Two mornings later, the Conservatory was quiet and hazy with early sunlight filtering through the glass ceiling. Tau stretched lazily near the foot of the bed, while Kaja sat attentively beside him, tail thumping every so often.

Hassian knelt beside the bed, gently running his fingers down Lyra’s calf until he reached her ankle. “Still feelin’ strong?” he asked, his voice low and warm.

Lyra stretched with a groan, brushing hair from her eyes. “Looks fine. Feels strong. If I don’t get out of this place soon, I’m going to lose my mind.”

He chuckled. “Then let’s get ready.”

That got her attention. “Where are we going?”

He gave her a look, unreadable at first—then a spark of challenge lit in his eyes. “You want to go to the Elderwood?” A pause. “Let’s go.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait—should I gather the others?”

Hassian shook his head. “Not this time. Just us.”

“Just us?” she echoed, surprised.

“I want to be with you the first time you go. Show you the safer spots.” His expression softened, but there was something more there too. “There’s something else I want to show you too.”

She blinked at him, curious, but didn’t press.

He rose and stretched. “Get dressed. And if that ankle starts hurting, you tell me.” He leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. “If I have to carry you home, baby, I’ll do it.”

Lyra laughed, already pulling clothes from her dresser. “Well now I kind of want to fake it just to see you do it.”

“Don’t tempt me!” he called over his shoulder as he walked toward the wardrobe to retrieve his hunting clothes.

By the time they were dressed and ready, Lyra stood by the door, boots laced and hair pulled back. She turned to him, smiling. “Ready.”

Hassian tilted his head. “Where’s your bow? You’re a hunter, right?”

She blinked. “I didn’t think I’d need it. I thought we weren’t hunting today—you hunt alone.”

He stepped in close, brushing his fingers over her hip where the bow usually sat. “You’ve got me doin’ all kinds of things I never do.” His lips quirked. “Might as well add one more.”

Lyra grinned and turned to fetch her weapon. As she slung it over her shoulder, something sparked in her chest—a quiet thrill.

This wasn’t just a walk.
This was the first time she’d hunt beside him.
And that meant more than he probably realized.

First Steps in the Elderwood

They crossed from Bahari into the Elderwood just after midday, the sun still high and bright behind them. But as soon as they stepped past the threshold of gnarled roots and twisted trees, the light changed. Lyra slowed, glancing up at the canopy overhead.

It was darker here—dusky, even though it shouldn’t be. The shadows were deep, and the air shimmered faintly with a violet hue that clung to the edges of everything. Strange trees towered around them, their bark spiraling in unnatural ways, their leaves tinged with lavender and indigo. The air felt thicker somehow. Heavier. And it carried a hum that Lyra could feel more than hear—like the woods themselves were watching.

She turned slowly in place. “Okay… I get it now. This place is creepy.”

Hassian nodded beside her, eyes scanning their surroundings. “Up here in this section, you can find all three breeds of Munjin. Good target practice if you want to sharpen your aim. You won’t find any sernuk or chappa in the Elderwood—this land doesn’t welcome them.”

He gestured for her to follow. “Now come on. Let’s go see your ogopuu.”

They moved deeper, the ground soft beneath their boots, thick with moss and strange patches of iridescent slime. After a short walk, the woods opened slightly to reveal a narrow creek, water burbling through smooth stones. Just beyond, several ogopuu lounged near the banks, their long reptilian bodies stretched out in the dappled light.

Hassian held up a hand, stopping her before they got too close.

“Ogopuu stay near water,” he murmured. “They’ll come in from over there.” He pointed to the left, where the trees thinned along a ridge. “You’ve got three types. Blue are the easiest, but don’t think easiest means easy. Still tougher than anything you’ve hunted in Bahari other than magical animals. Figure four solid hits for a blue.”

Lyra narrowed her eyes, watching the creatures move lazily by the stream.

“The emeralds’ll take five,” Hassian continued. “I don’t see any wavebacks right now. They’re the rarest—they’re white, black, and blue—but they need six or seven hits to go down.”

He leaned slightly closer, voice dropping with warning. “Now, if you see one with a purple tinge—stay back. Those are infected. Essence-corrupted. You could empty your whole quiver into one and it wouldn’t matter.”

Lyra blinked, absorbing every word.

“They spook easy. Startle ‘em or shoot, and they’ll run—and yeah, a lot of the time they run on their hind legs. If they get to the water they’ll jump in and you won’t see them again.”

Lyra wrinkled her nose. “They… run upright? That’s unsettling.”

“That’s not the worst of it.” Hassian nudged a patch of thick green goo with his boot. “See this? That’s ogopuu slime. They vomit it when they’re startled. Projectile. If it hits you, it’ll slow you down, make you an easy target. It dries up fast, but it’s a mess. You’ll want a shower after today.”

Lyra gave him a look of horror. “They vomit slime?”

“Oh, yeah.” Hassian deadpanned. “You didn’t think this place was just mysterious trees and pretty lighting, did you?”

She groaned and shook her head. “Why am I so excited about this?”

He gave her a sidelong smile. “Because you’re a lunatic. But you’re my lunatic.”

Lyra grinned and reached instinctively for her bow, practically bouncing in place.

But Hassian caught her arm gently. “Hold on, quick draw. Let’s finish the tour before you start filling things with arrows.”

Reluctantly, she lowered her hand.

He led her through a passageway framed by glowing mushrooms, the path curving toward a wide clearing. Nestled within a carved out cave was an outpost. Several people were darting about.
“This is Elderwood Central Stables,” Hassian explained. “It’s a safe spot. Always people around. If you’re out here and need to regroup, this is where you come. Especially if it’s closer than the entrance.”

He walked her over to a large weatherworn map posted on a board. “Eventually, maybe your group can hunt in Mauvis Way or down toward De Mer Dock. Ogopuu are plentiful in those areas.”
He tapped a dark green section to the far side. “But this? The Deep Woods? You stay away. Far away. I don’t want to hear you even thought about going near it.”
He glanced sideways at her. “Honestly, I don’t want you in any of these,” he added, pointing to three adjacent sections. “But I know better than to think I can stop you.”

Lyra raised her hands in mock surrender, but her voice was soft. “I hear you. I’ll be careful.”

“We’re gonna leave the other way,” Hassian said, turning from the map. “Stick close. Stay alert.”

Lyra nodded. “I’m with you.”

As they stepped away from the clearing, Hassian glanced at her again—his expression unreadable, but serious. Protective. She reached out and slipped her fingers into his.
He let her.

And together, they walked deeper into the Elderwood.

The Shrine

They walked in companionable silence, leaves crunching softly beneath their boots, the strange glow of the Elderwood ever-present. Lyra took in everything—the strange trees, the violet light, the thick, heady air that seemed to press against her lungs with every breath.

But after a while, her brow furrowed. The trail looked different. Older. Wilder.
And then she knew.
They were heading toward the Deep Woods.Exactly where Hassian had told her never to go.

She opened her mouth to ask, but just then he stopped. Kneeling, he reached toward a patch of moss near the path and gently picked a flower—bright pink petals curling delicately around a bright silver center. It glowed faintly in the dim light.

“Seems odd,” Hassian murmured, still crouched, “that something so beautiful is thriving in such a dismal place.”

Lyra stepped closer. “What is it?”

“This is an Elderwood lotus.”

She smiled softly. “For me?”

He looked up, and there was something almost sad in his eyes. “I’m sorry, baby… not this time. I’ll try to find you another one.”

She didn’t press. His tone told her what this flower meant, even if he hadn’t said it yet.

He stood, the lotus carefully tucked into his bag, and guided her a little further off the trail. The trees grew even thicker here. Older. At the base of one massive, gnarled tree he finally stopped.

Hassian took a deep breath and stepped beneath the low-hanging branches.

Lyra followed, quiet now. The air felt heavier here. Sacred, in a way that made her skin prickle.
She saw it then—remnants of melted candles, a few worn cloths, and an old charm carved from wood. A shrine. Makeshift and humble, but clearly tended to over time.

They stood for a moment in silence, until Hassian spoke.
“This is where it happened,” he said quietly. “Where my momma was killed by the beast. Her camp was set up here…”
His voice trailed off. He didn’t look at her.

Lyra stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, resting her cheek against his back.

“I used to come here every week,” he said after a pause. “Now it’s more like once a month. Still can’t stay away.”
He knelt before the shrine, and Lyra knelt beside him without hesitation. He gently cleared away some of the older offerings, brushing aside leaves and dirt with care.
Then from his bag, he pulled two new candles and the Elderwood lotus. He lit the wicks one by one, shielding the flames with his hand. Then he sat back on his heels, closed his eyes, and was still.

Lyra stayed close. One arm looped around his back, the other resting lightly on his forearm. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to.

The only sounds were the soft whisper of the wind through ancient branches and the low hum of the forest’s unseen heartbeat.

They sat quietly for a time, Lyra pressed against him, her hand tracing slow circles on his arm.

When his eyes opened, they were haunted—shadows of memory pooling in the depths. He swallowed hard, jaw tight, and for a moment, it looked like the past might pull him under.

Then he let a shudder pass through him, leaning into her hand, letting the ache of loss rest against the steady, unwavering beat of her presence.

He turned to her, voice rough, almost breaking. “She would’ve adored you,” he said. “Almost as much as I do.”

Tears filled Lyra’s eyes instantly. “I would’ve loved her. How could I not? She helped make you the man you are.”

“I lost my momma here, to that beast. I can’t lose you, baby. I won’t come back from that.” his voice low and steady.

Her fingers cupped his jaw, thumbs brushing the edges of his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered.

He let her words settle around him like a shield. He swallowed, stood slowly, and offered her his hand. “Careful on your ankle.”

She smiled through her tears, letting him pull her up. He kept hold of her hand and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, then her forehead.

“Thank you,” he said. “For coming here. For being here. I’ll bring you again, anytime… if you ever want to come with me.”

She nodded, brushing her fingers gently along his jaw. “Always.”

He looked at her for a long time after that, his thumb trailing slowly along her cheek. The forest seemed to fade around them. It was just him, just her, just this moment.

“I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you,” he said. “Sometimes I’m afraid I’m not doing it right. Sometimes… I’m just afraid. I don’t want to hold you back. I don’t want to control you. All I want is you to just stay safe.”

Lyra’s voice shook. “I love you more than I have words for….sometimes I’m afraid too. And yes, hunter… you’re doing it perfectly.”

They stood forehead to forehead, tears shared but no longer falling, hearts wide open and understood.

After a long breath, Hassian let out a soft laugh. “Heavy.”

“Very,” Lyra giggled, wiping under her eyes.

He kissed her one more time. “Come on,” he said, slinging his bow back into place. “I hope those ogopuu are prepared for what’s about to happen.”

And hand in hand, they stepped out of the shadow of the ancient tree, back into the strange light of the Elderwood, ready to face the world—and the hunt—together.

The Ogopuu Hunt

The woods opened into a spongy clearing streaked with glowing green muck and buzzing with an odd hum that didn’t seem to come from any one place. The creek Hassian had mentioned earlier trickled nearby, its banks lined with squishy footprints and claw marks.

Lyra eyed a patch of the luminous slime suspiciously. “So… this is how I die?”

Hassian gave her a sidelong glance. “Not unless you step in that. Or get sprayed. Or both.”

“How encouraging.”

“Place your bets now,” he added with a dry smile. “Who gets slimed first?”

Lyra grinned. “Easy. You. You’re the one they’ll see as a threat.”

“You mean because of my deadly accuracy?”

“No,” she said, knocking an arrow. “Because you look perpetually annoyed. They’ll take it personally.”

He chuckled softly. “Fair.”

Ahead, a trio of ogopuu—two blue, one a glinting emerald—lounged near the water. One was half-submerged, snoring. Another scratched its neck with a hind foot like a lazy dog. Lyra squinted. “I can’t believe these things are dangerous. They look like they’d trip over their own tails.”

“You haven’t seen them run yet.”

As if on cue, one of the blues startled at a birdcall and shot upright on two legs. It took off with a ridiculous high-kneed gallop, arms flailing.

Lyra snorted a laugh, nearly dropping her arrow. “Are you even kidding me right now?”

Hassian, trying not to smile too broadly, muttered, “Every time and it still gets me.”

They separated slightly—Hassian angling toward the far flank while Lyra crouched closer to the water’s edge. She had a line of sight on the emerald ogopuu now, grazing with its back turned.
Four quick breaths.
She let the arrow fly.
The first hit landed square in the shoulder. The ogopuu shrieked, startled, and whipped around—but Lyra was already pulling her second shot. She moved quickly, eyes sharp, stance low. The second arrow struck just beneath the ribs. The creature staggered. Third. Fourth. Fifth. And finally—on the sixth—down it went with a splash and a wheeze.

Hassian, halfway through dealing with one of the blues, caught it out of the corner of his eye. His arrow paused at full draw. Damn. She’d taken it solo. Clean.

He fired anyway, finishing off his own target, then whistled. “Show-off.”

Lyra smirked, walking past him. “Didn’t see you volunteer for the emerald.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t want to steal your moment.”

Before she could reply, a warning snort came from the left.
“Incoming!” Hassian called, grabbing her by the arm and yanking her behind a tree as a jet of viscous green goop splattered the ferns where they’d just stood.
“Disgusting!” Lyra laughed. “It projectile vomited at us! Why is that a real sentence I just said?”

“You wanted ogopuu,” Hassian said, brushing a streak of slime off his sleeve. “This is part of the charm.”

They took down the last one together, dodging between bursts of slime and slippery footing. Lyra slipped once, caught herself, then yelled, “Not a word!” before he could make a comment.

“I didn’t say anything,” Hassian said with a smirk. “But I was thinking it really hard.”

By the time the last ogopuu collapsed in a dramatic heap, Lyra was winded and grinning. “That was insane.”

“You were good,” Hassian said, his voice lower now. “Really good.”

She leaned her bow against a tree and wiped her hands on her pants. “You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

“I’m not,” he said, stepping closer. “Just… impressed. Quietly.”

She bumped her shoulder into him. “Thanks, hunter.”

“Don’t make me regret this next trip.”

“You mean when we bring the whole crew?” she asked innocently.

He groaned. “I’m making extra arrows the moment we get home.”

“Good,” Lyra said, looping her arm through his. “You’ll need something to keep your nerves busy while we’re off making more bad decisions.”

He sighed. “Why do I get the feeling you’re going to be the cause of most of them?”

She winked at him. “Because you’re smart.”

And together, they disappeared toward the exit, two hunters moving as one.
The forest watched them go — silent, patient, waiting