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Dawn had not yet broken. Yuder slept soundly, his breathing steady, soft strands of hair brushing against his lashes. A faint flush lingered at the corners of his eyes, remnants of warmth from earlier. Kishiar gently brushed aside a lock of that hair and gazed quietly at the peaceful face for a while before silently getting up.
As soon as he closed the door behind him, a gust of cold wind greeted him head-on. The early morning breeze was sharp, but it didn’t bother him. He walked through it to an open clearing, grounded himself, and began his sword practice.
Once finished, he thought about cleaning up and sneaking back to bed to cuddle Yuder a little longer. But just then, a sudden gust of wind, heavy with swirling leaves, swept over and sent his hair flying in all directions.
Kishiar casually ran his fingers through his hair, shaking out the leaves that had landed on him. Something about the wind felt odd. Was the weather about to change? But the air pressure wasn’t low, there were no signs of incoming rain.
He turned to head back, but the strong wind hadn’t let up. It rustled through the trees, shaking loose a rain of falling leaves. They rained down in waves, tapping against his head, brushing his face, hitting his shoulders. Harmless as they were, the sheer number made it feel like an attack. Battling the leaf storm all the way back to the main door, he stepped inside. Only for the wind to vanish the moment he crossed the threshold.
After brushing himself off, he quietly returned to bed, slipped under the covers, and closed his eyes with an arm around Yuder, who was still sound asleep.
Sensing a shift in the air beside him, Kishiar opened his eyes to see Yuder’s lashes flutter, revealing dark irises still hazy with sleep. The sight was too beautiful to resist, he leaned in and kissed him softly. Yuder’s lashes brushed his lips like a whisper, and the gentle warmth made his smile bloom.
“Good morning. Sleep well?”
Yuder didn’t move, just looked at him. “You look happy.”
“How could I not be,” Kishiar replied with a grin, “waking up to see such a beautiful fairy lying next to me?”
Yuder’s expression turned a touch complex, clearly having thoughts about the exaggeration, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he let it go, letting Kishiar say whatever he liked, so long as it made him happy.
Sitting up, he summoned the wind to draw back the curtains. Sunlight poured in, the sky a flawless blue. When he opened the window, a breeze rushed eagerly in, brushing gently across his body. The weather was perfect.
Yuder turned in that soft wind to glance at Kishiar, who was looking at him with eyes deep and unreadable. He seemed to be thinking about something, but clearly, it wasn’t anything serious.
***
Kishiar and Yuder walked side by side through the woods.
It was nearing noon when Kishiar suggested they eat something—perhaps forage some wild fruits and catch a few fish. Yuder felt he didn’t really need to eat, but since Kishiar had suggested it, he didn’t object. Having grown up in the mountains, Yuder was skilled at both foraging and fishing, but Kishiar muttered something about “participation” and insisted they divide the tasks. It was efficient and it wasn’t the first time. So, Yuder went to gather wild fruits.
Kishiar headed toward a nearby stream. The water flowed gently, dappled with light, fish swimming lazily beneath the surface. He couldn’t help but smile, remembering the time he caught fish during Yuder’s heat cycle.
A tiny splash hit his foot, dampening a patch of his pants.
He rolled up his pants and took off his shoes, stepping into the water. With his skills, he caught fish easily, but the water that had seemed gentle at first kept slapping against his legs.
Carrying a string of fish, he stepped back onto shore just as another splash of water leapt up and soaked the pants he had carefully rolled up.
It didn’t really matter. Unbothered, Kishiar put on his shoes, let down his pants, and walked back, then he felt something fall from above. He dodged on instinct and glanced at the ground. A wild fruit had dropped right where he’d been standing. He looked up—there were still some fruits on the tree, but none as large as this one.
He picked it up and continued walking.
Yuder was already waiting, arms full of fruits that seemed to glow with a kind of natural beauty. They looked nothing like the ones Kishiar had seen on his walk, and one bite proved they tasted just as perfectly sweet and tart.
Maybe it was just Yuder’s experience with picking fruits.
As Yuder dried Kishiar’s pants with perfectly controlled flames, Kishiar beamed and accepted a grilled fish from him. They enjoyed a simple but warm lunch in the woods.
***
They resumed walking.
As the vegetation grew denser, they switched to walking single file. Yuder walked ahead, and the branches seemed to part for him on their own. The wind gently swept aside hanging twigs in his path, clearing the way.
Kishiar followed behind, only for a branch to snap back and almost whip him in the face.
He calmly pushed it aside and kept walking.
A second branch lashed toward his nose and trembled defiantly. He blocked it again without comment.
The third one swished overhead, showering him with leaves.
Yuder turned to look back, surprised to find Kishiar looking slightly disheveled. He walked back and gently brushed the leaves from his shoulders. Kishiar tilted his head slightly and lowered himself, allowing Yuder to do so more easily.
Another breeze passed, rustling the trees around them—but this time, no leaves fell on either of them.
***
Yuder’s power lay in his command over nature, and nature responded with affection and gentleness.
Kishiar knew this well.
But it felt like nature had a bit of a grudge against him.
Smiling, Kishiar plucked a small innocent flower from the ground and began pulling petals. To be fair, he even closed his eyes and chose the flower at random.
“He loves me most. Not. He loves me most. Not. He loves me most…”
The final petal trembled violently in the breeze.
Still smiling, Kishiar stared hard at the petal.
It quivered in the face of invisible pressure, but clearly it was a bold soul—it fluttered stubbornly, refusing to bend to intimidation.
“Commander? What are you doing?” Yuder approached.
Just as Kishiar opened his mouth to reply, the flower—now stripped down to one last petal—suddenly sprouted another petal out of nowhere. Biologically improbable, utterly surreal.
Kishiar froze, glanced at the flower in his hand, then at Yuder, who seemed utterly puzzled. Looking back at the flower—now quiet and obedient with its two petals—he burst into loud laughter.
It took him a while to calm down. Wiping a tear from his eye, he told the bewildered Yuder, “Nothing. It just made me realize... my dear assistant is so very loved.”
He knelt down and gently returned the flower—with its two remaining petals—to the soft earth. Then he walked off with Yuder, who, though clearly baffled, decided not to press further.
(Flower: Who will speak for me…)
2025.4.18