“Sorry.” He shook his head, flicking his fur off to the side in an almost mesmerizingly adorable manner. If he’d just been like… four times smaller, he’d have made for the perfect housecat. “I didn’t mean to bring up grim topics— just wanted to say I get the feeling. It’s a very much different experience out there in the wilds than it is in the city. Not too bad either way— not like I’m going to be accepted into a sect, out in middle-of-nowhereville, mountainside province or whatever.”

  Lily snickered. “True, that! True… once we get into the Bloody Saffron Sect, this’ll all be behind us anyways.”

  “They’ll probably put us in a cave on a mountain and tell us to cultivate the profound scripture of sitting still and getting bored.”

  She gasped, holding a hand to her chest and pretending to be offended. “You dare? I, the soon-to-be Young Master of the Bloody Saffron Second won’t tolerate such disrespect from a ruffian of your ilk. Kowtow one hundred times, and this esteemed one might spare you the shame of losing a duel to me!”

  “You’re almost two cultivation ranks my junior.”

  Lily nodded, eyes glinting with amusement. “That’s half the joke.” The both of them stared at each other for a long while before— in unison— bursting out into laughter.

  “You’d make a good Young Master, I think. At least, once they get over how crass you can be.”

  “Yeah, well, what about you? The first feline Young Master of the Bloody Saffron Sect? How does that sound?”

  “I don’t think that’s how that works…” he shook his head. “Besides, I’m still not sure if I’m even going to get into the university, much less the sect.”

  “Your grades are perfect—”

  “Unless I can’t beat Xinshi.” That put a damper on their conversation for a good few, awkward seconds. Avyr shrugged, looking for all the world nonchalant about the possibility of failing after everything they did… how he managed that, she had no idea. It had to absolutely burn at him. “It’s a possibility. I still don’t have any techniques, and even if I do manage to cultivate up to Opening, I’ll just be a little stronger and faster than him.”

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  “You’re already a lot stronger and faster than him—”

  “I was before.” She wanted to say something— that the difference was even more pronounced, now, that even most of a major stage was still an almost insurmountable barrier for most cultivators… but she couldn’t quite bring herself to do so. She could tell when Avyr didn’t really want that sort of reassurance. “He still has that sword, and I…”

  “Will get the pill.” Lily said it with enough conviction that for a moment even she believed it was utterly inevitable— “I’ll do it. By the time you have to fight Young Master Xinshi, when it really matters… you’ll have advanced to the Opening.”

  “How? Not that I’m doubting you, but…” he was totally doubting her, was kinda fair. She was kind of doubting herself, too…

  “I still have those spirit stones, no? I’m sure I can do something with them. And I just need to actually get over to Old Saffron to actually get an audience with one of the alchemists… um. I may or may not have spent all my money on the trip to the Dragonspine range.”

  Avyr huffed a soft laugh. “I figured. I’ll chip in as much as I’m able… it is my pill after all.” He sighed. “I’m still recovering from that trip, myself. My bag got ruined.” A look of genuine regret crossed his face. “I had that thing for years. My parents gave it to me, and… well, it wasn’t salvageable after the battle.”

  “Oh.” She’d noticed that he hadn’t taken the bags back with him, but she hadn’t thought they were that important to him. “I’m sorry. You should focus on replacing them.”

  “It’s no great matter.” He flicked his tail dismissively, trying and failing to look like he wasn’t upset by it. “It’s not like whatever replacement I’m going to get will hold as much sentimental value— it’s just some bags. Honestly, it had been a bit uncomfortably tight for the past few years. I probably should have tried to get a replacement sooner.” Right, and there was no reason he hadn’t, totally…

  She just rested her hand on his back, the fur silky-soft beneath her fingers, quietly… solemnly, in solidarity leaning into the burning warmth that was him. Just for a moment.

  Together. For what they’d lost… and for what they’d gained. “I will get the pill. I will.” It was a promise. A solemn vow, if not to Avyr, then to herself.

  She would.

  She would.

  She had to.

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