What Surtr had been waiting for wasn't actually Steven's drink—well, not exactly.
What she was really hoping for were the treats he always seed to pull out of nowhere.
Na one in particular? Ice cream.
So, the very mont Steven suggested "a little sothing," the aloof, icy girl's expression instantly blood into a rare smile. Unfortunately, that smile froze on her face the second she realized what he had actually brought out was alcohol.
"A little ice cream won't hurt, you know. Besides—have you ever tried strong liquor with ice cream? The taste's… surprisingly unforgettable."
Surtr didn't bother with modesty. She took the bottle straight from Steven's hand, lifted it with elegance, and sipped lightly before speaking in a tone that was less of a hint and more of an outright declaration.
Almost imdiately, her athyst eyes shimred with surprise. She lowered her gaze, carefully examining the bottle in her hand.
She wasn't exactly good with alcohol, but sowhere in the fragnts of her mories lingered knowledge—that this was no ordinary drink.
Even nobles in a prosperous city might not be able to afford sothing like this.
Which ant… this boy could casually pull out not only gourt food but also such high-grade liquor?
She honestly couldn't figure out just what kind of person he was.
If an ordinary traveler could entertain friends with luxuries like these, then Surtr couldn't help but feel that her own "traveler" title was rather laughable.
After all, if she were half as extravagant, she wouldn't have had to invent those shabby, hand-made popsicles in the first place.
"I've never tried that combo before… but if you really like it, there's no need to make such a fuss."
Steven smiled faintly.
He had caught her aning, of course—she wasn't even trying to hide it. But he didn't mind. If she liked it, why not indulge her? After all, being straightforward wasn't a bad trait. In fact, he preferred it to needless beating around the bush.
Reaching into his inventory, he drew out an ice cream without hesitation and handed it to the girl at his side.
"If you really like it, just eat the ice cream. That chilling bite doesn't go well with strong liquor. Once alcohol's been chilled, its bite disappears, and it's easy to lose track of how much you're drinking. By the ti the kick hits, it's already too late."
He watched Surtr's delighted expression as she accepted the ice cream, and only then did he offer a kindly warning.
After all, once the burn of liquor was muted by cold, it was dangerously easy to keep drinking. And when the delayed punch finally ca, the result could be disastrous.
Steven himself wouldn't have cared—but Surtr was still a girl. If she ended up blackout drunk out here in the wilderness, it'd put him in a very awkward position.
But Surtr simply waved him off with a carefree smile.
"No, no, no—you don't get it. I'm not joking. That floating, hazy feeling from the alcohol, mixed with the icy sting of ice cream cooling my head—it's like the two cancel each other out. Together, they let completely break free… from those tangled, painful mories."
Scooping up a spoonful of ice cream, she placed it delicately into her mouth. Her refined, model-like face instantly lted into a look of sheer bliss.
"To be able to forget my past, even for a short while… that's sothing truly rare."
Surtr's earnest expression, however, only stirred Steven's curiosity.
She often spoke about wanting to escape those tangled, chaotic mories of hers. Could it be… that she had so past too painful to look back on?
"Well, I can't really say I understand it just from the way you put it. But since we've got ti… how about the two of us—fellow travelers, rare as we are—share a bit of our journeys? I've got to admit, I'm curious about your past."
With a casual motion, Steven pulled out another bottle of strong liquor, taking a small sip before turning back to the fire.
As the flas flickered warmly, he glanced toward Surtr and asked.
Fellow travelers who enjoyed the sa little indulgences weren't common. That alone made him want to hear her stories.
This world was full of tales that fascinated him, and he wasn't about to miss the chance to hear one from her own lips.
"Well then… if you really want to know, I suppose I've got plenty to tell. So mories feel like I lived them myself, while others… it's as if I were only watching from afar. Even I can't tell whether they were real experiences or just dreams. Isn't that exactly why they trouble so much?"
Enjoying her ice cream, Surtr shot him a sideways glance.
She could understand his curiosity, of course. And she didn't really mind sharing sothing of her past—after all, wasn't it fair paynt for being treated to such a delicious dessert? That much was only reasonable.
The problem was, her mories were a ss. Even if she wanted to share, she didn't know where to begin.
"It's fine. Just pick sothing interesting. Think of it as casual chatter. Say whatever makes you happy to talk about. As for what it is…"
Steven paused mid-drink, then smiled faintly.
"…who really cares?"
Leaning in, he lightly clinked his bottle against hers, finishing the thought in a low, carefree tone.
"To our journey into the unknown."
He raised his brows at her, then tipped the bottle back, draining it in one go.
Surtr blinked, bottle in hand, montarily stunned by his words. But then, slowly, a smile blossod on her face—warm, almost relieved.
"You're right. To our journey into the unknown."
She tilted back her own bottle, taking a deep drink. Even with the icy sweetness of her dessert tempering the liquor's burn, she still found herself sticking out her tongue to ease the sting. Yet when her gaze returned to Steven, it had softened.
From the mont he'd said those words, she finally understood what it ant… to et a kindred spirit.
They had only just t. They shared almost nothing in common, no deep bonds or long history. But for that one simple phrase, Surtr knew—this was a friend she would hold on to.
"Now then, where should I even start? My head feels cramd with jumbled fragnts, but when it cos to actually picking one to tell, I don't know where to begin."
She tapped her small hand against her temple, then relaxed when she saw Steven's utterly laid-back expression—like he was listening to music rather than waiting for her story.
Why was she trying so hard to dig up sothing heavy, anyway?
The point wasn't about the story's weight.
It was simply about sharing.
"Don't be fooled just because I look young," Surtr muttered, tapping her head again. "The experiences in here… they feel way too much for soone my age. Honestly, I can't even rember—am I about to turn eighteen, or eighteen hundred?"
She gave Steven a quick look, as if to make sure he understood—she wasn't making things up because she had nothing to say. On the contrary, she had too much to share, and that was the real problem: she didn't know where to begin.
"Alright, alright, I hear you. Just go on, I'll listen. Doesn't matter whether it's true or not—we're just here for the stories."
Steven waved his hand dismissively, as if to say she was overthinking.
With his other hand, he casually pulled a sunflower head from his inventory and started cracking the seeds open as he drank, wearing the exact sa expression as a man kicking back to drink and brag with an old friend.
"Then let tell you—my life's nothing short of legendary."
Her voice carried a strange mix of pride and sorrow as she began to recount:
"I once fought against those thousand-legged, thousand-eyed abominations on the frozen tundras of the far north—the sa kind of creature you encountered earlier. I've swum deep beneath the seas, side by side with monsters of impossible shapes."
"I've seen the towering spires of Kazimierz, and wandered the prival jungles of Sargon."
"I've left footprints on the walls of Yan's borderlands, and I've prayed at the shrines of Higashi."
"I've witnessed armies clashing in seas of steel and blood, and yet also played in city amusent parks with children."
"In the end… I can't even tell anymore—which mories are really mine, and which are only illusions, or borrowed fragnts of soone else's life."
Surtr's lips curved into a smile tinged with lancholy.
At first she had only been spinning her tales as casually as Steven suggested, recounting her "journeys" like they were nothing more than traveler's chatter. But as she went on, her words shifted—her "stories" beca confessions of grief.
Deep down, she knew perfectly well. With her terrible sense of direction, there was no way she could have truly seen so many places at such a young age. So of those mories had to be false. Yet no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't separate truth from lies.
Sotis she even wondered… was she really herself? Was she truly that red-haired Sarkaz girl who just liked to eat ice cream?
"…But don't you think it's kind of cool?"
The silence that followed her words stretched until Steven finally spoke, his voice breaking the weight that had settled over them.
"Hm?"
"I an, to have mories like that. To carry those legends inside you, even if you can't tell whether they're yours or not. Doesn't it feel… cool? Like you've lived through sothing extraordinary?"
He added the thought casually, but his eyes were serious.
From his perspective, what Surtr described was exactly the kind of life he sought—what he hoped to experience himself soday.
It wasn't sothing to be troubled by. Quite the opposite. To live through such legendary things—even just in mory—wasn't that sothing worth celebrating?
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Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
sdrive.google/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
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