Leaving didn’t take hours—it took seconds.
As soon as Kaya stepped out of her room with her bag slung across her shoulder, Veer was already there, waiting. Without a word, he reached out and grabbed her wrist. His grip was firm, almost too firm, like he feared she might vanish if he let go.
The next thing she knew, they were outside, the cool mountain air biting against her skin. Veer glanced down at her legs, his tone unusually soft yet urgent.
"If you dangle too much, it’ll hurt. Sit on when I change."
Kaya tilted her head at him, suspicious at the sudden consideration, but she simply nodded. "Okay."
He blinked once. His eyes flared, molten amber, glowing brighter than she had ever seen. Then his body stretched, bones reshaping, feathers bursting outward in a rush of sound. In heartbeats, the man she knew was gone, replaced by the massive vulture that towered over her.
No matter how many tis she had seen it, the sight always made her chest tighten—half awe, half unease. His wings, wide and dark, shimred faintly in the morning light, each feather bristling with restrained power.
Kaya stepped closer, hesitating only a mont before climbing onto his back. There was nothing to hold onto, no reins, no straps. So, without thinking twice, she reached forward and grabbed a fistful of the thick feathers around his neck.
Veer twisted his head slightly, one sharp amber eye glancing at her. For a brief mont, she thought he might protest—but instead, he gave a single, wordless grunt of approval.
Then, with a beat of his colossal wings, the ground fell away beneath them. Air roared past Kaya’s ears as they soared off the mountainside. Her stomach lurched at the sudden drop, her grip tightening around his feathers until her knuckles ached.
Still, through the rush of wind, a thought needled at her. Sothing is wrong with him. His silence, his urgency, his eyes burning brighter than before.
Veer suddenly changed his path. Instead of soaring straight down from the mountain, he circled wide, wings slicing through the rushing air until he veered towards a secluded ridge. Kaya’s eyes widened when she spotted the lonely house tucked beneath the slope. Her heart skipped. She leaned forward and patted Veer’s shoulder firmly.
"Stop!" she called out.
But her voice was snatched away by the wind. Veer flew on, determined, until Kaya’s sharp command broke through.
"I said stop!"
This ti Veer stiffened mid-flight. His wings faltered slightly before he turned his head up at her. Kaya pointed directly at the house, her expression unwavering.
"I want to go there."
At her words, Veer’s body went rigid. His golden eyes flickered—shock, unease, a hint of fear. For a mont, he looked as though he might refuse. But Kaya’s glare was steady, challenging him. Finally, he descended, his wings folding as he landed hard upon the mountain ground.
As Kaya slid off his back, Veer’s form shifted seamlessly into his uniform. He faced her, jaw tight, and demanded, "You! How did you know about this place?"
Kaya didn’t flinch. Her voice was calm, almost casual, but it cut through him like a blade.
"Your brother brought here."
Veer froze. His breath caught. "Brother?" he echoed, almost to himself.
"Yes. Just a few days ago." Kaya nodded before stepping forward. She pushed open the creaking wooden door.
A cloud of dust swirled out instantly, catching in her throat. Cough, cough, cough. But this ti, Kaya was prepared. Her eyes, hidden beneath the thin translucent veil gifted by the rmaids, were safe from the sting. She pressed the cloth tighter over her face and stepped inside.
Veer’s eyes never left Kaya as she stepped into the dimly lit house. She moved with purpose, heading straight for the staircase, her steps silent but confident. Veer followed close behind, his posture rigid, yet his gaze held a flicker of curiosity.
"You seem to know this place well," he remarked cautiously.
Kaya glanced at him without breaking her stride. "Your brother and I explored it last ti." Her tone carried a quiet authority.
Veer’s brow furrowed. "We should just leave—"
She didn’t even look at him. Her eyes scanned the shadows of the corridor, every old wooden panel, every crack in the wall. "Start searching every room you know. I want anything written, anything unusual... anything that belonged to your mother."
Veer hesitated, an old instinct tugging at him, the one that always made him protective of this house. Yet sothing in Kaya’s calm, unyielding voice made him pause—and then, strangely, he nodded. Without a word, he began searching.
Kaya’s mind raced. This isn’t the Veer I know. Normally, he would have argued, scolded her, maybe even physically blocked her from touching anything belonging to his mother. His brother had warned her countless tis—Veer hated anyone near this house, hated anyone touching his mother’s things. Even when his father tried to open the door, Veer fought tooth and nail, sotis crying in sheer frustration until he fell sick.
And now... he was letting her take the lead.
Kaya was no fool. She didn’t think Veer had allowed her to search the house out of so soft affection. Even if Veer was reckless, impulsive, and every kind of idiot imaginable, he still maintained his rules—strict boundaries that applied to everyone, even her. No one could enter Veer’s room without permission, not even Kaya. No one could touch his clothes or personal belongings without his consent, and she knew those rules applied to her just as much as to any outsider.
So this... this allowance to search the house wasn’t a gift born of love or trust. There had to be another reason, one that Kaya would discover—and she intended to find out what it was.
Soon, she heard the faint shuffle of footsteps behind her. Kaya looked up, her eyes narrowing slightly, and saw Veer erging from the shadows with sothing in his hands—a small, unassuming wooden box. It was tiny, almost delicate, but the way he carried it made it feel like it held sothing far heavier, far more important than its size suggested.
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