Uncovered

The heavy heat pressing against Eric’s face woke him. Dizzy, he blinked hard, his eyes gritty with sand. Even after a full night’s sleep, the weight in his chest hadn’t lifted.

Why do I feel like I’ve barely slept? These days are too damn long, he thought.

Pushing himself out of bed, he padded to the other side of the divider. Welyvyne was sprawled across her blankets, one arm dangling limply over the side. He chuckled softly and decided to let her rest a little longer. Quietly, he slipped the books into his storage space.

Then he sat at his desk, staring at the blank surface with a flutter in his chest. Artificing. Man, I’ve been looking forward to this. These are the first steps—the tools I need to bring my family here.

He glanced back at Welyvyne and smirked. Guess I’ll wake her up and get ready.

Eric walked over and said, “Rise and shine. We’ve got a big day ahead of us.”

Welyvyne groaned. “Just a quarter bell more.”

He chuckled. “Do you really want Lyren and Kaelen to beat us there? Who knows what kind of trouble they’ll start.”

“No,” Welyvyne muttered as she tumbled out of bed with an oof. “Ouch. No, I do not.”

They went through their usual morning dance in the cramped bathroom, brushing past one another and jockeying for space.

“You know,” Welyvyne said, elbowing him aside, “you could’ve gotten ready first and then woken me up.”

Eric grinned. “Where I come from, doing things that make sense usually gets you into trouble.”

She shot him an incredulous look. “Really?”

He shrugged. “Well… no. But it does seem to turn out that way.”

Afterward, Welyvyne began rummaging around the room, her movements growing increasingly frantic.

Eric watched from the desk. “What are you looking for?”

She brushed her hair back with one hand. “My book. I know I put my Artificing book right here.”

Eric winced. “I put them in my inventory. Probably should’ve told you that.”

Her eyes narrowed, but a sideways grin tugged at her mouth. “Yeah, probably should have. But… thanks for thinking of it.”

Eric smiled. “Of course. Let’s go eat.”

As she reached for her cloak, Eric raised a brow. “Do you really need that? The mystery’s gone. The mysterious elf is already out of the bag.”

She blinked, confused. “…What?”

Eric snorted. “It’s a thing in books from my world. Besides, you add bright color to an otherwise gray environment.”

Welyvyne froze mid-motion. The cloak slipped from her hands and pooled at her feet. She blinked once, twice—then looked away too quickly.

“…Are you messing with me?” Her voice came out sharper than he expected.

Eric tilted his head, puzzled. To him, he’d only pointed out a fact. “Why would I do that? And everyone already knows who you are. No sense in hiding.” He turned and stepped into the hall. “You coming?”

She lingered a moment, searching his face for any trace of a joke—and seemed to find none. “Um… yeah. Let’s go eat.”

She cast one last look at the cloak before slipping out the door. As they walked side by side, Eric caught her glancing at him, her expression speculative, as though puzzling over something he hadn’t said out loud.

When they arrived at the dining hall and pushed through the double doors, a few students looked up at them. Just as quickly, they turned back to their conversations, as if Eric and Welyvyne were no different than anyone else—nothing special at all.

“Huh,” Eric muttered. “Guess they get over things fast.”

Welyvyne scanned the room, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “I think maybe something other than us has their attention.”

They grabbed trays and joined the line. Most of the food looked like pastries—something resembling cinnamon twists, though the sweet smell carried no hint of cinnamon. There was the usual oatmeal, and that odd dish of smashed red potatoes.

They carried their trays to what had quietly become their usual table. By now, it seemed the other students had decided the spot belonged to them, since no one ever tried to sit there.

Eric chuckled. “I guess that’s the advantage of being infamous—VIP seating.”

They had only just started eating when Lyren appeared, plopping down on the bench with her tray. She nodded at them but said nothing as she began to eat.

Eric’s brows furrowed. He opened his mouth to speak, but Welyvyne beat him to it. “Has something happened? The mood is starting to make me nervous.”

Lyren looked up, weary-eyed. “You didn’t hear? I was up last night helping the healers at the wall.”

“No… what happened?” Welyvyne asked.

Lyren stifled a yawn. “There was a rift break near the west wall. Everyone able to help did.”

Eric leaned forward. “What’s a rift break? Why are they bad?”

Lyren yawned again. “I’ll let Kaelen or Welyvyne explain. I can barely string words together right now.”

Eric glanced at Welyvyne expectantly.

She sighed. “So, you don’t have rift breaks where you’re from, then. Okay… short answer: a rift is a natural thing on our planet. It’s when magic twists an area and a tear opens, usually spilling monsters out. Not every time, but often enough.”

Eric sat there with a million questions swirling in his mind, then finally settled on one. “Do they not open inside the city, if they’re natural?”

Welyvyne chuckled. “No, they don’t. No one knows why, but we assume it’s divine will.”

Eric raised an eyebrow. “Where I come from, gods usually let things happen. Not that we even have proof we’ve got a god—or gods—for that matter.”

Now it was Welyvyne’s turn to lift a brow. “Well, here the gods are very real. They make appearances, especially when they’re needed. But in general…” She gave a small shrug. “…they do tend to let things play out, so to speak.”

Eric leaned forward. “Do you honestly think the gods spend their time preventing rifts from opening inside cities? I’d imagine they’d have more important things to do, especially if you’re capable of handling the issues yourselves.”

Welyvyne’s reply was sharp. “Rifts are dangerous. If one opened within the city, a lot of people would die. I’d think our gods wouldn’t want that.”

Eric lifted a hand placatingly, smiling. “I’m not saying your gods are bad or cruel. I’m just saying, if they had time to do that, wouldn’t they also prevent loss of life in other ways? Tell me—do people get saved from death beyond the walls, or even in the city for that matter?”

Her brows furrowed. “No. People die to monsters all the time outside the city. But we assume the cities are seen as… a kind of safe zone.”

Eric chuckled softly. “Maybe. I don’t know enough about the way this world works. But logic tells me there’s more at play here. I suppose we’ll never know.”

The scrape of the dining hall doors pulled Eric’s attention. Kaelen stepped through, his arm bound tightly in a sling.

Eric was on his feet before he even realized it. He hurried to the line, grabbed a tray, and intercepted Kaelen halfway across the room.

“Sit,” Eric said firmly, guiding him toward their table. “I’ll handle this.”

Kaelen gave a tired smile but didn’t argue, lowering himself onto the bench with visible relief. He shifted his bound arm carefully as Eric slid the tray in front of him, settling it within easy reach before taking his own seat again.

Lyren, halfway through her meal, still hadn’t looked up long enough to notice anything unusual. Her shoulders sagged with exhaustion, dark circles etched under her eyes.

Kaelen’s gaze flicked across the table. His eyes lingered on Welyvyne. “No cloak today?” he asked, one brow raised.

Welyvyne froze with her spoon halfway to her mouth. “I—uh…” She darted a glance at Eric, who calmly sipped his drink.

Lyren’s head snapped toward him, her weary eyes sharpening. “What did you say to her?”

Eric blinked, caught off guard. “Nothing. Why do you assume I said something bad?”

“Because,” Lyren said flatly, narrowing her eyes, “you always say something bad.”

Eric stared at her for a long beat, then smirked. “That’s a pretty bad thing to say.”

Kaelen chuckled under his breath. Welyvyne pressed her lips together, trying—and failing—to hide a smile.

Lyren exhaled slowly, then softened. She turned to Welyvyne instead. “Welyvyne,” her voice gentled despite the rasp of fatigue, “what did he say to you to invoke this reaction?”

Welyvyne hesitated, eyes flicking once more to Eric. “Nothing. He just—”

Eric cut in without hesitation. “I told her she doesn’t need the cloak. People already know who she is.”

Welyvyne stiffened. Her cheeks flushed as though the air itself had betrayed her. She ducked her head and busied herself with her food, avoiding all of their eyes.

Lyren narrowed her gaze. “Oh, nope. That’s not all of it. Spill it.”

Welyvyne shook her head quickly. “It’s nothing.”

Eric, frowning as he thought back, lifted a hand. “What? That’s it. Well…” He snapped his fingers as it came to him. “Oh. I also told her that she adds bright color in a gray environment.”

The table went quiet.

Welyvyne’s spoon clattered softly back into her bowl. Her face turned a deeper shade of red as she tried very hard to pretend her food was the most interesting thing in the world.

Kaelen raised both brows, biting back a grin. Lyren just stared at Eric, utterly unamused.

Eric glanced between them all, baffled. “What? It’s true.”

Lyren’s laugh came sharp and sudden, but it softened as she turned her gaze to Welyvyne. “Nope, that… that was way more than just a compliment. That was flirting of the highest order.”

Welyvyne froze, her face burning as if the words themselves had struck her. She ducked her head, spoon forgotten.

Eric scoffed. “No. I just wanted her to feel good about not wearing her cloak.”

Kaelen let out a low chuckle, clearly amused. Welyvyne risked a glance at Eric, then immediately looked away again, her cheeks still aflame.

“Do you not compliment her?” Eric protested, throwing his hands up. “I’m not wrong. She looks like a sunrise after a bleak, stormy night.”

The table fell silent again.

Welyvyne blinked at him, wide-eyed, before snapping her gaze down to her tray. Her cheeks burned hotter, if that was even possible.

Lyren clapped a hand over her mouth, torn between laughter and shock. “Eric—do you hear yourself?”

Kaelen leaned back, grinning openly now. “Yeah… you’re not helping your case.”

Eric frowned, exasperated. Then he stood and jabbed a finger toward a student at the next table. “You. Does she not look like a sunrise compared to—well—everything else?”

The unfortunate boy froze mid-bite, spoon dangling in his hand. His gaze flicked to Welyvyne. The moment their eyes met, his face went red. He yelped, nodded vigorously, then ducked back over his oatmeal as if his life depended on it.

“See?” Eric declared triumphantly, throwing his hands wide. “Anyone can see it.”

Welyvyne groaned and buried her face in her hands. Kaelen nearly doubled over with laughter. Even Lyren, despite herself, wheezed into her sleeve.

Then Lyren’s eyes went wide. She threw her hands in the air and shouted, “Why don’t you just jump on the table and tell everyone how beautiful she is?”

Without missing a beat, Eric leapt to his feet, his voice ringing through the dining hall. “Is she not?”

The hall froze. Dozens of students stared, whispers rippling instantly through the room.

Lyren hissed across the table, voice sharp enough to cut. “Sit down. Are you trying to kill your friend here?”

Eric blinked at her, then glanced at Welyvyne. She was practically folded over herself, her cloak-less shoulders hunched as if trying to vanish.

His confidence faltered. Slowly, he eased back onto the bench. “…Right. Maybe I overdid it.”

Kaelen wheezed with laughter, wiping at his eyes. “Overdid it? Eric, you just declared her the dawn incarnate in front of the whole dining hall.”

Welyvyne groaned. “Please. Stop. Talking.”

Eric cleared his throat. “Well, it’s not like all of us don’t stand out. Look at me—human barbarian.” He gestured at himself. Then he nodded at Lyren. “You—you look like a literal moonlit night.”

Lyren blinked, her sharp glare faltering into startled silence.

“And Kaelen,” Eric finished, pointing across the table, “he’s the personification of what a perfect elf should look like.”

Kaelen straightened despite the sling, lips twitching in a proud smile. “Well. Can’t argue with that.”

Lyren rolled her eyes, though a reluctant smile tugged at her mouth. Welyvyne risked peeking at Eric through her fingers, the corners of her lips betraying the faintest curve.

Lyren let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “So, this is you? Just… coming up with poetry off the top of your head?”

Eric shrugged, almost sheepish. “It’s easy when you know… when our group looks the way it does.”

The table settled into a strange quiet, the earlier tension softened into something almost warm. Welyvyne peeked at Eric through her fingers again, her lips twitching despite herself. Kaelen gave a small nod, as if agreeing with something unspoken.

Eric shifted in his seat, catching Lyren’s glare, then turned to Welyvyne.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to embarrass you. I was just trying to fix something I thought was broken. You were hiding behind that cloak, and I didn’t think you needed to anymore. You’re part of a group now. And judging by how fast Lyren was ready to kill me…” He flashed a crooked grin. “I’d say you’re in pretty great company.”

Eric hesitated, then glanced around the table. “I should apologize to you guys too. I got upset because it felt like you didn’t see Welyvyne the same way I did. Bright. Strong. Not someone who needs to disappear under a hood.”

Kaelen snorted, shaking his head. “It was going so well… and then that.”

Lyren buried her face in her hands with a groan. “Eric, you really don’t know when to stop, do you?”

Eric blinked, baffled. “What? That was me stopping.”

Then Lyren straightened, her healer’s poise slipping back into place. “You know people are going to talk about what you said, right? You did announce it to the whole dining area.”

Eric froze. His eyes widened. “Craaaap.”

A ripple of laughter broke out across the table. Even Welyvyne, though her cheeks were still scarlet, let out a helpless giggle.

Eric scrubbed a hand over his face, then glanced at Kaelen, sobering. “So, uh… you okay? What happened?”

Kaelen shifted his sling and shook his head. “Eric… I was fighting during the rift break last night. Got a nasty slash to my arm. They pulled me out pretty early, and a healer patched me up. But you know how healing is—it’s never perfect. I need to take it easy for a while.”

Eric frowned, leaning forward. “You got pulled out early, and you still look like that?”

Kaelen gave a wry smile. “Trust me. You should see the ones who didn’t get pulled out.”

The table went quiet for a moment. But before the heaviness could settle too deep, Welyvyne set her spoon down.

“We should get going,” she said quietly. “We don’t want to be late for Artificing.”

Eric glanced at Kaelen and gave him a small nod. “Rest up. We’ll catch you later.”

Kaelen lifted his good hand in a tired salute. “Go make something explode for me.”

Eric smirked. “No promises.”

They gathered their trays, and as they turned toward the doors, the weight of the rift break lingered behind them—but ahead lay the promise of creation.