Chapter 126: Free meal tickets

Anke’s voice was a little hoarse.

“Mm.” Freya nodded.

Anke walked over and shoved the bundle into Lyra’s hands.

“Dry rations, to eat on the road.”

Then she pulled a letter from her pocket.

“This is for a friend of mine in Winter Order. Her family lives there. If something comes up, you can find her.”

Her tears fell. She quickly wiped them away with the back of her hand.

“Don’t you die.”

Freya looked at her, looked for a long time.

“I won’t.”

Sophie walked over and hugged Freya tightly.

“Promise me.”

Her voice was muffled, coming from Freya’s shoulder.

“Come back alive.”

Freya stood there, almost unable to breathe from Sophie’s hug. She didn’t push her away. She just reached out and gently patted Sophie on the back.

“I promise you.”

Sophie let go. Her eyes were red, but she didn’t cry. She stepped back, looked at Freya, then at Lyra.

“Take care of her.”

Lyra nodded firmly.

“I will!”

Serar stood in the distance, not coming over. He just stood there, his ice-blue hair gently swaying in the morning breeze, his deep blue eyes fixed on Freya. Their eyes met in the air. He nodded slightly, without saying a word. Freya also nodded, then turned and walked toward the academy gate.

Lyra followed behind her, carrying the bulging pack, her red eyes sparkling. Morning light spilled onto the stone pavement, stretching their shadows long and overlapping.

Anke and Sophie stood where they were, watching the gradually receding figure. Serar stood in the distance, also looking in that direction.

“Will she come back?”

Anke asked quietly.

Sophie didn’t speak. She just stood there, clenching her fists.

The carriage was waiting at the academy gate. Freya got on the carriage. Lyra climbed up and sat beside her. The wheels rolled, and the academy gate gradually receded behind them.

Lyra leaned against the window, watching the familiar buildings grow smaller and smaller, until they became a blurry silhouette.

“Boss, when are we coming back?”

“I don’t know.”

Lyra nodded and didn’t ask further. She shrank back into her seat, fished a piece of jerky from the pack, and started gnawing on it. The carriage drove through the streets, through the market, through the scenery that was both familiar and unfamiliar to Freya.

She leaned against the carriage wall and closed her eyes. The black crystal shard was still pulsating in the depths of her heart, cold and chaotic. Her hand pressed against her chest, feeling those three distinct heartbeats.

“Boss.”

Lyra’s voice came from beside her.

“Mm.”

“No matter what happens, I’ll be with you.”

Freya opened her eyes and looked at Lyra’s serious, determined face.

“I know.”

The carriage continued forward, heading north. There, the snow-capped mountains of Winter Order awaited, the ancient library, and perhaps the answers she could find. And unknown dangers. But at least for now, they were together. Sunlight streamed in through the window, falling on them both, warm.

The carriage continued northward, the wheels grinding over the gravel road producing a monotonous sound. Lyra leaned against the carriage wall, clutching the purple crystal stone in her hand, her red eyes gazing at the scenery flying past the window. Freya sat across from her, eyes closed, seemingly resting.

“Boss.”

Lyra spoke.

“Mm.”

“Are you asleep?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Lyra paused. “Boss, is Winter Order very cold?”

“Mm.”

“Colder than the Northern Frontier?”

“Different. The Northern Frontier is dry cold. Winter Order is damp cold, cold to the bone.”

Lyra shrank her neck and clutched the purple crystal stone tighter.

“Then I need to wear more.”

Freya opened her eyes and glanced at her.

“You don’t have thick clothes.”

Lyra was taken aback.

“Ah… right. My clothes were all bought by you, all thin ones.”

“Buy them when we get to Winter Order.”

“Okay.”

Lyra nodded, then fell silent again. After a while, she spoke again.

“Boss, have you been to Winter Order before?”

“Once. When I was very young, with Mother.”

“What for?”

Freya was silent for a moment.

“To attend a magic symposium. Mother was the keynote speaker.”

Lyra blinked.

“Your mom is amazing.”

“Mm.”

“You’ll be that amazing too someday.”

Freya didn’t speak. Lyra looked at her, at that calm, expressionless face, and suddenly said, “Boss, are you cold?”

“No.”

“Then why are you hunching?”

Freya looked down at herself—she was indeed hunched, shoulders slightly drawn in, hands tucked into her sleeves. She hadn’t even noticed herself.

“Just a habit.”

Lyra wasn’t convinced, but didn’t press further. She took off her scarf and handed it to Freya.

“Wear it. I’m not cold.”

Freya looked at the scarf—pale blue, one she had bought for Lyra when she first came to the academy. The edges were already pilled, but it was washed clean.

“No need.”

“Wear it.”

Lyra’s tone was uncharacteristically firm.

“Your face is so pale. Your lips are a bit blue too.”

Freya looked at her, was silent for a few seconds, then took the scarf and wrapped it around her neck. The scarf still held Lyra’s body heat, warm, with a faint scent of soap. She closed her eyes again.

The carriage continued forward. Lyra watched her wear her scarf, a strange, indescribable satisfaction welling up in her heart. She shrank back into her seat, hugged the pack, and closed her eyes too. The sound of the wheels rolling was monotonous and dull, over and over, like a lullaby. Her consciousness began to blur.

Suddenly, the carriage stopped.

Lyra’s eyes snapped open, and she looked at Freya—she had also opened her eyes, those pale purple irises instantly becoming clear.

“Arrived?” Lyra asked.

Freya didn’t answer. She lifted the carriage curtain, glanced outside, then let it fall.

“No.”

“Then why did we stop?”

“Someone blocked the road.”

Lyra frowned, her hand already on the door handle. She pushed the door open and jumped down, her red eyes alertly fixed ahead—a person stood in the middle of the road, ice-blue hair fluttering in the wind, deep blue eyes curved into crescent moons, a smirk on his lips that begged to be punched.

Serar.

Lyra’s brow twisted into a knot.

“What are you doing here?”

Serar smiled at her, then looked at Freya, who was leaning out of the carriage.

“Going to Winter Order. It’s on the way.”

“Who told you we were going to Winter Order?”

“Guessed.”

Serar spread his hands, expression innocent.

“I know all about Freya collapsing. Her body hasn’t recovered yet, and she’s rushing north in a hurry. Where else would she be going if not to look for answers in Winter Order?”

Lyra’s teeth ground together.

“Were you following us?”

“No. I’ve been waiting here all night.”

Serar pointed to a stone by the roadside that was smoothed from sitting.

“I got here last night. Afraid you’d leave early, so I didn’t dare sleep.”

Lyra was stunned. She looked at Serar—there were indeed dark circles under his eyes, his robes were damp with dew, and his ice-blue hair wasn’t as flowing as usual, but somewhat disheveled, sticking to his face. He really had waited here all night.

“Why are you waiting for us?”

Her voice lowered a bit, but her wariness didn’t diminish.

Serar looked toward Freya in the carriage.

“I know Winter Order well. You need a guide.”

“We don’t need one.”

Lyra refused flatly.

Serar didn’t look at her, still gazing at Freya.

“Winter Order isn’t like the academy. The people there are rough, and you won’t understand the language. The two of you—one sick, one a stranger—won’t even find a place to stay.”

“We can find one ourselves—”

“In winter, inns in Winter Order don’t open to outsiders.”

Serar interrupted her.

“Only locals can vouch for you to stay.”

Lyra opened her mouth, but couldn’t find words. She looked at Freya.

Freya leaned against the carriage door, looking at Serar. There was no expression in those pale purple eyes.

“Why are you helping us?”

Serar was silent for a moment.

“Because I owe you my life.”

Freya’s brow twitched slightly.

“Theocrat said that if that power kept spreading, the whole academy would have been doomed. You saved everyone.”

He paused.

“I want to repay you.”

The wind blew, rolling a few fallen leaves into spirals between them. Freya looked at him for a long time. Then she turned and went back into the carriage.

“Come on up.”

Serar’s eyes lit up. Lyra was frantic.

“Boss!”

“A free guide is better than no guide.”

Freya’s voice came from inside the carriage, calm.

“Think of the money we’re saving.”

Lyra stood at the carriage door, looking at Freya, then at Serar. That smiling face made her teeth itch, but the boss was right—a free guide did save money. Gritting her teeth, she stepped aside to let Serar onto the carriage.

Serar climbed up and sat across from her, his face full of smiles.

“Thank you, Lyra.”

Lyra glared at him.

“Don’t get close to the boss.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t talk to the boss.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t look at the boss.”

“This…” Serar blinked. “That might be a bit hard.”

Lyra’s fists clenched again.

Freya’s voice came from beside her.

“Lyra, sit down.”

Lyra reluctantly sat back, her red eyes still fixed on Serar. Serar didn’t mind. He took a paper bag out of his space ring.

“Have you had breakfast? I bought bread.”

Lyra turned her head away.

“Not eating.”

Serar didn’t insist. He set the paper bag aside. The carriage started moving again, the wheels grinding over the gravel road, the sound monotonous and dull.

The carriage was quiet for a while, then Lyra spoke again.

“How did you know we’d take this road?”

“Winter Order is to the north. This road is the only way. Besides, you left from the academy, so you’d definitely take the main road. So I waited here.”

“What if we didn’t come this way?”

“Then I’d go to the academy to find you.”

Lyra snorted and didn’t say anything more. Freya leaned against the carriage wall, her eyes closed, her breathing growing lighter. Her head gradually drooped, finally resting on Lyra’s shoulder.

Lyra froze completely, not moving, even her breathing became lighter. She turned her head, looking at Freya’s face resting on her shoulder.