CHAPTER 288: 288: SLEEPING THROUGH TROUBLE

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Azhara took the rear, muttering something about needing something like a carrot coffee. Kai had no idea what carrot coffee was, and he was too afraid to ask.

Lirien climbed up last, muttering about wing drag and center of gravity.

"Just sit down, Forge Witch," Azhara said, scooting over.

"You sit down, big chest bunny," Lirien shot back.

"Forge Goblin."

"Pervebt Bunny."

"Ladies," Kai interrupted. "Save it for the midair brawl."

Once everyone was secured, Kai tapped Alka’s neck lightly.

"Up Girl."

With a mighty beat of her wings, the air cracked.

Alka launched skyward, cutting through the early dawn mist like a knife. Below, the jungle thinned. Trees turned to green smudges. Rivers became winding blue veins. The world shrank beneath them.

And up they soared.

"Next stop," Kai muttered, "Monarch Mountain."

The others cheered or whooped, their voices echoing into the morning sky. Azhara nearly dropped her fruit. Vel screamed like she was dying and then started laughing. Even Akayoroi smiled softly, her antenna twitching in the breeze. The Forge girl was new to the group. She kept quiet for now.

The sun broke the horizon behind them. A golden halo wrapped around the mountains far in the distance. Their destination.

Kai leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. He felt the wind against his shell. He let his senses stretch far.

Predator’s Instinct flared faintly. No immediate threats.

But something... something still prickled at the edge of his awareness. A whisper of movement far off. Not enough to worry the others. But enough to keep his senses alert.

He shook it off. For now, they had distance. They had air. They had a clear path. And for the first time in days, Kai allowed himself to relax. Just a little. They were going home.

Kai lay on Alka’s feathered back, arms folded beneath his head, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. After days of flying, slaying mutated frog tyrants, guiding emotional companions, and surviving Azhara’s hourly attempts to turn everything into a mating ritual, his body had finally demanded rest.

He mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep and shifted slightly onto his side, landing against a warm fur blanket Akayoroi had tucked under him with care. His fingers curled loosely, and for once, no tension pulled at his brow.

Just before drifting off, he had issued one firm command to everyone.

"If the sky is not falling or we are not being chased by another beast with fire breath and butt wings, let me sleep. Wake me only if you see something with more than five eyes. Or if something explodes."

And so, he slept. Deep, calm, and oblivious.

Unfortunately, peace is a fragile thing. And trouble, as always, had much shorter wings than Alka.

It began, as it often did, with Azhara humming. That was never a good sign.

She stood on Alka’s back, arms crossed tightly under her chest, rocking slightly side to side like a deranged conductor preparing to unleash a musical about insanity. Her hair whipped lightly in the breeze, half tamed by nothing except wind.

"Hmm hmm hmm," she trilled, clearly building up to something.

Across the bird’s back, Lirien was seated with her knees pulled in, polishing a cracked bracer with slow, deliberate care. Her fingers moved with precision, every touch betraying the soul of a craftswoman. But her shoulders stiffened the moment Azhara’s hum reached her ears.

"No," she said flatly without looking up.

Azhara’s grin widened with the satisfaction of someone who had just been proven correct without trying.

"You do not even know what I was going to say," she replied.

Lirien sighed and tilted her head, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Because I know your face. That is your ’I am about to say something disturbing’ face. Like when you asked if fire beast eggs taste like spicy marshmallows."

"I still stand by that theory," Azhara said, entirely too proud. "But this topic is far tastier than eggs."

She leaned in with the slow glide of a gossip serpent, eyes sparkling.

"It is about you. And our handsome Ant lord. You know, the one napping over there with his mouth open like he is dreaming of biting someone’s chest lovingly."

Lirien’s hand froze over her bracer.

Azhara raised her eyebrows dramatically. "You should sleep with him. Let his Anaconda destroy your lady part."

The polishing tool slipped out of Lirien’s hand. It bounced once. Then twice. Then slid off Alka’s wing and was never seen again. Possibly it reached the land and on someone’s head.

"I beg your pardon?" Her voice cracked halfway through the sentence. Her face glowed pink.

"Come on," Azhara said, flopping onto her side like a lazy house cat. "You like him. We all know it. Even that poor cactus Naaro was talking to yesterday knows it. And that cactus has more romantic awareness than you."

"I..." Lirien stared at her lap. "I do not... That is... I admire him. He is my master and I am his Subordinate."

"Sure," Azhara said as she propped her chin on her fist. "And you want to melt into his arms like molten silver. Just admit it already."

Lirien turned away again. Her voice dropped to a softer, more fragile pitch.

"I am not like you, Azhara. I do not leap into the fire because it glows. I want someone to choose me because they see me. Because they love me. Not because I am another face in a crowd of stronger women."

Azhara blinked, sitting up just slightly. "You really just called the harem a battle arena."

Lirien shook her head. "Is it not? Sir Kai has many women. Queen Akayoroi. And you. Even those shadow twins flirt like their lives depend on it. He is surrounded by confident, gorgeous, powerful women. I am just a forge girl. A quiet one. I make tools and armor. I stay in the backline."

Her hands gripped her cloak. Her knuckles turned pale.