Being a third wheel is like being an unpaid intern at a love affair—lots of hours, no recognition, but hey, you might learn something.
Third Wheel
I found Coffee and Mica sitting on a low stone bench, clearly in the middle of some kind of date. The easy way they leaned into each other made it obvious—though Coffee was trying to hide his smile, which was half-hidden behind a mug of coffee.
I raised an eyebrow as I approached. "A romantic getaway, is it?"
Coffee's head snapped up, her bright eyes narrowing as she took in the situation. "Shay..."
Mica made a show of rolling his eyes but didn't say anything. Instead, he seemed perfectly content to let his quiet presence fill the space between us.
"Listen, I need some help," I said, getting straight to the point. "There's going to be a lot of work going on with the spatial isolation. I need people who can defend the mages while they're busy. You two seem like the perfect candidates. Plus, if Coffee, you can borrow some of your father's vampires, that'd be a huge help."
Coffee's eyes flicked to Mica for a moment, then back to me. "We can help," she said, voice steady, but I noticed the hesitation in her gaze. "But borrowing my father's vampires... that's not exactly an easy request, Shay. You know how he is."
"I do," I acknowledged. "But we don't have a lot of options here. We need every advantage we can get."
She sighed, her expression softening. "I'll talk to him."
"Okay."
I sat down next to them, letting out a long breath as I relaxed into the stone bench. My eyes closed, and I let the warmth of the sun soak into my skin, the soft breeze brushing past my face. For the first time in days, I actually felt a little bit of peace.
Coffee shifted uncomfortably beside me, her usual ease with me nowhere to be found. I could tell she was trying not to look at me, but her discomfort was obvious.
"Shay."
"Yea?" I mumbled, not bothering to open my eyes.
"What are you doing?" Mica asked, his tone flat.
"Chilling, brother," I replied, cracking a smile even though my eyes remained closed. "What does it look like? I didn't have a good night's sleep in ages!"
Coffee looked at me, clearly not convinced by my relaxed posture. She glanced at Mica for a second before shifting uneasily again. Mica noticed her discomfort and decided to take matters into his own hands.
"Why do you have to relax here?" he asked, his voice almost impatient.
I grinned, still keeping my eyes closed. "Hm, the sun's shining, and it feels good on my skin. What's your problem, Mica?"
"Can't you relax in another park?" he asked as if he was trying to push me into moving.
I hummed, finally cracking one eye open to look at him. "What if I want to enjoy the presence of my friends?" I said, my tone light but with a hint of seriousness.
He didn't budge, staring me down. "Well, this is not the time for that."
I couldn't help it. I opened both eyes now and looked at Mica with a dramatic sigh. "Haah. You are so heartless," I said, half-laughing and half-grumbling.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed. "Someone has to keep you grounded."
I smiled, feeling a little lighter, despite the tension. "Fine, fine. But I'm enjoying this moment while it lasts."
Coffee let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh, and I could tell she was trying to push aside whatever awkwardness had settled between us. But I knew as I looked at her and Mica, that I needed to enjoy moments like this. The world was about to get a whole lot more dangerous, and I wanted to hold onto whatever calm I could find for as long as possible.
I watched them for a long moment, my gaze lingering on the subtle way Coffee rested her head on Mica's shoulder, and the almost imperceptible way their hands were intertwined. It was an easy kind of closeness, the sort of comfort that came with love and trust, and it made me pause for a second.
"Yeah," I said finally, a smirk tugging at my lips, "you two make a pretty cute couple."
Coffee froze, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of red as she quickly pulled away, her flustered expression betraying how little she was used to being called out like that. "Shay!" she stammered, clearly embarrassed. "W-What are you talking about?"
Mica, on the other hand, let out a chuckle, clearly amused by the sudden shift in her demeanor. He leaned back, looking at me with a playful glint in his eye. "Well, aren't you observant?" he said with a laugh, clearly enjoying her reaction.
I leaned back a little, hands behind my head, and let out a teasing sigh. "It's not my fault if you two are so obvious. Maybe you should try being less cute."
Coffee shot me an incredulous look, but she couldn't hide the way her embarrassment was giving way to a soft smile. "You're impossible," she muttered, but there was warmth in her voice.
Mica just laughed again, clearly unbothered by the teasing. "Ah, don't mind him. He's just jealous he hasn't found someone who can make him blush."
I raised an eyebrow at Mica, but before I could say anything else, I noticed the quiet way Coffee smiled at him, her expression softening in a way that was so natural it made my chest tighten just a little. There was a lot more going on between them than just a casual relationship, and for some reason, that made this moment feel just a little more meaningful.
I stretched my legs out, leaning back comfortably on the park bench as I watched them for a moment longer. The gentle breeze was nice, but my mind was elsewhere. I glanced at Mica, who was still smirking like the troublemaker he secretly was.
"Yeah, well, someone caught my eyes actually," I said casually, though my tone held something more underneath.
Mica raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Who's got your attention, Shay?"
I looked away, pretending to study the clouds, though my mind was locked on one person. The image of Lil, with her sharp gaze and the way she carried herself with such quiet confidence, filled my thoughts. "It's… someone," I murmured, my eyes lingering on the horizon.
"What! Don't leave me hanging! Who is she?" His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, clearly enjoying my discomfort.
I rolled my eyes, but there was no hiding the faint smile tugging at my lips. "Does it matter?"
Coffee was looking between the two of us, her cheeks still tinged with the remnants of her embarrassment. But now, her gaze was curious. "You're serious?"
I just nodded, trying to avoid meeting her eyes. "Yeah, I guess so. Not that it matters, though," I added with a shrug, trying to brush it off. "It's complicated."
Mica's grin faded just a little, but there was still amusement in his eyes. "Complicated, huh? Sounds like you've got yourself in a bit of a mess."
I smirked, letting out a small, humorless laugh. "What's new?"
There was a long pause, and for a moment, the three of us just sat in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. That was the end of that conversation, and though I didn't bring up Lil's name, my thoughts were still filled with her.
(...)
The campfire's glow painted the gypsy encampment in hues of orange and gold. Shadows of wagons and tents swayed with the flames, mingling with the faint scent of spiced tea and roasting chestnuts. As I stepped into the camp, the buzz of conversation dipped momentarily, replaced by curious glances and subtle nods.
The gypsies had always been respectful—quietly acknowledging my presence without fanfare. Well, most of them.
"Your Majesty!" a cheeky voice rang out.
I turned, already knowing the culprit. The lutist sat perched on a barrel, his lute balanced across his lap as if it were a crown jewel. His grin was all teeth as he gave me an exaggerated bow. "What an honor to have the Hueless King gracing our humble camp."
I shot him a look, half-amused, half-exasperated. "Do you ever tire of yourself?"
"Never, my liege." He plucked a few playful notes from his lute before launching into a farcical tune that sounded suspiciously like a fanfare.
Luna's voice interrupted him before I could reply. "Enough, Rickey. Let the man breathe."
I turned to see her approaching from one of the larger trailers, her skirts swishing as if she were floating rather than walking. Her dreamy eyes met mine, and a soft smile touched her lips.
"Shay," she greeted warmly, gesturing toward her trailer. "Come inside. We can speak more privately."
I nodded, following her past the fire.
The inside of Luna's trailer smelled of herbs and incense, the space filled with vibrant fabrics and shelves lined with trinkets and bottles. She motioned for me to sit on a cushioned bench while she poured tea from a steaming kettle.
"You're not here for a casual visit," she said once she'd handed me a cup. Her tone was knowing, her sharp gaze leaving no room for evasion.
"No," I admitted, cradling the tea in my hands. "The battle is approaching. I need your help."
Luna raised an eyebrow as she sat opposite me. "What kind of help?"
"There's a spell the mages have been working on—a spatial isolation spell. It's nearly complete, but it will need fine-tuning and stabilization on the battlefield. And for that, I need empaths. Your connection to the emotions and energy around you could make all the difference in perfecting it."
Her brows furrowed, and she set her tea down. "A spell like that... it's powerful. Dangerous, even. What's the purpose?"
"To isolate the battlefield," I explained, leaning forward. "To contain the chaos and prevent collateral damage. If I fail... This spatial isolation spell will be the only thing that can save the world. It's not just about winning the war—it's about protecting those who shouldn't be dragged into it."
She studied me, her expression unreadable.
"Empaths understand balance. You can sense instability and adjust it before it becomes a problem. Without that sensitivity, the spell could backfire—or worse," I added.
Luna's gaze softened slightly, but there was still a flicker of doubt in her eyes. "You're asking a lot, Shay. This isn't just a favor—it's a responsibility that could put my people at risk."
"I know," I said quietly. "And I wouldn't ask if it weren't important. You know I wouldn't."
She sighed, shaking her head with a faint smile. "You always were good at convincing me to do the impossible."
"Is that a yes?"
"It's a 'we'll see,'" she said, standing and brushing her hands on her skirt. "I'll talk to the others."
She leaned back, studying me as if I were an ancient puzzle she was piecing together.
"You feel... different," she said, her voice thoughtful. "Your soul—it's heavier. Full of grief and pain."
"You spot everything, huh?"I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I've been remembering things. From my past lives."
Luna's teacup paused halfway to her lips, her sharp eyes locking onto mine. "What do you mean, 'past lives'?"
"I mean exactly that," I said, keeping my tone steady. "I've been remembering things. From my past lives."
Her lips parted slightly, her usual composure faltering. "Shay, that's… That's not normal."
I leaned back in my chair, sighing as I raked a hand through my hair. "No, it's not. But nothing about me has ever been normal, has it?"
She set the teacup down, her hands trembling slightly. "Explain. From the beginning."
"The Time Mage," I began, my voice calm but heavy. "She turned back time—not once, but four times. Completely rewinding the world. This… this is my fifth life."
Luna stared at me as if I'd just announced the sky was falling. "You're telling me you've lived—and died—four times? And now, suddenly, you remember it all?"
"No," I admitted, my gaze fixed on the patterns of the carpet beneath my feet. "I didn't die in those lives, Luna." I met her gaze briefly. "They did. The people around me. Again and again."
Her face softened with a mixture of shock and sorrow. "You remember them all?"
"Not everything," I admitted, my gaze fixed on the patterns of the carpet beneath my feet. "It comes in flashes. But enough to know I couldn't save them. Enough to know the constants."
She leaned back, visibly processing this. "And you've carried that all this time? Shay…"
I let out a dry chuckle. "What could anyone do about it?"
Luna shook her head slowly. "Shay, this… this is why you feel so weighed down. Your soul—it's not just grief. It's loss compounded over decades."
Her words hit harder than I wanted to admit, but I waved her off with a strained smile. "Ah, come on, Luna. My soul's fine. Maybe a little banged up, but still kicking. You don't see me crying into a bottle of brandy."
She frowned, unconvinced. I shrugged, trying to seem casual.
Luna studied me closely for a long moment. "This is why you're so focused on the war now."
I nodded. "If I can't change the past, I can change the future."
She sighed and leaned forward. "We'll help."
I nodded my thanks.
She was quiet for a moment, digesting it all. Then, with an almost hesitant voice, she asked, "Shay… Did I die?"
Her question hung in the air like an arrow notched in a bow, its point aimed straight at me. I blinked, torn between laughing at the absurdity of her daring to ask and the cold ache of truth it stirred.
No one had ever asked that before. Not Lil, not Mazen, not anyone who knew or guessed about my memories. They all tiptoed around the question like it was a landmine, and here Luna had just stomped right on it.
For a moment, I just stared at her, unsure if I wanted to laugh or cry. Maybe both. "That's a bold question," I finally said, my voice a mix of strained amusement and faint bitterness.
"Well?" she pressed, unflinching, her perceptive eyes scanning my face.
I exhaled sharply, leaning forward and bracing my elbows on my knees. "Yes, Luna. You did."
She didn't flinch, though her eyes dimmed with the weight of my answer. "How?"
I shook my head. "I'm not telling you that."
"Why not?" she asked, frowning.
"Because it doesn't matter," I said firmly, my voice steady and unwavering. "I will save you."
Her lips parted, stunned by the sheer force of my words.
"I will, Luna." I cut her off before she could talk, my tone resolute, like a blade striking stone. "It's not up for debate. This is your life now, and I'll make damn sure you live it. Fully. Safely."
The silence that followed wasn't awkward—it was heavy, thick with something unspoken. Luna didn't argue, didn't push back. She just looked at me, her gaze steady, unflinching, and devastatingly open.
In her caramel eyes, I saw something I wasn't sure I deserved: absolute trust. Not the fleeting kind people offer because they have no other choice. No, this was deeper, stronger—a trust so complete it felt like it reached into my chest and twisted.
My heart ached under the weight of it. How could she believe in me like this? After everything I'd done, everything I'd failed to do in all those lives… yet here she was, wordlessly telling me she didn't need proof or promises. Just me.
My breath caught, and for a fleeting moment, I wanted to look away, to shield myself from the rawness of it. But I couldn't.
I wouldn't.
She was giving me something rare, something unshakable, and the least I could do was stand tall under the light of it.
After what felt like an eternity, Luna finally spoke. Her voice was soft but carried the weight of unshakable certainty.
"Yes, you will," she said, her words gentle yet firm. "I know."
I swallowed hard, the knot in my chest tightening. Somehow, that quiet statement—those three simple words—meant more than all the words I'd ever heard.
She knew. She believed.
And for the first time in a very long time, I felt like I could.
I exhaled slowly, letting the tension bleed out of my shoulders. "Thank you, Luna," I said, my voice quieter now. "For… trusting me."
It was almost laughable—how she made it seem so natural like it hadn't cost her anything to hold this faith in me.
She tilted her head, her lips curving into a faint smile. "I always have."
"Sometimes I wonder if you're too good at this," I muttered, trying to lighten the mood even as I rubbed the back of my neck. "Consoling me when I don't even know I need that."
Her smile grew, and a teasing glint lit up her eyes. "Oh, I know. But someone has to. And you're stubborn as hell about admitting it, so…" She shrugged, the movement casual, but her warmth was unmistakable.
I let out a soft huff of laughter despite myself. "Not stubborn. Just efficient."
She raised an eyebrow. "Efficient, huh? Is that what we're calling it now?"
I smirked, grateful for the shift in tone. "It's the dignified version. Let me have this one."
Her soft chuckle echoed through the trailer, easing the heaviness of the moment—but the sound tugged at a memory buried deep within me, unbidden and sharp.
A different Luna, in a different time. Older, worn, yet her voice had carried the same warmth, the same quiet resilience. Don't make this face… It's not your fault, she'd said, her hand resting gently on mine, her eyes filled with something between sorrow and forgiveness.
I blinked, forcing myself back into the present. Luna was watching me, her head tilted slightly, a flicker of concern in her gaze.
"You alright?" she asked, her voice breaking through the haze of memory.
I forced a smile, though it felt hollow in my chest. "Yeah."
She studied me for a moment longer, her perceptive nature far too sharp for my liking. But instead of pressing, she just nodded and let it slide.
The past was a beast I could never quite tame, always lurking, ready to sink its claws in when I least expected it.
"Let's focus on what we can fix, yeah?" I said, standing straighter and brushing off the moment.
Her smile returned, small but genuine. "Alright. Let's get to work."
The memory still lingered at the edges of my mind, but I shoved it down, unwilling to let it take hold. Not today. Not while there was still so much to do.
Stepping outside, the gypsies had returned to their usual activities, though I caught a few glances in my direction.
"Your Majesty!" Rickey called again, his grin infuriatingly wide.
Ignoring him, I walked back toward the shadows beyond the firelight, my mind already racing with possibilities for how to win this battle.