Cora's POV
We had washed up onto a rocky shore.
The surrounding scene was breathtaking.
Soft clouds drifted across the sky, and warm sunlight bathed the stone-laden ground.
The air was filled with the fresh scent of grass and flowers.
There was some water pooling at our feet, but it was nowhere near as bad as the downpour we'd encountered earlier.
A sense of confusion settled in me—had we been swept far away, or had the weather here suddenly changed again?
I didn't dwell on it long and quickly checked on Isla, who was still cradled in my arms.
Thankfully, she was still breathing, though faintly, her forehead burning with a fever.
Her hair was damp with sweat, her face pale, and her small body curled up against me.
"Hurry, the medicine!" I looked anxiously over at Mark.
Mark quickly pulled the sealed children's medicine out of his pack, relieved it hadn't been soaked by the water.
He carefully gave the medicine to Isla, and her tiny chest rose and fell weakly, showing just how fragile she was.
"We need to move quickly. The sun is rising in the direction of the cave," Mark said quietly.
We gathered ourselves and set off toward the rising sun, trying to find the main group from Murias.
Mark carried all the packs, as well as little Isla in his arms, while I did my best to keep up, despite my exhaustion.
Surprisingly, the weather was beautiful.
The warm sunlight shone down on us, drying our soaked clothes quickly.
The temperature rose steadily, as if nature itself was showing mercy to us survivors.
I started feeling a little dizzy and lightheaded.
But thankfully, Isla seemed to be recovering bit by bit. Her eyes fluttered open, still weak, but showing signs of improvement.
The scenery along the way was like something out of paradise—a beautiful world I had never seen before.
The ground was carpeted with small, colorful flowers.
Butterflies danced in the air, and bees buzzed busily among the blossoms.
A gentle breeze brushed against my cheeks, carrying the soft scent of flowers and greenery. It felt like a dream.
"Those are bees," Mark said softly to Isla, pointing at the busy insects, a childlike excitement on his face.
Isla nodded and smiled as she watched the bees flit about.
"I heard about them from my father when I was little, but I've never seen them in person," I said, feeling a bit nostalgic.
Mark smiled. "Bees play a critical role in nature. They're the primary drivers of pollination and key to maintaining the balance of ecosystems."
Then, turning back to me with a grin, he added, "I read that in a book."
Isla heard our conversation and happily repeated, "Bees! Bees!"
Mark and I exchanged smiles, a rare feeling of lightness washing over us.
"Isla, you said bees!" I said to her in delight.
Isla giggled and then called out to me, "Mama!"
A wave of emotion hit me, and I fought back the tears that welled in my eyes.
The children of Tirnanog had never had the chance to meet their mothers. Their only purpose in life was to give birth to the next generation.
Such a cruel fate.
Then Isla looked up at Mark and called out, "Dada! Dada!"
Mark froze for a second before bursting into laughter. "Are you calling me Dada, Isla?"
Isla giggled and buried her face into Mark's shoulder, a pure and innocent smile on her face.
Watching their interaction, I felt a warm sensation spreading through my chest.
In that moment, Mark looked like a real father, even though I knew it was only a fleeting illusion.
I couldn't help but say, "Thank you for saving me, Mark."
Mark shook his head with a smile. "I didn't really do much. You were brave."
I sighed softly. "I know you've been helping me, especially after Deborah and Matthew left Murias. You were always there, distracting the FDB."
Mark looked a bit surprised before replying, "That was just because of your father. I was only doing my duty."
Mentioning my father brought a heavy silence upon me again.
His disappearance left a void in me that was hard to describe.
"I'm sorry," Mark said quietly, a note of guilt in his voice.
"It's fine," I smiled bitterly. "No matter what, my father will always be my hero."
We kept walking, and for some reason, the path seemed smoother than before.
But I could feel dizziness creeping in again, my body growing heavier.
Maybe it was the aftermath of the storm and the exhaustion from nearly drowning.
"Mark, there's something I want to tell you," I said, taking a deep breath. I decided to express what had been in my heart while the atmosphere was light.
Mark avoided my gaze, as if he didn't want to hear what I was about to say.
He looked down at the ground, then gazed out at the distant scenery.
"I like you, Mark," I said softly, though my voice held a quiet determination.
The words slipped out, carrying the weight of everything I had kept inside. "I know this isn't the best time, with everything we're going through, but I can't keep these feelings bottled up anymore."
Mark's eyes flickered with something unreadable, his gaze falling away from mine as he processed my confession. For a moment, a long moment, he didn't respond.
His lips parted slightly, then closed, his face etched with a blend of surprise and hesitation. It was clear he was struggling, perhaps searching for the right words, or maybe even questioning his own feelings.
The silence grew heavy, and I tried to fill the awkward gap with a gentle smile. "You're making this awkward for me," I teased lightly, hoping to soften the tension between us.
My smile felt a bit shaky, but I meant it—to make him comfortable, to assure him that it was okay to be caught off guard.
He looked at me then, his eyes softening, yet I could see the conflict within them. "I'm honored, Cora," he finally said, his voice low and almost apologetic.
"Truly. You have no idea how much it means to me." He paused, his gaze shifting downward. "But I… I've never really thought about romance. Or marriage. I'm not…"
He hesitated, his shoulders slumping slightly as he sighed, as though a great weight pressed down on him. "I'm not in the best health, Cora. And… I might not have much time left."
There was a raw honesty in his words that struck me deeply.
I could see the sadness in his eyes, the resignation that he seemed to have carried with him for too long.
But I wasn't ready to let him go that easily, to let him wallow in that dark acceptance.
I stepped a little closer, my fingers reaching out to gently touch his arm.
"Mark," I said softly, with a smile that I hoped would reassure him. "You don't have to reject me that way."
He looked at me, slightly taken aback, and I continued, my voice warm but steady. "I'm not asking for promises or forever. I just wanted you to know how I feel. Whatever time you have, whatever time we have—I'm okay with that. I want to be by your side, even if it's just for a short while."
For a moment, he seemed lost for words, and I could see the vulnerability beneath his usually composed exterior.
Slowly, his hand moved, and he gently placed it over mine, his fingers warm despite the chill of the air around us.
"Cora…" he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. He looked into my eyes, and for the first time, I felt like I was truly seeing him, the man behind the quiet strength and selflessness he always displayed.
"I don't deserve this," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "But… thank you. Thank you for giving me something I didn't know I needed."
A soft smile spread across my face, and I squeezed his hand, feeling the warmth that passed between us.
Mark glanced at me, about to explain, but then his expression changed.
He suddenly exclaimed, "Cora, your nose is bleeding!"