The sky had grown darker, a deep blue that threatened rain, as Lass and Gin stumbled through the forest. After the ambush, every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs made them jump. Exhausted and injured, they desperately needed shelter. Lass's shoulder burned from the cut she had taken, and Gin looked drained, his steps unsteady.
"Look," Gin whispered, pointing ahead.
Through the thick trees, Lass saw an old, abandoned cabin. The wooden walls were worn and moss clung to the roof, but it looked sturdy enough to provide them some safety for the night. Lass nodded, and they hurried inside.
The cabin's interior was simple: a dusty table, a broken chair, and a fireplace filled with ashes. Lass set down her bag and collapsed onto the chair, wincing at the pain in her shoulder.
Gin paced back and forth, his hands still shaking. "I-I'm sorry," he blurted out, his voice trembling. "If I hadn't lost control back there, maybe—"
Lass held up a hand to stop him. "Gin, we survived," she said firmly. "That's what matters."
Gin's eyes filled with guilt. "But I almost hurt you," he whispered, staring at his hands. Sparks of magic still danced between his fingers, wild and untamed. "I can't control it, Lass. My magic is dangerous."
Lass stood up slowly, ignoring the pain in her shoulder. She approached him carefully. "We'll find a way," she said. "But first, you need to rest."
Gin shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes. "I can't rest," he muttered. "Every time I try, the magic comes back in my dreams. It never stops."
Lass thought for a moment. Then she remembered something Captain Rhys had taught her about controlling fear during combat. "Let's try something," she said, her voice gentle but firm. She guided Gin to sit on the floor, crossing her legs in front of him.
"What are we doing?" Gin asked, frowning.
"Breathing exercises," Lass said. "It's about focus. Close your eyes."
Gin looked skeptical, but he obeyed, closing his eyes. Lass took a deep breath, wincing at the pain, and then guided him. "Breathe in… slowly," she said. "Hold it. Now, breathe out."
Gin followed her instructions, his breathing uneven at first. But as Lass continued to guide him, his breaths began to slow. The sparks of magic around his hands flickered and then faded, leaving only the gentle rise and fall of his chest.
"Good," Lass said softly. "Now, imagine a calm place. Somewhere you feel safe."
Gin's eyes stayed closed, and his expression softened. "A calm place…" he murmured.
They stayed like that for several minutes, the forest around them quiet. Finally, Gin opened his eyes, and for the first time in a long while, he looked… peaceful.
"That helped," he admitted, his voice filled with surprise. "I didn't think it would."
Lass smiled, sitting back. "Sometimes the simplest things help the most," she said. But then she saw Gin's expression darken, and she knew there was something deeper bothering him.
"Gin," she said softly, "you never talk about where you come from. I want to know. What happened to make you so afraid of your own magic?"
Gin's shoulders tensed, and he turned away, staring at the dusty floor. "It's not a happy story," he said, his voice flat.
"I'm not asking for happy," Lass replied. "I'm asking for the truth."
Gin sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "Fine," he said, his voice low. "My magic showed up when I was a kid. At first, it was small. Harmless. I could make little lights, make water dance in the air. My parents thought it was… special."
He paused, swallowing hard. "But then it got worse. I couldn't control it. I hurt people, Lass. My own family. They didn't say it out loud, but I saw the fear in their eyes. Friends stopped coming by. Everyone treated me like a monster."
Lass felt a pang of sympathy. "That must have been so lonely," she said.
Gin nodded, his eyes wet with unshed tears. "I tried to run away. Thought if I left, they'd be safer. But trouble followed me. No matter where I went, my magic hurt people. So I stopped trying to control it. Stopped hoping." He finally looked at her, his eyes filled with pain. "How can you trust me when I don't trust myself?"
Lass reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Because I know what it's like to feel alone," she said. "To feel like no one really sees you. As a princess, I was surrounded by people, but they only cared about my title. My duties. Sometimes I felt like a prisoner in my own home."
Gin's eyes widened. "You? Lonely?" he asked, disbelief in his voice.
Lass nodded. "We all have our struggles," she said. "But you and I… we have a chance to help each other. We can't let the past or our fears stop us."
Gin was silent for a moment, then he gave a small, hesitant smile. "Maybe you're right," he said. "Maybe we do have a chance."
A crack of thunder made them both jump, and rain began to pour outside. The cabin's roof creaked, but it held. Lass sighed and leaned back against the wall. "At least we're dry," she said with a chuckle.
Gin laughed too, the sound light and genuine. "Yeah," he said, his eyes brighter. "Small victories, right?"
They sat in companionable silence for a while, listening to the rain. But Lass knew their journey was only going to get harder. They had to prepare.
"Tomorrow," she said, breaking the silence, "we'll train. Practice controlling your magic. If we're going to face more mercenaries or whoever hired them, we need to be ready."
Gin looked nervous, but he nodded. "Okay," he said. "I'll try. For you… and for our mission."
Lass smiled, feeling a flicker of hope. "That's all I ask," she said.
The rain continued to fall, and the cabin felt warmer, safer, than before. Despite the danger lurking ahead, Lass felt a bond forming between her and Gin. Trust wouldn't come easily, but it was a start.
As night fell, they knew that together, they might just have the strength to break the curse that had haunted both of their lives.