Night in the Forest (3)
The nighttime conversation dragged on for quite a while. Kara, true to her Tatar roots, was the talkative type—what you'd call a chatterbox. Even during spars, her people kept up a nonstop stream of banter, pulling out stories of every kind. She explained the reason herself: Tatar's terrain left them with so little to do that conversation was a must. Strangers would swap trivial chit-chat without a second thought. That made Tatars surprisingly sociable under the surface.
"Sure, they still call us barbarians for it. But that's on us, so we let it slide. Just wish they wouldn't lump ordinary folk in with it too."
"Yeah."
"Part of why I joined the academy was to change that image... but it hasn't been easy. They'd smile to my face, then trash me as a barbarian behind my back. Now they do it openly, and it's getting hard to hold back. I hate resorting to force if I can help it."
Kara, like any Tatar, preferred settling things with strength. But she didn't swing first without reason. The academy had pushed her to the brink, and she'd finally snapped.
"Sivar. One thing—no backstabbing gossip, ever. If you've got beef, say it to my face. Talking behind someone's back is betrayal. Got it?"
"Yeah."
Kara was one of those who'd gone through an adjustment period before officially enrolling, just like me. As I'd mentioned before, she'd entered the academy two years ago. She'd built some bonds during that slow acclimation, but overhearing one of them gossiping had sparked her distrust. Backstabbing always hit like a gut punch of betrayal. And for Kara and her Tatar kin, betrayal was the ultimate taboo. In a world where death lurked around every corner, one slip could end you. That was why they were sticklers for fair dealings, even with money.
In the game too, getting caught badmouthing Kara sent your affinity straight to rock bottom.
No matter how maxed out your favor you'd built, one slip and it was over. Nothing you did after could fix it. Your connection with her was dead.
This conversation only triggers at high affinity.
That was why I'd been so shocked. Her line about being glad I was her friend? That only came out at peak favor levels. In other words, Kara's affection for me was sky-high. This whole chat—warning me off betrayal and gossip—stemmed from the same place.
Kara's favor was notoriously tough to raise. She carried her own biases, just like the prejudices others held against her: civilized folk were rude, through and through. But I was far from "civilized," so no biases, and we'd clicked naturally.
Rustle—
Suddenly, a noise came from the makeshift tent. Kara and I whipped around. Grace and Lee Yeonju were still out cold. Hard ground had them grumbling earlier, but now...
Did they wake up midway?
Both were conscious, eyes cracked open. Uncomfortable bedding? Or had they overheard us? Lee Yeonju made sense—the skilled assassin's senses picked up every whisper. But Grace? She was pretending to sleep, though my instincts clocked her presence. Survival in the wild had taught me to spot fakers playing dead.
I was wondering how much they'd caught when...
"...So you're standing watch solo?"
"Yeah."
"They didn't dump it all on you, did they?"
Kara eyed the pair, frowning slightly in annoyance, then turned to me. I shook my head right away. My Wild Instinct kept sleep shallow anyway, so I'd volunteered for the full shift. Plus, Grace couldn't be trusted to stay awake.
She'd insisted on taking the middle watch to lead by example.
She'd just nod off till dawn, like in Soul World where she'd botched it and embarrassed herself. Better I handled it start to finish.
"Then why? Isn't solo watch rough?"
"Used to it."
"Used to it? Oh... right."
Realization dawned on Kara. In the wild, sleep itself was a gamble. You either dozed lightly for long stretches or had your own tricks. Books mentioned some creatures slept standing, or half their brain at a time. I stuck to shallow, extended naps—any stimulus and I'd snap awake.
When was the last time I slept deep?
Excluding blackouts, never. Damn Wild Instinct. At least fatigue never hit hard; my recovery was freakishly fast.
Crackle! Crackle!
I tossed more wood on the dying fire, then asked Kara without turning.
"You?"
"Huh? Me?"
"Not sleeping?"
A polite toss-out. Kara was more guest than teammate; no way she'd crash easy. She got it, smirking as she replied.
"Nah. How could I sleep leaving you alone? We'll just chat till morning."
"Yeah."
"Speaking of, you're getting thoughtful now. Keep it up."
She pinched my cheek like it was nothing. I didn't fight it. Casual touch from friends? I didn't mind—preferred it, even. Years alone in the wild had wired me that way. Instinct, plain and simple.
"Sivar, you know what a desert is? It's this place where everything's sand... and when a sandstorm hits? Total nightmare. Oh, this one's from when I was with Dad..."
"Yeah."
She was still so damn chatty. That saying about ears bleeding? Yeah, I got it now. Kara talked a lot. My half-assed replies didn't slow her. Dawn crept in, and she kept going.
Time flies with a talker. True.
"Ugh... so tired..."
"Me too..."
Next morning, Grace and Lee Yeonju staggered up, faces like the walking dead. Sleepless wrecks. Anyone'd think they'd stood watch.
"What happened to you two? Didn't you sleep?"
"We did... wait, why's Kara here...?"
"Ran into you guys by chance. No fighting, right?"
"Yeah... no strength left..."
Kara slotted into the team naturally.
I hadn't slept a wink. Grace's exhaustion? Partly my fault. Hard ground aside, the drastic change in environment kept jolting her awake. Each time, she'd check if I was on watch, relax, and drift off—only for the cycle to repeat. Until Kara crashed the party, chatting me up.
Friends... right?
Grace popped leftover smoked boar in her mouth and glanced over. Sivar and Kara were munching something. A snake. They'd snagged one somewhere, skinned it, roasted it whole.
Stomach-turning sight, but they devoured it like a feast.
"Snakes back home pack deadly venom, super risky. You ever get bit, Sivar?"
"Lots. Hurt."
"Yeah, agony. I barely survived a bad one."
They even clicked in convo. Looked every bit the friends. But Grace saw different.
She'd eavesdropped through her fitful night. Mostly Kara's monologue, Sivar's short replies—but the gist? Crystal.
Are they really just friends?
Their bond ran deeper than expected. No wariness, even on a field exercise. You don't see that without real closeness. Watch them savor that snake meat, all cozy.
Outwardly, normal pals. But recalling the predawn scene? Different story.
A guy and girl don't pinch cheeks like that. Tatar custom, maybe... but...
She'd woken midway, caught plenty. Heart pounding, terrified of detection—that fueled her tossing too. Kara initiated the teasing; Sivar took it in stride. Pinches, touches—skinship galore.
Grace, who'd devoured novels in her day, couldn't see it as mere friendship. Sivar seemed oblivious, but Kara? Clear affection.
Friends... huh.
She poked at the now-cloying smoked boar. Fatigue dulled her taste.
A little jealous, maybe.
Barbarian and wild man. Oddly perfect match. And Kara defied the "savage" label—polite, good-natured. No unprovoked violence, per her intel. The other side started it.
Making friends at the academy? Tough. For me, impossible.
Old days, maybe. Now? Cutthroat competition. Nations and houses sent elites to climb ranks; Grace fit the mold. No room for buddies. Especially as a duke's daughter—status froze relations solid.
Her sharp looks didn't help. Dad's spitting image; even her kindness got misread as scheming. Her background? Most folded first. She'd try clearing the air, only to hit walls.
Every word twisted into suspicion. Exhausting.
...What am I even thinking? Snap out of it.
A wave of melancholy hit, but she shook it off. This was the United Academy. No fairy tales. Especially not the "storybook" dreams she'd harbored. Father’s mantra: separate reality from ideals.
Sivar will adapt to civilization, learn his place, and turn out the same. Obviously.
Kara's closeness had sparked stray thoughts, but reality ruled. Focus on the exercise. She'd planned to bond with Sivar gradually anyway. Status loomed huge, but Kara was a Tatar princess too. Inch forward. Become friends...
"No. No. No. What am I..."
"?"
Grace muttered, shaking her head. Lee Yeonju shot her a weird look. Internally, Grace corrected: Friends maybe, but not close enough for secrets.
Yeah. Friends should be fine.
She soothed herself that way. Then, in a voice laced with wry bitterness, whispered:
Knight-in-shining-armor? Never.
For now, she shoved aside the childish dream in her heart.