Evening draped over the sky in deepening hues, the last traces of daylight bleeding like a whisper into the horizon’s smudged ink on damp parchment. The air had shifted, taking on that subtle, heavy chill that came with the settling dusk. Shadows stretched longer, creeping beneath the towering trees like silent stalkers, and the dim glow of scattered campfires flickered against the encroaching dark.
The loose camp for Wanderers stood ahead... less of a structured outpost and more of a scattered congregation of the weary. Newly Makeshift tents sagged under their own weight, hastily assembled shelters leaning against tree trunks or sprawled unevenly across the damp earth. The scent of charred wood, damp soil, and unwashed bodies lingered in the air, mingling with the distant murmurs of returning Wanderers.
Celia, Jess, and I made our way through the uneven ground, weaving past scattered groups of resting figures and hushed conversations.
Uvan and Lovia sat near one of the larger campfires, a crude ring of scorched stones encircling the lazy embers. They weren’t alone. A handful of other Wanderers... team leaders, from the looks of them, sat nearby, their postures loose yet watchful, their voices dipping in and out of conversation.
I didn’t feel like joining them. Neither did Celia or Jess.
So, we settled by a smaller fire, just far enough to be separate but close enough to listen if needed.
The silence stretched between us, thick and pressing, like the weight of something unseen but felt. The fire crackled, its glow casting shifting patterns across our faces, the light catching in Celia’s white hair, in the glint of Jess’s orange eyes. No one spoke.
No forced conversations. No idle chatter. Just the quiet, the kind that let thoughts creep in.. the kind that pressed against the skull and made the world feel heavier than it already was.
I let my gaze settle on the fire, watching as the embers pulsed with each shifting breeze, glowing bright before dimming again.
More Wanderers returned, their figures slipping through the dark like shadows, some in groups, others alone. It didn’t matter to me. They weren’t my problem.
But the silence between us? That was starting to feel like one.
A slow breath left my lips before I finally spoke.
"Hey," I said, my voice cutting through the quiet like a knife through cloth. My lips curled slightly, amusement creeping into my tone. "Why don’t the three of us play a game?"
Jess shifted, glancing at me with a raised brow, her orange eyes flickering with the reflection of the flames.
"What game?" she asked, her voice smooth, but there was something in the way she leaned slightly forward.. subtle, but there. Interest.
I gestured lazily with my fingers, motioning them closer to the fire. The warmth licked against my skin as I leaned in, my voice dropping just enough to pull them in with me.
"Truth or Dare," I said. Then, with a smirk, I added, "With a twist."
Celia tilted her head slightly, her silver hair shifting over her shoulder.
"A mix?" she repeated, her tone calm.
Jess mirrored the question. "How’s that supposed to work?"
I let the pause linger, dragging out the anticipation just a little before answering.
"It’s not the usual way of playing," I said. My voice was calm, measured, but laced with just enough amusement to keep them hooked. "First, we play Rock-Paper-Scissors. There has to be only one winner each round. The losers?" I paused, letting my gaze flick between them. "They either answer a truth or take a dare. And the winner? They decide which it is."
The fire crackled between us, the glow reflecting in Celia’s deep blue eyes as she considered it.
Jess leaned back slightly, crossing her arms, but there was a glint in her gaze, something that made it clear she wasn’t opposed.
After a beat, Celia nodded.
Jess exhaled through her nose, then shrugged. "Fine," she said, the corner of her lips twitching. "Let’s play."
I let my smirk widen just a fraction.
"Then let the game begin."
We raised our hands.
A moment of stillness.
Then..
Rock. Paper. Scissors.
Shoot.
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The moment our hands shot out, the result was sealed.
My fingers were poised in a familiar gesture.. scissors. Jess had done the same, her hand mirroring mine. But Celia… rock.
A slow, satisfied smile stretched across her face.
The flickering fire cast shifting shadows over her features, the embers reflecting in her blue eyes as she leaned back slightly, the weight of victory settling in like a quiet storm. Jess exhaled sharply beside me, tilting her head just enough for a few strands of her crimson-tinted hair to shift over her shoulder.
Defeat.
I let out a breath, dragging a hand through my hair as the realization sank in. What now?
Celia had been uncharacteristically quiet for a moment, her expression unreadable. She tilted her head, gaze flickering between me and Jess, a soft hum escaping her lips as if she were savoring the choice ahead.
The fire burned steadily between us, its light casting a warm, uneven glow over the damp earth, the crude ring of stones around it blackened from use. The faint crackling filled the silence as Celia’s smirk deepened.
Jess shifted beside me, watching Celia with cautious eyes.
Then, Celia finally spoke.
"Alright," she began, her voice soft, almost thoughtful. Then she turned to me, her smirk widening just a fraction. "Agon, you’re first."
A tinge of amusement laced her tone, stretching out the moment just a little longer.
I kept my expression neutral, though something in my gut told me I wasn’t going to like this.
I exhaled slowly, tilting my head slightly as I met her gaze. "Throw your best shot," I said, my voice calm despite the creeping sense of regret already settling in my bones.
Her smirk grew.
"It’s a dare," she announced, leaning forward slightly. The firelight caught in her white hair, making it gleam against the darkness. "Agon, I dare you…"
A pause. A slow inhale. Then, with absolute, undeniable amusement lacing her words, she finished...
"…to stand in the middle of the camp and shout, ’I love you, Wanderers!’ "
Silence.
My smile faded.
A cold wave of realization washed over me as the words sank in. That’s insane.
Jess, beside me, let out a quiet, sharp laugh, her shoulders shaking slightly as she turned away to hide her smirk. Celia simply leaned back, her expression the perfect picture of feigned innocence, though the glint in her eyes said otherwise.
I felt my fingers twitch slightly against my knee.
I opened my mouth, then closed it. Then, finally, exhaled, pinching the bridge of my nose as I muttered under my breath, "You’ve got to be kidding me."
Celia just tilted her head, her smirk unrelenting.
I regretted everything.
Every single choice that had led me to this moment.
Why did I ever suggest this game?