Chapter 23: The Decision That Doesn’t Sound Like One

The next morning, Kaelira Voss knew something was wrong before she even reached her stall.
Not because of the market.
Not because of the Tower.
Because of the two figures already waiting there.

Aerin stood a short distance away, not lingering idly like before. This time, he was moving—awkwardly but with intent—running short drills, practicing strikes in the air, repeating motions that lacked refinement but carried determination. His breathing was uneven, his posture imperfect, but he didn’t stop even when he noticed her approaching.
Mira, on the other hand, was right at Kael’s stall.
Too close.

“You’re late,” Mira said immediately, as if she had any right to say it.
Kael didn’t respond.
She stepped past her, setting her things down with precise movements, already preparing to begin her day.
Mira hovered.

“Should I lift that?” she asked, reaching toward a bundle.
Kael moved it before she could touch it.
“I can tie these,” Mira added quickly, grabbing for a cord.
Kael pulled it back.
“I’ll help,” Mira insisted, her voice bright but strained, as if trying too hard to prove something.

Dain, who had arrived just in time to witness the scene, leaned against a nearby post, clearly entertained.
“This is new,” he muttered.
Lera covered a small smile with her hand. “She’s being surrounded.”

Kael ignored them.
At first.

But Mira didn’t stop.
She shifted closer again, trying to organize something that didn’t need organizing, reaching where she shouldn’t, speaking when silence would have been smarter.
Aerin, between his exercises, kept glancing over, as if waiting for approval that wasn’t coming.

It didn’t take long.

“Stop,” Kael said sharply.

Mira froze.
Aerin paused mid-motion.

Kael turned fully this time, her expression colder than it had been in days.
“I didn’t ask for help,” she said. “And I don’t need it.”

Mira opened her mouth. “I just thought—”
“I don’t care what you thought,” Kael cut in, her voice rising just enough to draw attention.

The market around them quieted slightly.
Not fully.
But enough.

“You,” she said, her gaze snapping toward Aerin, “if you have time to stand here and swing your arms around, then you have time to train somewhere useful.”

Aerin stiffened.

“And you,” Kael continued, turning back to Mira, “if you want to be helpful, start by staying out of my way.”

Mira’s expression fell.

Kael didn’t stop.

“I am not your team,” she said, her voice sharp, controlled, but carrying an edge that hadn’t been there before. “I am not your solution. And I am not responsible for what you decide to do with yourselves.”

The words hit harder than anything she had said before.

“Now leave,” she added. “Both of you.”

Silence followed.

Aerin hesitated.
Mira didn’t move.

“Go,” Kael said again.

This time—
They did.

Dain let out a low whistle once they were far enough.
“That was harsh,” he said.

Kael didn’t respond.

Lera studied her for a moment longer than usual.
“You’re thinking too much,” she said quietly.

Kael’s hands paused for just a second.
Then continued.

The rest of the day passed without interruption.
Without noise.
Without them.

And somehow—
That made it worse.

By evening, Kael closed her stall without a word and headed toward the guild again.
No footsteps followed her this time.
No voices called out.
No one lingered at her side.

The absence was noticeable.

The walk felt longer.

Inside the guild, nothing had changed.
The same structure.
The same order.
The same distance.

She approached the desk.
The clerk looked up.
Recognition came instantly.

“No new information,” he said before she spoke.

Kael nodded once.
Expected.

She didn’t ask anything else.
Didn’t push.
Didn’t linger.

She turned to leave.

And then—

Her gaze shifted.

The registration desk.

It stood off to the side, quieter than the rest, where new climbers began their process—names recorded, tests assigned, futures redirected.

Kael stopped.

Just for a moment.

“…If you go,” a voice said carefully from behind, “I’m coming.”

Kael didn’t flinch.

She didn’t turn immediately either.

Of course he was there.

Aerin.

He had kept his distance this time.
Watched instead of followed.

Kael glanced over her shoulder briefly, her expression unreadable.

She didn’t answer.

She didn’t need to.

She turned fully and began walking toward the exit.

Then, without stopping, she spoke.

“Train properly.”

Aerin straightened instinctively.

“Don’t slack,” she continued. “And tell that little hamster to train as well.”

There was a pause.

Kael’s hand brushed lightly against her pocket.
The shard pulsed faintly.

“Or our team is going to be the weakest.”

She didn’t look back.

She left the guild.

Aerin didn’t move.

Not at first.

The words settled slowly.
Carefully.

Then all at once.

“…Team,” he repeated under his breath.

His eyes widened slightly.

And then—
He smiled.

Not small.
Not uncertain.

Bright.

By the time he stepped outside, his pace had already quickened.

Mira was waiting.
Of course she was.

“What happened?” she asked immediately.

Aerin didn’t answer right away.
He just looked at her.
Then grinned.

“We’re climbing,” he said.

Mira blinked.
“…What?”

Aerin laughed lightly, still processing it himself.
“She agreed,” he said. “Not directly. But she did.”

Mira stared at him for a second longer.
Then the meaning caught up.

Her expression lit up.

“Really?”

Aerin nodded.

“She said to train,” he added. “Both of us.”

Mira didn’t hesitate.

“Then we train,” she said.

Simple.
Certain.

Because for both of them—
That was all they needed.

And for Kael—
The decision had already been made.

Even if she hadn’t said it outright.

End of Chapter 23