Lily

Fews day pass, i started to like this place and more this village,now i spend more time in village with people.the children's laughter filled the air as they ran around me, their giggles infectious. It felt almost surreal, this peace, this joy that I hadn't realized I'd been craving. For once, I forgot about the heaviness that had been pressing on my heart since I'd arrived here. I was just... happy.

I had settled into a rhythm-playing games with the children, helping with little tasks around the village, blending into the everyday life as though I had always belonged. The village had become my escape, but there was always that soft ache of missing my family, my old life. I couldn't help it homesickness. But here, I had found something else-something that made me wonder if I could belong here, too. This place, like a dream I didn't want to wake from.

Right now, I was in the middle of a circle of little ones, their small faces alight with excitement, their energy boundless. I had long since stopped being an outsider to them. They didn't know my true identity, and I didn't feel the need to tell them. Here, I was just Lily, the girl who played with them, who laughed with them.

But my heart couldn't help but skip a beat when my eyes found him.

Callan was standing off to the side, a quiet observer. Even with the busy work of leadership surrounding him, he always seemed to find a moment to check on me, his gaze steady and warm. I could feel it on me even when I wasn't looking. The intensity of his attention, the way it made my stomach flutter in ways I couldn't explain.

I smiled, feeling playful, and waved at him, unable to keep the grin from my face.

His lips quirked up into a grin that made my heart squeeze. He raised his hand in a slow wave, acknowledging me in that way of his-like he had all the time in the world just to notice me. It made me feel... seen.

A tug at my sleeve pulled me back into the moment. I turned to find one of the boys, his wide, eager eyes locked on me.

"Look! Look what I have!" His voice was an excited whisper, like it was a secret only I was meant to know.

I bent down, my curiosity piqued. "What do you have to show me?" I asked, smiling down at the tiny figure in his hand.

His grin was as bright as the sun, his little fingers holding up a wooden figurine. It was small, intricately carved, and looked like a warrior in mid-battle, with a large sword in hand. "It's a warrior, like our great leader Callan!" he said, practically beaming with pride. "See, he has a big sword and everything!" The boy demonstrated, making the figurine chop the air.

I glanced over at Callan. His presence was like a force that couldn't be ignored, even from a distance. "Yes, he is great and kind," I said softly, my gaze lingering on him for just a moment. "Too perfect..."

A flicker of something-pride, maybe-crossed Callan's face as he watched the exchange. But then the boy, clearly thrilled by the attention, looked up at him, his wide eyes gleaming with innocence.

"Callan, she says you're kind!" the boy announced, his voice ringing out.

Callan's smile deepened, his gaze flicking to me before softening. He started walking toward us, his long strides purposeful, his eyes never leaving mine. When he reached us, he crouched down beside me, lowering himself to our level. "And what else does she say?" he asked, his voice low, playful.

The boy tilted his head, trying to remember. "She said... she said you're too perfect!" he declared, his words making me flush with embarrassment. His innocent giggles followed as he glanced back at me.

Callan's gaze snapped back to mine, his eyes softening in a way that made my chest tighten. There was warmth in his smile, but there was also something else-something deeper. "Is that so?" His voice was lower now, a touch more intense, as though the boy's words had struck a chord with him.

A blush crept up my neck, and I coughed, pretending to brush dust from my shirt. "As a leader," I said quickly, unable to look directly at him, "I meant, you know, perfect as a leader."

Callan chuckled softly, the sound like a low hum that vibrated through my bones. His eyes crinkled at the corners, and there was something undeniably tender in the way he looked at me. "And what about as a man, Lily?" he asked quietly, his tone shifting, the question now personal, intimate.

My breath hitched, and I looked away, hoping the children wouldn't notice the unmistakable flush that crept up my cheeks.

Before I could respond, the little boy tugged at my sleeve again, clearly growing impatient with our grown-up conversation. "Are you two going to mate now?" he asked, his face earnest and innocent.

The words hung in the air for a beat. I clapped a hand to my mouth, laughter spilling out before I could help myself. Callan coughed, then ruffled the boy's hair with a grin. "No, no, little one. That's something adults do in private."

My cheeks burned, and I felt my heartbeat in my throat. "Right," I said, my voice almost a whisper as I finally risked a glance his way. His face was flushed too, his eyes warm and intense.

The boy blinked up at him, unimpressed, before darting off to join his friends. I stood there, utterly flustered, my pulse racing, my thoughts in a whirl. I couldn't even look at Callan, my face burning with embarrassment as I turned away, unable to make eye contact.

Callan was still watching me. He took a step closer, his voice dropping, softer now, as if trying to soothe me. "Lily," he said, his tone gentle, "I'm sorry if he embarrassed you. He's just a child. He doesn't know any better."

I could barely meet his gaze, the words caught in my throat. "I'm fine," I muttered, though I wasn't sure I believed it myself. My heart was still hammering in my chest.

He didn't push me, just stood there for a moment, his presence grounding. When I finally looked up, he was smiling at me, but there was something more in his gaze now-something unreadable.

The silence stretched between us, thick with the weight of unspoken things. It was a silence that held both the promise of something more and the pull of uncertainty. And yet, in that moment, despite the awkwardness, despite the confusion swirling inside me, I felt... connected to him. Like I was on the verge of something I couldn't quite define.

Then Callan broke the quiet with a low chuckle, a twinkle of mischief returning to his eyes. "Later tonight," he said, his tone shifting back to something lighter, "there's a festival. I'd like for you to join me."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A festival?"

His grin widened. "Yes, it's a celebration of the harvest. Music, food, dancing. You should come. It's one of the few times people from the village let their guard down. You might enjoy it."

I hesitated, the idea of spending more time with him both thrilling and terrifying.

"Alright," I said, my voice a little more certain than I felt. "I'll come."

He gave me a satisfied smile, his eyes warm with approval. "I'll see you then in village and village people will help you of your clothes and other things," he said, turning to leave, but not without one last lingering glance at me.

I watched him walk away, a flutter in my chest and my mind spinning. Whatever this was between us, it was far from simple.

**********************************

The night air was alive with the scent of roasting meats and sweet spices, and the village square was bustling with people laughing, dancing, and sharing stories. The girls had helped me get ready for the festival, each of them excited to show me their traditions. Bree, with her infectious laugh and mischievous grin, was leading the way, and I couldn't help but feel drawn to her carefree energy. She was everything I wanted to be in this strange new world-free, unburdened, and full of life.

We roamed together through the crowd, the women pointing out food stalls and booths with handmade crafts. Everyone was wearing vibrant dresses-rich blues, fiery reds, and soft pinks-but my dress was different. The deep forest green fabric felt like a second skin, soft and flowing. Silver threads wound through it in patterns of leaves and stars, and the sash at my waist jingled faintly with tiny charms. They'd braided wildflowers into my hair, the colors bright against the dark strands. It was earthy, almost magical, as though I was woven into the very fabric of this place.

After we walked And then, in the middle of a shared joke, my gaze drifted across the crowd. There, standing just at the edge of the light, was Callan. Even in the dim glow of the festival, he stood out-tall, strong, and effortlessly handsome. My heart skipped a beat, just as it always did when I looked at him.

He caught my eye and, for a fleeting moment. A smile tugged at my lips without thinking. I chuckled to myself, shaking my head. I couldn't quite shake the feeling that, no matter how much I was beginning to belong here, he was always the one who stood out the most.