The Heir of Night

3

After Theia had placed the money on the counter, Nyx had been swallowed by the crowd and she didn't see him for the rest of the night. When her shift ended, she pulled on her coat and bid goodnight to Elena.

"Do you want me to walk you home?" Elena called out from somewhere behind the bar.

"No, Elena. I'll be fine!" It was the same every night for years. When they locked the door, they parted ways and Theia began trudging through the back alley. She felt lighter without that horrid amount of pity money in her pocket. As much as she would've wanted those coins, she never wanted someone to put it in her pocket. She has always worked for what she received, never accepting handouts. Maybe it was pride, or the sense of responsibility to provide for her mother, but Theia was satisfied with her few coins paid to her at the end of each month.

In the cloudy night, Theia kept her ears open for the drunken chatter around the streets. Whenever she found one's voice too close, she'd turn down another street. It'd be safer in the sky, but she hadn't flown since she was a child and didn't wish to do so unless necessary.

Theia bit her lip as she gazed up at the hazy moonlight. Few figures were in the sky tonight, and a part of her wanted to join them. She hadn't flown since the night she flew over the training field and was hit with an arrow by the males training below. She had fallen from the sky, reaching up and grasping at tendrils of fog, and hit the ground hard enough to shatter her arm and the spine of one wing. It had cost her far too much for a healer, and the height was not desirable anymore.

Theia turned onto the forgotten road, kicking up dirt and snow. The small pang of anxiety in her stomach had turned her eyes from the sky to the ground. It was safe. Walking was safe.

"Theia?"

She went rigid, boot slipping on the snow mid-step. Throat running dry, her eyes turned to the moonlight. A figure was above her, wings holding them in place. The glimmer of moonlight against buttons and metallic threading was evident.

"Nyx." His name left her lips in a heavy breath. He lowered himself to the ground in front of her. Anxiety spiked in her middle again. He was far too close to her home, and she would have no reason to be out here unless she was heading to a destination no one else seemed to want.

"What are you doing walking out here? It's late, you should be getting home." There it was, the polite tone in his voice. He used it so often while holding a look of mischief in his eyes, Theia was sure it was a ruse. Her eyes darted to her home at the bottom of the hill, dark and waiting. Her mother was in there, in need of a bath and surely freezing.

"I- I'm out for a walk," she explained, cringing at the obvious comment. She wanted him gone.

"Can I walk you home? Or fly with you?" He stepped closer, and years of being a female in this village had her mindlessly stepping back. He may have good intentions, but her soul didn't trust the males in that camp. He seemed to notice because snow crunched under his boot as he took a careful retreating step.

Her throat worked on a swallow as her eyes trailed to her home. "I'd prefer not."

"I'd feel much better knowing you got home safely," Nyx responded. Theia watched as his arms crossed over his chest, her eyes narrowing on his finely made coat. What was he trying? To show his care for her after she scolded him for being wealthy?

"I'd feel much better if you didn't know where I live, male," she spat, turning on her heels to march back into town. She'd circle this entire village until he was gone. Unfortunately, that didn't seem like it would be anytime soon. His footsteps were hurried behind her.

"What is your problem? I'm trying to do something nice for you!"

"Not everyone wants you to do things for them, Nyx. Go back to your damned camp before you get punished for being out late." Nyx scoffed, as if her assumption was entirely preposterous.