I Put a Spell on You

I Put a Spell on You
Pt. 1 – Components: A pinch of ash & snakeskin

‘Why am I doing this again?’ thought the one person awake in a ten-foot radius.

Then again, ‘radius’ was being generous. She looked down the long line of archers sleeping against the narrow battlement. Together she and the men were currently perched on the highest wall surrounding the castle. On this side, there were no defenses, either natural or man-made. From this point, she could see miles of blank countryside, dotted only by the occasional fence, tree, or soldier. No, not soldier, but an army.

Before her lied the strongest and fastest soldiers that King Braba could muster in a short amount of time. The castle she defended was the last stronghold standing between the king and his conquest of this country. When he made the trek to the southern countryside, he had not expected this castle of simple people leading simple lives to withstand his army. But a small and weary troupe of adventurers had found shelter within these walls just days before the siege. Now the travelers were trapped within the walls of Sundown’s Keep, and they had vowed to protect it with their lives.

“Are you lost in your thoughts?” spoke a soft voice beside her.

Milana’s pointed ears perked at the sound. She did not turn away from the army’s camp, but nodded her answer to her magical friend. “I fear our leader may have sent us to our deaths this time.”

Nwen shared her friend’s concern. She had been privy to their leader’s lust for battle and adventure, and many moons later, that had not lessened. But this time was not his fault. They were only going to stay one night, then move onto the coast. Boats waited for them there, waited to take them back to their individual homelands. They were finally going to settle down and lead normal lives, away from the dangers that they found so normal in the past. But they were not prepared for what was to come.

When Braba’s army descended after their arrival, Milana and Nwen had turned the moat into a river of flame. Some of the townspeople had snuck away from the sight of the army and filled it with thick oil. When the army attempted its first advance, Milana drew a simple arrow that was forged with an explosive spell. Upon striking the oil-slicked water, the spell was released, and flames spread along the ditch. However, the magical flames were now dying, meant only to last for three short days.

In that time, they had discovered that there was no way out. The people who had helped with the moat were later tied to poles outside the main gate, and their stomachs cut open from side-to-side. Shortly after that, the general and two soldiers came forward to speak to the castle’s leaders about an unconditional surrender. Unfortunately the castle was merely an outpost for travelers and peddlers with a minimal amount of soldiers and a mayor to keep things in order. So their teammates and the mayor met the men, and negotiated a conditional surrender. The condition was the women and children escaped to the coast where neighboring villages would host them.

That was three days ago, and they were still waiting for the surrender. Now it was time to switch out the guards. Milana had been on the wall since daybreak, leaving only to take care of her natural body functions. She took another look at the hard-working men who served under her. With the women and children gone to safety, the men were more receptive to her hasty archery training. They understood their role as the castle’s first line of defense, and they desperately wanted to protect their home. But now it was time for rest, and Nwen was here to relieve her.

“Speaking of Renmain, why is he not here with you?” Nwen asked as both women walked away from the sleeping troops.

Milana had put him at the back of her mind. He had been very distant with her since they had made the decision to move back home. But even he knew it was time. She had watched as her human companions aged with each passing moon until the years showed visibly on their faces. She knew that she could carry on much longer than her mortal friends, but she didn’t want to do it alone. Her friends had meant the most to her through every adventure and mishap that befell them.

Milana closed her eyes and brushed a long black strand of hair behind her ear. She felt her way down through the thin line that connected Renmain and her together. She received a flash of red in return before he shut her out. “He’s in the central tower. It feels like he’s frustrated about something.”

The connection, another of their mistakes. Milana and Renmain had traveled together for only a short time when they came across the wizarding waif, Nwen. The poor girl was pale and malnourished, and a little worse for wear. The bastard child of an unholy union, it was very clear when she joined them that she had only recently come into her powers, and she did not fully understand what she was capable of.

After a particularly long day of travel, the three of them had checked in at some roadside inn, and then later met up at the bar for dinner. There was nothing else to do in the area, so the three of them started on the ale. Several mugs later, Nwen started to get personal and ask lots of questions about Milana and Renmain, particularly about the possible romantic link between the human and the elf. Much to Milana’s lament, Renmain started in with stories from their childhood, many of which were very embarrassing and not meant to be shared with anyone.

That’s when Nwen’s playful attempt at information gathering got physical. She started to hang onto Renmain, begging him to come upstairs with her. Milana had had enough youthful exuberance for the evening, and knew the group needed to get an early start, so she decided to leave the two of them alone and go to her own room. As she tried to walk away, Nwen kept a one-handed grip on Renmain, and grabbed Milana to keep her from leaving. That’s when Nwen’s hands began to glow, and everything went dark.

The next morning, Milana woke up in a room similar to hers, but the sun was glowing from the east and she knew her room faced the west. However she couldn’t move because a large arm was draped across her back. She turned to see in whose bed she laid, only to find Renmain’s shocked stare looking back at her. For two weeks, neither of them spoke a word about that night. In fact, neither of them actually remembered what could have happened. And Nwen was no help. She had no idea what she had cast.

In the coming weeks, they learned what fate would befall them. Milana had stayed behind in one town to help with a young elf pregnant with a human’s child. Her family did not want their neighbors to know about the union, and Milana had given her word to keep the discretion a secret. Renmain and Nwen moved on ahead to the next town to look for work. The two had barely left town before Milana fell ill.

A short time later, Nwen returned in tears, stating that Renmain had suddenly taken ill, and she needed help to bring him back. She was able to rouse two young barbarians to follow her back to the woods where she had left him. When they arrived, Renmain was unconscious and barely breathing. Nwen swore the man was dead, until one of the barbarians found a pulse. As they got closer to the village, Renmain began to feel better. His color was coming back, and his breathing was normalizing. When the group arrived back at the elven home, Renmain was in full health, and Milana met them at the door.

With a trip to the local wizard, the two old friends discovered what Nwen’s rashness had done to them. They were now metaphysically connected, a binding spell of sorts as it was described. However, he wasn’t able to detect the exact spell that was cast, and without that knowledge or any information about the demon that had fathered her, there was no way to reverse it. Also, that meant they had no idea what it would do. They explained the sudden sickness, and he could only surmise that a close proximity to one another was important.

As time went on, other things started to happen. When they were separated for any length of time, emotions would slowly start to creep through the line, later followed by thoughts. The unwilling participants learned more about one another through their link than they had even known growing up together. Milana knew how happy Renmain was when he ate a fresh boar steak, how passionate he was when he fought for the downtrodden and oppressed. And she knew he felt a certain fondness towards her that she dared not acknowledge.

And through all of this, they had picked up another tag-a-long. One of the young barbarians, an immature warrior by the name of Bloodblade, had taken a liking to Nwen, and decided to follow. Nwen was happy with the attention, and Renmain was glad to balance out his moody teammates.

At the thought of the warrior, Bloodblade came through the entryway of the guard’s tower. He was over six-foot tall and thick with muscles, and Renmain had trained that hard body in more forms of combat than she could name. He was deadly in many ways, and had no problem dealing death with anything from a sword to a sling. But he wasn’t dressed for combat tonight, opting instead for his comfortable plain clothes. Since they had set up the guard rotation, he had decided to stay with Nwen throughout the evening. The army down below had no idea what would happen if they made her use her powers while the sun was down.

Milana shivered suddenly. The link was open again, and Renmain’s frustration was pouring through it like a sieve. Milana gripped her bow tighter in her hand, causing its dark flames to grow and curl around her wrist.

“Stop that!” Nwen whispered. She grabbed Milana by the arms in hopes of calming her down. “You know that Cauldera responds to your emotions, and now is not the time to activate its powers.”

Because one bane was not enough for someone’s already exciting life, Milana had caught the fancy of that demonic piece of equipment. Though, originally it was simply a bow. But it was another one of Nwen’s ‘in the heat of battle’ spell decisions. Rather than vanquishing the demon, she’d cast a spell that trapped the demon within the bow instead. They had tried to destroy it with fire, drown it with water, even threw it into an abyss. But each morning when Milana awoke, there would be the bow, lying on the ground next to her.

Milana was too tired to deal with either of the conflicting personalities this evening, so she shut down Renmain’s emotions to the best of her ability and released her grip on Cauldera.

“There, isn’t that better?” Nwen asked as she started to stroke Milana’s arms.

“I just need some rest, that’s all. It’s tiring standing on this wall all day, waiting for them to make the first move.”

“And we weren’t expecting to have to do this again,” said Bloodblade as he approached.

None of them could deny that statement. Milana watched as a smile lit up Nwen’s face. The poor girl had had less reason to smile in recent months. As she had reached her thirtieth year, her father’s heritage started to show its physical aspects. Her skin had remained ashen, but her hair and eyes started to change to a dark and bloody red. Her body was branded with dark symbols, covering every part of her but her face. These symbols were part of her magic, and though branded into her skin, they still moved into a variety of formations based on the spell that Nwen wanted to cast.

And through it all, Bloodblade stood beside her. He consoled her when people ran from her appearance, and he held her as more markings burned into her skin. She was the reason that he was a part of this family, and he’d be damned if he would leave her when she needed him the most.

Bloodblade put his large hand on Milana’s shoulder, drawing her attention back to the real world. “There is dinner for you in the tower, and they have prepared a room for you to sleep in.”

Milana was grateful, but Nwen was troubled. “No, you are not sleeping in the tower! There is a perfectly good bed waiting for you at the inn!”

Milana jumped forward to cover the wizard’s mouth. “Shh! You will wake my men,” she whispered. “I will be fine, just don’t start any trouble without me.”

“No you won’t!” she said in a muffled voice behind Milana’s hand. “The longer you’re away from Ren, the more drained you’ll be. It’s been three days already!”

Milana wasn’t having it. “I’m not entertaining the enemy with this anymore tonight. Good night, you two.”

Milana hastily turned away and made her retreat before Nwen could continue the debate. She was sure that there were always scouts watching the wall, and the last thing they needed was the troops to learn how to take out two of the castle’s offensive leaders with one hit.

A chilly breeze whipped around Milana as she carefully maneuvered her way to the tower. She could feel it all the way through her leather armor, and for the first time in years, a hint of fear crept along her skin. Inside, she knew this fight was over before it ever began. There were not enough people to defend these walls, much less to make a first attack on the enemy. There was not enough food to feed everyone for a long siege. And the enemy army made sure there were no routes of escape from the castle. They were all living on borrowed time.

As she entered through the wooden door and ascended the stairs to the topmost room, she felt a measure of tension release from her body. It seemed that the link was quiet now, meaning Renmain was calm. She was grateful for that because the bow’s flames started to lick at her hand again as she tried to set it outside the door.

“It’s all right,” she whispered as she rested it against the wall. “I’m sure there will be war tomorrow, and you will perform wonderfully. But right now, I need to rest, as do you.”

As she let go, the flames disappeared, and the bow went back to looking like a normal wooden weapon. Milana pushed through the door, and was instantly thankful for the darkness. She could smell the bread and meat on the small table, but she had one singular goal of making it to the bunk bed and drifting into a peaceful slumber. She was almost to the bed when she heard the flick of a match behind her, and the room was lit with a warm glow. So, that’s why the link was quiet, and Cauldera was aggravated.

“If you’re not going to eat this, there are plenty of men on the wall who would enjoy the meal,” said a familiar masculine voice.

Milana snorted as she started to remove her armor. “The way I see it, the food would be wasted on the dead.”

This was the one night that she didn’t want to argue, and here was the protagonist just poking at her bleeding heart. Milana propped one foot on the edge of the bunk bed, and worked to remove her boot. She tried to ignore the fact that he was in the room, but his presence was always too large for her to disregard. So she waited for Renmain to speak. He always had a counter for her jabs.

“So, you agree that we will die within these walls,” he said solemnly.

She turned to him, his words striking a chord within her mind. There was a tone in his voice that she was unfamiliar with, sadness. She had never heard such defeat in his voice before, and it only confirmed the frustrations that she felt coming from him earlier. For once, the two of them were in agreement. This castle would be their grave.

“I’ve poured over the castle’s prints all afternoon,” he said as he started to pace the floor behind her. Milana watched her oldest friend in what could be his darkest hour. He deserved her undivided attention.

That was her favorite thing about humans; you could always read their emotions on their faces. Though with Ren, it was different. His one visible eye (the other lost many years ago) was staring out the window. In the candle’s light, shadows played across his thick jaw, and she could see the age lines stretching across his youthful face. His summer tan looked even darker in the flickering light. When he turned his face back to her, the sorrow was very apparent.

“We are completely surrounded. There is no means of escape, and the longer we stay, the less chance of survival these people have. I believe surrender may be the only option.”

Milana understood the regret in his voice. He…no, they were going to let these people down. They would lose their homes, but they would leave with their lives. However, a similar fate did not await her friends.

“If we give up this castle, we will still be put to death,” Milana said rationally as she approached the table to break off a piece of bread. “Braba has bounties out for all of us. The only one he would accept alive is Nwen, and I’ll be damned if I turn her powers over to him.”

Renmain knew this all too well. If they fought, there was a good chance that the villagers would die. But if they stepped aside and let the invading force take over, then he and his companions would surely perish. There was no win in this situation, and Milana could only watch as he mentally accepted their defeat. Renmain leaned against the wall, and slid to the floor in exhaustion. He was crumbling before her, collapsing under the pressure of his rash decision.

Milana moved to his side. She sat down next to him, situating herself so she could face him directly. She wasn’t used to consoling anyone other than Nwen, and this was a definite first with Renmain. Her elven sensibilities were just not attuned to a human’s emotional needs. But for her friend, she would certainly make the effort to help him.

“Renmain, you have done nothing wrong,” she whispered as she placed a comforting hand on his face. She had seen Nwen make the same gesture to Bloodblade once. “It was by chance that we came here. You couldn’t have known an army was heading in this direction.”

Renmain looked up at the woman before him. Even weary and battle-worn, she was still beautiful. She was hardly aged compared to him. Where her long black mane still held all of its color, his had slowly changed from a rich dark brown to a pale shade of gray. There were no lines on her face, and her skin was still soft. The only place he could see her age was in her deep green eyes, dark with wisdom and hardened by loss.

“Tell me, esteemed one, what would have done differently?” he asked with a disheartened chuckle.

Milana thought for a moment about her response. After spending so many years on the road with a troupe of humans, would her decision have been any different from his?

“I think…I would have been at the coast two days ago,” she said as she got up from the floor. Milana wiped the dust from the bottom of her breeches as she walked back to the bunk bed. “Remember? I was the one so eager to go home that I was willing to keep moving through the night. But, that option has slipped by.”

Milana lay back on the hay mattress. She felt bad for using the bed because her men were sleeping on stone tonight. She didn’t believe that she should have any better, and she had argued that point with them. But they had explained about how thankful they were for her training, and that all they could offer in return was a hot meal and a bed to sleep in. She couldn’t say no to their pleading faces.

She could hear Renmain rise again. At his full height, he was a whole head and shoulders taller than her. She watched as his long, elegant arms shed his leather coat and revealed the lean muscle underneath.

“I’ll take the top,” he said as he stopped before her. “I can’t leave you here alone knowing there are fifty men on that wall, and only two women in the entire castle.”

Milana almost laughed at his absurd comment. “So, that’s why Bloodblade refuses to leave Nwen’s side. How noble of the two of you.”

Renmain lifted himself to the top bunk. Unfortunately he was too tall for the normal sized bed, so his feet dangled far enough over the edge that Milana could see them.

“He does it because he loves her,” Renmain said as he adjusted his position on the bed, trying hard not to shake it too much as he rolled over to face the wall. “Hey, can you do something about the light?”

Milana looked to her right and saw the candle still lit. Throwing off the covers, she sat up and punched the top bunk before getting up. With one breath, the room was in complete darkness again.

She flopped on the bed, hard enough this time to shake the whole frame. It was childish, but Renmain would understand her displeasure. Before she could get comfortable, she grabbed the waistband of her breeches, and pulled them down her slender legs and used her foot to drop them carefully onto the floor. She also removed her loose shirt and added it to the pile. It was rare she got to follow her wild nature, and she found in sleep was the one place where her body needed a sense of freedom and not the constant entanglement of clothing. And she had been with Renmain long enough to know he was a complete gentleman.

When her head hit the pillow again, she said, “Such an archaic human emotion. Who has time for frivolity when we’re always provoking death?”

A thick and unrelenting silence filled the room. Milana figured Renmain was already drifting into sleep, so she rolled over and slid deeper into the covers, beckoning the darkness to take her somewhere safe.

Suddenly the bunk beds shook, and Milana’s ears perked as she heard Renmain’s large feet hit the floor behind her. She tried to lie still, assuming he was leaving because he was uncomfortable with the short bed.

Instead, massive arms scooped her up, blanket and all, and cradled her against his broad chest. Carrying his bundle across the dark room, he yanked the door open and ascended the stairs to the top of the tower. As he pushed open the wooden door at the top, the night’s wind quickly whipped around Milana and her half-covered body, and she fought to keep a hold of the blanket and her dignity. Renmain knew that at this height, even the scouts could not see in the complete darkness, so they could have an uninterrupted conversation.

“What is the meaning of this?” she said.

Renmain set her gently on the stone floor, careful of her bare feet. Milana pushed away from him, and quickly adjusted the blanket around her bare flesh.

“Ren, what is wrong with you?” Milana asked, tired of his games and getting more frustrated that she was taken away from her chance of sleep.

Renmain turned away from her, deciding to move to the opposite end of the parapet and out of her grasping reach. He knew that when her temper flared, he had to treat her like a cornered animal. No amount of human exposure could tame the wilderness that still flowed in her veins. The only consolation he had at this point was the tower was too high for her to take one of her daring leaps over the edge.

As he stared into her eyes, Renmain could feel his resolve waning. But if he didn’t do this now, he knew another chance would never come. Tomorrow could be their last day in this world, and there were things his companion needed to know about him.

Straightening up, he turned away from her intense gaze and said, “Do you ever wonder what happened that night so many years ago?”

Milana was floored with his question. This was the one subject that all of them agreed was taboo, so much so that Bloodblade knew absolutely nothing about it. Why would he bring it up now?

“No, I do not. What happened was never meant to happen, end of story.”

Her matter-of-fact tone told him she wanted to end this conversation now. But he was only scratching the surface. Turning back to her, he could see that Milana had wrapped the blanket around her slight body tighter, but the wind refused to obey her. The edge of the blanket still billowed away from her long legs, and toyed with her loose black hair, hair so dark it blended into the night sky.

“What were you planning to do when we returned to Coppern?”

Not easily dissuaded, Milana said, “Does it matter now? We are doomed to see only one more sunrise. Wishing for a future that may not come is a waste of energy at this point.”

Renmain wasn’t going to let her dodge the question so easily. “Your clan hall is empty, Milana. You are the last of your people. What is there for you besides dusty books and old memories?”

What did he want her to say? Milana did not understand why he was pressing the matter. “My reasons are of a personal nature that has nothing to do with you, Renmain,” she said with a tone of finality.

Renmain knew the elf had a strong will. Once her mind was made up, there was no breaking her resolve. Maybe there was more direct path to his goal, one she could not dance around with fancy words.

“I’m sorry,” he said, dropping his hands in defeat. “I know you are tired.”

Milana was immediately suspicious. The Renmain before her was not the friend she had known for over twenty years. This man was a stranger. This man was weak in the face of adversity, debilitated by fear and reality. This man was not able to lead them onto their final battlefield.

Still, something within her wanted to go to him. As she walked closer to him on her trek to the stairs, something maternal longed for her to hold him and tell him the world would still be there in the morning. Milana gripped the blanket tighter, refusing her body’s overwhelming need to coddle him like a scared child. She took one more look at him before she descended the stairs, and froze.

That’s when he grabbed her arm. That’s when he yanked her so hard their bodies collided together. In that moment, Milana dropped the blanket in shock, and felt for the first time the warrior that was Renmain.

One arm wrapped around her waist while the other snaked across her chest, brushing against her bare breasts. His hold was so tight that she could feel his arousal pressing into her back. Renmain’s head rested on her shoulder. She could feel his breath along her skin. Her body awakened at his dominance. Her flesh tingled as his hand moved down her chest to gently cradle her left breast. When his lips brushed the edge of her neck, her body’s natural reaction was to shiver. But her body was not marking him as a target, as was its normal response to surprise attacks. Her body knew him already. It recognized him as her mate.

“I’ve been doing a little research,” Renmain whispered, his breath sending more chills through Milana’s body. “It seems Nwen’s power comes from a place of flame and flesh, where her body is the main component of her spells. One touch from her can create something wonderful, or something disastrous.”

Inside her body was in turmoil, confused about its wants and needs, but her mind was clear. “What did she do to us?” she asked, her voice raspy with building lust.

Renmain’s hand grazed over her pert nipple again, and Milana moaned as a feeling unknown, but not unpleasant, was building in her stomach. The cool wind continued to blow across the tower, but Milana’s bare body did not feel it. She was warming under Renmain’s careful touch.

“It seems she revealed our underlying wants and desires by using her body as the catalyst,” Renmain muttered as he moved from nuzzling her neck to smelling her scent of wood and leather in her hair. “By doing so, our life forces are permanently fused together. Where one goes, the other must follow, or risk death by starvation and suffocation.”

Trying to keep her concentration, Milana turned around in Renmain’s arms. She needed to see his face. There was a truth about her people that humans did not know, and many were too capricious to understand. “Ren, it is not only our life force, but our physical bodies that are forever linked.”

Renmain watched her face. Milana rarely showed emotions, especially where others could see. But now, he could sense a feeling of worry coming from her that her eyes could not hide.

“Of course we would be physically linked,” he said, tipping her chin up so she wouldn’t look away.

“No, that’s not what I mean,” she said. The wind continued to blow harder around them. Milana backed away from Renmain, and retrieved her blanket to cover her bare skin from nature’s silent wrath.

“I’ve never told you the secrets of my people,” Milana said as she walked toward the stairs. She couldn’t bear to look at him in this moment, but she did beckon him to follow her. When she heard his footsteps echo behind her, she continued, “Ren, my people live for only one other person. My clan believed that when we are born into this world, we are only half of what we should be. Our duty was to find the other half, the half that completes who we are. And when they find one another, they are permanently mated in a grand ceremony. For my clan, it was always a celebration of life.

“As more of them died off from war and disease, there were fewer mates available. I left because there were no more mates, no more males to carry on our clan’s bloodlines. My other half was not there. I realized it was certain death if I stayed.”

They continued down the dark stairs in silence until they reached the main room below. Darkness still filled the space. There were no obstructions in the way, so Milana had no issue finding her way back to the bed. As she sat, she could feel Renmain in the room, could hear his breathing, but the closeness kept her from hearing his thoughts.

“Ren, I know what happened that night. My body knows what happened that night,” she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady. “When you touch me, my body is calm, my mind is quiet, and the world stops turning in that moment. There is no war, there are no monsters. There is only hope, respect...and I believe your human term is love.”

“Why?” he asked in a quiet, but closer voice. “Why did you not speak of this before?”

“It was irrational,” she said, “and forbidden.”

“I believe forbidden is not an issue any longer.”

Milana shook her head, even though she knew he could not see her. “It still is with other elven clans. I could not risk drawing their attention to us.”

“I’m not afraid of some elves.”

“Nor anything else,” she laughed, but it died quickly. “I think I was afraid. I thought if you knew, you would reject the possibility. I couldn’t be near you if you declined the offer, regardless of the spell.”

“Do you know what my plans were for when we arrived home?” Renmain asked, his voice closer still.

Milana sighed, “Does it matter now?”

“It does. I was going to ask for your hand in marriage.”

“Oh,” she whispered. Why did it have to end this way, under such dire circumstances? “Maybe I am becoming more like a human. I don’t understand this emotion. I have nothing to relate it to.”

A hand gently rested on her knee, but she did not jump. “So from what you’re telling me on what could be our last night in this realm, I could have been making love to you all these years?”

Relief flooded through her tense body. He would never reject her. He would stand between her and any army that dared to tear them apart. He would stand on top of this tower and shout his feelings for her to the soldiers waiting below. And on this last night, she believed he would love her until death stole the breaths from their chests and the souls from their bodies.

She smiled to herself. “Would you like to now?”

The hand on her knee pulled at the edge of the blanket, exposing her right leg. His other hand moved to expose her left leg. Together, they separated her legs, and she felt Renmain climb in between and wrap her legs around his waist. Milana grabbed at his solid arms to keep from falling backwards. Renmain wrapped his hand behind her neck, pulling her face closer to his.

“Do you really have to ask?” he said just before he kissed her.

His lips were so soft against hers, and when she opened her mouth to his begging tongue, she was glad to accept in all that he offered her. Together, they fell back against the bed, and she felt her heart beat faster in her chest as his hands slid down her body in a gentle caress. Milana languished in the attention of his tongue as her body absorbed the feel of his strong body pressed against her.

And in that moment of pure lust, Milana had an idea. Slapping Renmain’s shoulder, he backed away and gave her most peculiar look. “I think I know how to save us.”

Ren sighed as he pushed himself up on his arms. “Does it have to be now?”

Not sure where all this is going just yet. We'll just see where the inspiration takes me. Until next time, ja ne!