The sun clawed its way up, slow and mean, dragging a wet, orange heat over the road. Air so thick you could chew it—moist, heavy, sticking to your lungs like damp cloth. Sweat rolled down necks, pooled in collars, stung eyes. The road stretched out, a dusty scar cutting a week’s trek into a day, but time still crawled. Every breath was a fight, every step a slog. Everybody literally sweating their balls off.


    Except Aaron and his crew.


    Inside their carriage, a little box of genius whirred—Elyra’s work, one of her “smallest” tricks. Gears clinked like a heartbeat, spells sparked faint and blue, an ember stone glowing at its core. It sucked the heat out, puffed cold air back—crisp, almost alive. Aaron slouched against the wall, silver hair barely sticking to his skin, one hand resting on the device like it was a pet. He didn’t say much, just let the cool wash over him.


    Amelia sucked in a breath, grinning like she’d won something. “Gods, Aaron, this thing’s a miracle. Where’d you even snag it?” She kicked her boots up, leather creaking, her cheeks pink but dry.


    “Elyra owed me,” he muttered, eyes half-closed. “Thought it’d be useful.”


    Lucy snorted, sprawled across her bench, dagger twirling lazy in her hand. “Useful? Shit, it’s a throne. Look at ‘em out there—roasting like pigs.” Her smirk was sharp, smug, the kind that said ‘we’re better off and I like it.’


    Susi nodded, his whetstone still for once, thumb brushing its edge like a prayer. “Feels wrong, almost,” he said, voice low, but his sliced ears twitched less in the chill. “Not that I’m complaining.” A flicker of a smile—rare, small, human.


    Outside, the world wasn’t so kind. The other carriages rolled on, sluggish, their fancy paint peeling in the heat. The big one—gilded, noble, screaming ‘money’—might as well have been an oven. Inside, Tanya sat ramrod straight, armor off, linen tunic clinging to her like a second skin. Sweat traced her jaw, dripped down her neck. She flapped a paper fan—thin, useless, stirring hot air into hotter air. The window was cracked open, but it just let more damp in.


    Celina, next to her, looked like a drowned bird—robes soaked, hair sticking to her face. She waved her own fan, painted with waves that mocked her water magic. “Ugh,” she groaned, wiping her brow. “This is torture.”


    The little girl they’d pulled from the bandits—blonde, crimson-eyed, still shaky—tugged at her collar and whined, “Too hot. I hate it.” Her voice cracked, small and raw.


    Tanya’s fan slowed, her jaw tight. “. Indeed Lady Elizabeth, We’re all dying here.” She glanced out the window—forest blurring by, leaves sagging, air shimmering. ‘Even the damn trees are sweating.’


    Celina, desperate for anything but this misery, perked up. “Hey, last night—Gods, that duel. Amelia’s a freak yeah, but Aaron…” She shook her head, eyes wide. “What even ‘was’ that?”


    Tanya’s fan snapped shut. “Don’t.” Sharp, like a blade. Then softer, “Just… don’t.”


    The girl tilted her head, crimson eyes cutting through the haze. “But he beat you, right? With nothing? How?”


    Tanya laughed—short, brittle, like a bone snapping. “Yeah, he did.” She leaned back, wood groaning under her. “Kid’s a monster. Fast as hell, strong, technique so smooth, it looked like he was slicing butter.” Sweat slid down her temple, but her stare was hard. “I’ve been swinging a hammer since I could stand. They called me a prodigy—once-in-a-century, all that crap. But him…” She shook her head, fan crumpling in her fist.


    Celina frowned, fanning faster. “Maybe you were off? Tired from the rescue?”


    “No.” Flat, final. “He held back. I felt it—like he was playing with me.” Her voice dipped, low and rough. “Twelve, maybe thirteen years old, and he’s already…” She didn’t finish. Didn’t need to.


    The girl blinked, curious. “You mad at him?”


    Tanya’s lip twitched—a half-smile, jagged. “Mad? No. Pissed at myself, maybe.” She smoothed the fan out, fingers lingering on the creases. “I’ve clawed too far to let one loss gut me. I’m the warrior maiden, right?” She winked at the kid, but her eyes were storm-dark.


    Celina leaned in, voice soft. “You’re not quitting, are you?”


    Tanya’s gaze snapped up, fierce. “Never. I’ll train ‘til my bones break. Fight smarter. Next time, he’s mine to conquer.” She tapped her hammer, propped beside her, runes dull in the heat. “Got tricks he hasn’t seen.”


    The girl giggled, fanning herself. “You’ll get him. I know it.”


    “Yeah,” Tanya said, softer. “Maybe.” A real smile flickered, then faded.


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    “…..It’s stupid. ‘He’s’ stupid. You’re better, Lady Tanya. Stronger. Kinder. That brat shouldn’t have—” She stopped, fists clenching so tight her knuckles went white. “Shouldn’t have won.”


    Tanya sat across from her, fanning herself with a crumpled paper fan, the edges fraying where her fingers gripped too hard. “Lizzie,” she said, voice soft but stretched thin, “don’t fuss over it. He’s just a kid with a trick or two.” Her smile was a brittle thing, ready to crack. She glanced out the window—dust and haze and the endless road—and her mind slipped. Aaron’s shove. The ground slamming up. Her hammer slipping from her hand like she was nothing. She blinked it away, fast, and forced her grin wider. “Next time, I’ll knock that smirk off his face.”


    Celina, sprawled beside her, robes clinging like damp laundry, snorted. “Yeah, what she said. Probably cheated anyway—some sneaky little spell.” She flicked her wrist, mimicking a mage’s flourish, and grinned. “You’ll squash him flat, Tanya. Like a bug.”


    Elizabeth’s head snapped up, eyes blazing. “Yeah! Squash him! He’s mean and—and smug, and I hate him!” She kicked the carriage floor, a dull ‘thump’ swallowed by the creak of wood and the horses’ labored snorts.


    Tanya laughed—a short, sharp sound, like glass breaking. “Thanks, you two. Makes me feel better, hearing that.” She ruffled Elizabeth’s hair, damp strands tangling under her fingers. “He’s a cocky little shit, I’ll give you that.”


    But then—there. A whisper of cold slipped through the window, sharp against the thick, sticky air. Tanya froze, fan stilled mid-swipe. She leaned forward, squinting, then stuck her head out. The breeze hit her full-on—crisp, defiant, coming from ‘behind’. From ‘them’.


    “What in God’s name…?” she muttered, yanking the reins hard. The carriage lurched, horses whinnying, dust kicking up in a gritty cloud. She was out before it fully stopped, boots crunching dirt, marching toward Aaron’s crew like a storm rolling in.


    Elizabeth scrambled after her, tripping over her own feet. “Lady Tanya? What’s wrong?”


    Tanya didn’t answer. She could see them now—Aaron lounging like a king, silver hair glinting in the sun, that damn smirk still plastered on his face. Amelia beside him, wrapped in a sheet like it was winter, giggling. Lucy twirling her dagger, lazy and unbothered. Susi sharpening his blade, not a drop of sweat on him. The air around them shimmered cool, a slap in the face to the heat choking everything else.


    Tanya’s jaw tightened. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’


    Elizabeth saw it too. Her face went red—rage, not heat—and she bolted past Tanya, tiny fists swinging. “Hey! You—you cheats!” Her voice cracked, shrill and furious. “What foul magic is this? You’re all cool and happy while we’re ‘dying’ out here? How dare you!”


    Amelia’s giggle cut off, sheet slipping. Lucy’s dagger paused. Susi’s whetstone stilled. Aaron just tilted his head, smirking wider, like he’d been waiting for this.


    Tanya lunged, grabbing Elizabeth’s shoulder. “Lizzie, hold on. Let me—” She softened her voice, but her eyes were hard, locked on Aaron. “Let me talk.”


    Elizabeth huffed, stepping back, but her glare could’ve set the carriage on fire. “Fine,” she spat, crossing her arms.


    Tanya straightened, arms folding over her chest. “So. Mind telling me why your carriage feels like a damn icebox while we’re melting out here?”


    Aaron shrugged, casual as if he hadn’t just turned her world upside down—again. He tapped a small device beside him, gears clicking, a faint ember glow pulsing inside. “Cooling tool. Magic engineering’s finest. Keeps the heat off.” His smirk sharpened. “Pretty nice, huh?”


    “Nice?” Tanya’s laugh was a blade, short and cutting. “You’ve got a gods-damned oasis in here, and you didn’t think to say a word?”


    “Didn’t know I was your nursemaid, my lady.” Aaron leaned back, arms behind his head. “Figured you’d tough it out. You’re good at that.”


    Elizabeth’s face twisted. “You’re horrible!” She stomped her foot, dust puffing up. “Selfish! Mean! Lady Tanya saved me from bandits—real, nasty ones—and you just sit there laughing!”


    “Lizzie,” Tanya said, sharper this time, hand tightening on her shoulder. She shot Aaron a look—half-exasperated, half-amused, like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to punch him or laugh. “It’s fine. We’ll manage.”


    Aaron nodded, slow and smug. “Can’t help you, kid. This thing’s built for one carriage. Not a charity wagon.”


    Elizabeth opened her mouth—another yell brewing—but Tanya cut her off. “Let it go.” Her smile was tight, forced, a mask she’d worn too long. “Can’t be helped, right?”


    “Right,” Aaron said, leaning back again, like that settled it.


    Tanya turned, pulling Elizabeth along, the girl muttering curses under her breath—“stupid brat,” “foul magic,” “hope he trips”—and Tanya almost smiled for real. Almost


    Fifteen minutes later, Aaron was choking on his own damn words.


    The carriage door banged open, and there they were—Tanya striding in like she owned it, fan snapping open with a flick. Celina stumbled after her, already sighing like she’d found paradise. “Oh, Gods, this is ‘heaven’. Aaron, you’re a genius.”


    Elizabeth clambered up next, plopping down across from him, glaring like she’d burn a hole through his skull. But even she couldn’t hide the way her shoulders slumped, the cool air washing over her flushed face.


    And then—’Gods help him’—Henry ducked through the door, his bulk filling the space, a sheepish grin on his broad face. “Room for one more?” He settled next to Susi, who flinched like a cat in a rainstorm.


    Aaron’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt. “What in the actual fuck…”


    Tanya dropped onto the bench opposite him, fanning herself with that wrecked paper. “You said it—can’t help us. So we’re helping ourselves.” Her grin was all teeth, daring him to argue.


    Amelia bit her lip, stifling a laugh. “Guess we’ve got guests now.”


    “Great,” Lucy muttered, dagger spinning faster. “More mouths.”


    Susi just grunted, thumb tracing his whetstone like it’d save him from this nightmare.


    Henry chuckled, clapping Susi’s shoulder—too hard, judging by the wince. “Don’t fret, friend. We won’t stay long.”


    Aaron leaned back, arms crossed, staring at the ceiling like it might give him an out. ‘Should’ve kept my trap shut.’ But when his gaze flicked to Tanya, her eyes glinting with that same sharp amusement, he felt it—a grudging tug at his mouth. A smirk he couldn’t kill.


    The carriage rolled on, cool air humming through the cramped space, the world outside still roasting under that bastard sun. Inside, it was a mess—Aaron caught himself tapping his foot—stopped it fast. Too late. Tanya noticed, her grin twitching wider. He looked away, jaw tight, and thought, ‘This is gonna be a long damn ride.’