Chapter 149: Ivy’s Day

Astrid Vale

"You’ve spent enough time being watched over by those two," Ivy announced over breakfast, pointing her fork at me like a judge delivering a verdict. "Today belongs to us."

"I’m not doing anything dangerous," I protested.

"That’s exactly the problem. You need a day where nothing important happens at all."

Reed and Xander exchanged a glance across the table, and Reed cleared his throat. "Stay somewhere populated," he said. "And keep your phone charged."

"And if anything feels off, even slightly," Xander added, "you call one of us immediately."

Ivy stared at them both. "You two sound like overprotective parents dropping their kid off at summer camp."

"We’re just being cautious," Reed said.

"She’s going to a student market, not a war zone."

I laughed, grateful for the interruption before either of them could add more instructions, and let Ivy drag me out the door before the twins could think of anything else to worry about.

Walking through the academy grounds felt different that morning, easier somehow, the weight I usually carried loosening with every step further from the apartment. Students rushed past us toward morning classes, complaining about assignments, laughing over something one of them had heard, a couple arguing quietly near the fountain about plans for the weekend. A club table advertised some upcoming event with flyers nobody seemed particularly interested in reading.

Life had simply continued while I’d been gone. It struck me all over again, watching everything unfold around us exactly as it had before Elaris, exactly as it probably would have continued regardless of whether I’d ever come back at all.

"You’re staring," Ivy said.

"It’s strange," I admitted. "Seeing everything so normal."

"Get used to normal," she said. "We’re overdosing on it today."

The student market sat near the edge of campus, stalls crowded together selling everything from questionable snacks to handmade jewelry nobody actually needed. Ivy insisted I try something described only as a spiced fruit skewer, and the moment I bit into it, my whole face contorted.

"That’s disgusting."

"It’s an acquired taste."

"It tastes like betrayal."

She laughed so hard she nearly dropped her own, and we spent the next twenty minutes sampling increasingly questionable food, most of it terrible, one surprisingly delicious pastry that we ended up buying three more of before finally moving on.

At another stall, Ivy held up a bright pink scarf covered in tiny embroidered stars. "You’re wearing this."

"Absolutely not."

"Absolutely yes." She was already wrapping it around my neck before I could properly object, and when I caught my reflection in a nearby shop window, something about the ridiculousness of it made me laugh despite myself.

"I actually kind of love it," I admitted.

"See? Trust me more often."

I bought it, not because I needed it, not because it served any purpose beyond the fact that I genuinely wanted it, and something about that small, unnecessary indulgence felt more significant than it probably should have. We took pictures after that, ridiculous ones, Ivy pulling faces while I tried and failed to look serious, both of us dissolving into laughter every time we checked the results.

The mood shifted slightly as we sat down later, sharing one of the actually decent pastries between us. "What do you actually remember?" Ivy asked. "From down there. You’ve never really told me the details."

I thought about how to answer that, and found myself talking about Liora instead of the parts that still made my chest tighten uncomfortably. "She asked me constant questions," I said. "About rain, about clouds, whether the ocean really stretched farther than you could see. She’d never experienced any of it herself, and she wanted to know everything at once."

"She sounds wonderful," Ivy said softly.

"She was." I smiled, remembering her delight over stars she’d only ever seen in drawings, her stubborn insistence that a particular pastry was a delicacy despite how awful it actually tasted. "She would have loved today, honestly. The market, the ridiculous food, all of it."

Ivy reached over and squeezed my hand, and we sat there for a moment, letting Liora’s memory settle between us without it turning heavy or unbearable.

"Are you actually okay?" Ivy asked eventually, her voice quieter now, more serious than it had been all day.

I considered the question honestly instead of brushing it aside. "Not completely," I admitted. "Sometimes I still expect to wake up underground. Silence makes me nervous sometimes, more than it used to. I still think about the altar more than I want to." I paused, letting the rest of it settle before continuing. "But I’m also happy. Genuinely happy. I’m happy to be home. Happy you’re alive and sitting right here with me. Happy Reed and Xander are still there when I need them. I think I’m starting to feel like myself again."

Ivy’s eyes softened. "You don’t have to get over any of it on anyone else’s timeline," she said. "You’re allowed to remember Liora and still laugh today. You’re allowed to be angry about what happened and still enjoy this pastry. None of that means you’ve forgotten anything."

"When did you get so wise?" I asked, only half teasing.

"I’ve always been wise. You’ve just been too busy being kidnapped to notice."

I laughed, and something in my chest eased further, grateful beyond words for a friend who understood exactly how to hold space for both grief and joy without forcing either one to disappear for the other’s sake.

We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering aimlessly, buying things neither of us needed, taking more pictures than either of us would ever look at again, and by the time we finally made our way back toward the apartment, my arms were full of bags containing nothing particularly useful and everything I’d genuinely wanted.

Reed and Xander were waiting when we walked in, and Xander’s eyes immediately went to the bags. "What did you buy?"

"None of your business," Ivy said, sweeping past him toward the kitchen.

"Astrid?"

"She’s right. None of your business."

"You two are terrible," he said, though he was grinning as he said it, following us toward the kitchen anyway, clearly hoping persistence might eventually reveal our secrets.

I set my bags down, pulling out the ridiculous star-covered scarf and wrapping it around my neck again just to watch Xander’s expression shift into confused amusement.

"That’s what you bought?"

"Among other things."

"It’s terrible."

"It’s perfect," I said, and meant it completely.

Reed watched from across the room, something quiet and content settled into his expression as he took in the scene, Ivy still refusing to explain our purchases, Xander pretending to be personally offended by the scarf, me laughing harder than I had in longer than I wanted to admit.

For once, nothing terrible happened at all.