As they departed the coastal trade settlement beneath a pale gray morning sky.
The town behind them had only just begun waking when they stepped back onto the northern road, merchants still arranging market stalls while fishermen hauled dripping nets from the shoreline below the cliffs. Cold sea air swept through the streets in steady gusts strong enough to tug at cloaks and scatter loose parchment across the stone roads. Lyrica glanced back several times as they climbed away from the settlement, watching the distant harbor slowly shrink against the coastline while ships drifted across the water like dark specks beneath the dawn light. Strange as it felt, leaving no longer carried the same heaviness it once had. For the first time since departing the village, the road ahead felt less like exile and more like movement toward something unknown.
The path north followed the coastline for most of the morning, winding along steep cliffs overlooking the restless sea below. Waves crashed endlessly against jagged black stone while gulls circled overhead, their cries echoing across the rocky landscape around them. Unlike the quiet forest trails from earlier in their journey, these roads felt exposed to the world itself, with long stretches of open terrain offering little shelter from the wind or weather. Lyrica quickly realized traveling near the coast was far more exhausting than she expected. The constant incline burned through her legs while the heavy pack resting across her shoulders felt heavier with every passing mile.
Cade, meanwhile, moved through the rough terrain with frustrating ease.
Even carrying supplies, he walked with the same calm balance he always seemed to possess, carefully choosing stable footing across uneven ground without ever appearing rushed or tired. The years had clearly shaped him into someone who no longer thought about movement consciously. Everything he did looked practiced through repetition rather than effort. Lyrica found herself noticing that more and more lately, especially after learning fragments of the life he once lived. Every scar, every habit, every quiet glance toward the horizon seemed connected to experiences she still could barely imagine.
"You can loosen the upper straps a little," Cade said eventually without looking back. "Most of the weight should rest against your hips, not your shoulders."
Lyrica adjusted the pack with a tired sigh. "How do you even know all this?"
"Because carrying things wrong gets painful very quickly."
"That sounds suspiciously personal."
"It is."
The climb gradually became steeper as the road narrowed into rough stone pathways carved directly into the cliffs themselves. Grasslands gave way to jagged rock formations overlooking the ocean while loose gravel shifted dangerously beneath their boots during certain stretches of the ascent. Several times Lyrica nearly lost her footing trying to keep pace with Cade, though each time he slowed just enough for her to recover without openly acknowledging it. She noticed anyway.
By midday, they had climbed high enough for the coastline below to stretch endlessly across the horizon.
Lyrica stopped near the edge of a rocky overlook, breathing heavily while staring out across the sea beneath them. From this height, the trade settlement they had left behind looked impossibly small compared to the endless landscape surrounding it. Mountains rose faintly in the far distance beyond sprawling forests and rolling green hills while narrow trade roads wound across the countryside like faded lines scratched into the earth. Seeing the world from above like this made her old village feel smaller than ever before.
Cade rested nearby against a large stone outcrop while removing a water skin from his pack. "Rest for a few minutes," he said calmly. "But not too long."
Lyrica accepted the water gratefully before collapsing onto the grass beside him. "You know," she muttered between breaths, "normal people would probably take easier roads."
"Easier roads are usually crowded."
"That's still better than falling off a cliff."
Cade's eyes drifted briefly toward the narrow pathways behind them. "Crowded roads attract thieves. Soldiers. Desperate people." He took another drink before continuing. "The safest path isn't always the most comfortable one."
Lyrica shook her head slightly. "You always turn everything into some kind of lesson."
"Because most mistakes only need to happen once."
The wind howled softly across the cliffs around them after that, carrying the distant scent of saltwater and rain from somewhere farther north along the coastline. Lyrica quietly studied Cade while he scanned the horizon in silence, noticing once again how difficult it seemed for him to ever fully relax. Even resting, part of him remained alert. His eyes constantly moved across the landscape around them as though expecting danger to emerge from anywhere at any moment.
"You really don't know how to stop watching everything, do you?" she asked quietly.
For a moment, Cade said nothing.
Then he glanced toward her with an expression she could not fully read. "Back then," he answered slowly, "staying alert was the difference between seeing another sunrise or not." His gaze shifted back toward the horizon. "Soldiers learned quickly that the world doesn't wait for people to be ready."
Lyrica lowered her eyes slightly after hearing that.
She could tell he was not trying to frighten her. If anything, he sounded tired more than anything else. Tired of memories that never fully left him behind no matter how far he traveled from them. The realization made her chest ache in a way she could not quite explain.
After resting, they continued northward once more, though eventually Cade guided them away from the main coastal road entirely.
The safer trail curved lower along the cliffs toward a wide trade route clearly meant for wagons and ordinary travelers. Instead, Cade led them upward toward rougher terrain scattered with towering rock formations and narrow climbing paths cutting through the cliffs above. Lyrica stared upward at the steep ascent ahead with visible disbelief before slowly looking back toward him.
"You cannot seriously be taking us up there."
"It's faster."
"That looks deadly."
"It builds character."
"That sounds like something people say right before somebody dies."
A quiet laugh escaped Cade then, brief but genuine. "You'll be fine."
The climb that followed proved significantly harder than anything they had faced so far.
Loose rocks shifted beneath their boots while cold wind whipped violently across the cliffs around them, forcing Lyrica to carefully steady herself during every difficult stretch upward. Cade climbed ahead of her with practiced precision, occasionally stopping to show her where to place her footing or how to test unstable rocks before trusting her full weight against them. More than once he demonstrated easier ways to balance across narrow ledges, teaching her to move with the terrain rather than fighting against it directly.
"Strength matters less than balance," he explained while helping her across a difficult section of cliffside. "Most people exhaust themselves trying to overpower obstacles instead of understanding them."
"That sounds wise," Lyrica admitted between exhausted breaths.
"It is wise."
"It's still annoying."
Another small laugh escaped him.
Hours passed beneath the afternoon sun as they climbed steadily higher along the coastline. By the final stretch, Lyrica's arms and legs burned badly enough that every movement felt heavier than the last. Dirt covered her sleeves while loose strands of hair clung to her face from sweat and ocean mist alike. Cade noticed her slowing repeatedly but never told her to stop. Instead, he simply remained nearby whenever she struggled, giving guidance when necessary while still forcing her to overcome the difficult sections herself.
And somewhere during that exhausting climb, Lyrica slowly began understanding the real lesson beneath all of this.
He was not teaching her how to climb mountains.
He was teaching her how to endure them.
By late afternoon, the cliffs finally leveled into rolling grassy highlands overlooking the sea behind them. Lyrica dragged herself over the final rocky ledge before collapsing onto the grass entirely, breathing heavily while staring up at the pale sky overhead.
"That," she declared dramatically, "was awful."
Cade stood nearby adjusting the straps on his pack, though she caught the faintest trace of amusement lingering beneath his expression. "You made it."
"I think my legs stopped working halfway up."
"They'll recover."
"Are you secretly part mountain goat?"
"I'm considering it."
Despite herself, Lyrica laughed weakly while sitting upright again.
Then, as she brushed dirt from her sleeves, something in the distance immediately caught her attention.
A road.
A perfectly normal trade path curved gently around the opposite side of the cliffs only a short distance away, wide enough for wagons, horses, and ordinary travelers to cross comfortably without climbing a single dangerous rock face.
Lyrica stared at it silently for several long seconds.
Then very slowly turned toward Cade.
He suddenly looked extremely interested in the horizon.
"There was a trail," she said flatly.
"A different trail," Cade corrected calmly.
"We climbed an entire mountain."
"You climbed very well."
"There was a perfectly safe road."
Cade finally glanced toward her, the faintest smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "And yet here you are."
Lyrica narrowed her eyes while fighting the urge to laugh despite herself. "You absolutely did that on purpose."
"Maybe."
"You're unbelievable."
Still smirking faintly beneath his beard, Cade turned and continued walking toward the distant road ahead.
After a moment, Lyrica rose to follow behind him, her muscles aching from the climb while the evening wind swept across the cliffs around them. Yet despite the exhaustion settling deep into her bones, she found herself smiling quietly as they continued north together.
Because now she understood what he had really been trying to teach her. Sometimes the easier road exists, but life does not always allow people to take it.