On the Path of Eternal Strength.

Chapter 141: Together Under Another Sky

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Virka moved her hand away from the backpack when Valentina leaned against her side.

The girl had finished putting away her things, but she kept looking at the courtyard, the stones where she had tried to balance on one leg, and the space her mother and grandfather had crossed for hours.

The sun was descending behind the heights; a strip of light remained over the blue edges of Kael’s robe.

Kael held in front of him once more the drawing Valentina had given him.

—I made your arms big so you can hug us —Valentina explained, moving closer to the paper.

Kael lowered his gaze toward her.

The smile appeared slowly as his fingers smoothed a folded corner.

—Then they turned out well.

Valentina smiled too and turned toward Virka, satisfied with that approval.

Her mother ran a hand over her back and let her remain leaning against her. The tiredness was beginning to show in the way the girl shifted her weight from one foot to the other, although she still raised her face whenever someone spoke.

Virka crouched down, picked her up in her arms, and followed Kael inside. The backpack remained hanging from one of her hands, held by the handle so that Narka could keep his position.

They spent the remaining time near the hall.

Kael placed the drawing on a dry surface and brought them something to eat before the return trip. Valentina remained beside Virka, recounting small parts of the day between one bite and another: the stain she had left too wet, the foot she could not keep raised, and the enormous arm she had drawn for her mother.

At times she stopped to search for a word and continued by pointing with her fingers.

Kael listened to her without correcting those explanations; Virka brushed a crumb from her clothes or brought the water closer when she saw that she needed it.

Outside, the shadows finished covering the courtyard and the forest air grew cold.

Before leaving, Virka left Valentina with her grandfather and entered the room where she had changed that morning.

She removed the disciple attire, recovered the black clothes she had arrived in, and let down the hair she had kept tied up during practice.

When she returned, she carried the spare folded over her forearms.

Kael stood up to receive it, and she straightened the tails before handing it to him.

—My outfit is at the mansion —she said, withdrawing her fingers from the red edge—. I’ll wear that one on the trip. This one can stay here.

—All right, daughter.

Kael held the garment and took it away to store it.

Valentina waited beside her mother, rubbing one eye with the back of her hand. Virka moved her fingers away from her face and adjusted the two-colored lock that had shifted over her cheek.

When Kael returned, they walked together to the gate.

The forest still held a few scattered sounds beneath the beginning night; the last light barely reached the path.

Valentina approached her grandfather before Virka lifted her.

Kael bent down and opened his arms.

The girl wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed her cheek against the robe, and remained like that for a few moments, with her eyes closed.

—See you later, Grandpa.

—Rest well, granddaughter —he replied, stroking her back.

Virka waited until they separated and adjusted the backpack on Valentina’s shoulders. She checked that the opening through which Narka peeked remained clear and turned toward Kael.

—Thank you, Father.

He placed a hand on her shoulder and kept it there long enough for Virka to raise her eyes toward him.

—Take care of yourselves. And enjoy the trip.

Virka nodded.

Then she picked up Valentina, supported her legs with one arm, and drew her back against her chest with the other. The girl settled in without effort and rested her head on her shoulder.

They crossed the gate while Kael remained at the threshold.

The black aura began to spread around Virka, reached her daughter, and surrounded the backpack. The layer settled gently over the three of them; the friction of the air was muffled before the world yielded to the Veil.

The path and the dojo kept their shapes within the silent reflection.

Kael watched his daughter and granddaughter disappear from the normal world.

He remained by the gate for a moment and then returned to the hall.

The drawing was still where he had left it.

He sat down, took it by the edges, and rested it on his knees. The white arms occupied a large part of the page; the sleeves had blue brushstrokes, and the smile stretched across a face Valentina had painted without stopping to consider proportions.

Kael traced those lines with his gaze.

After a while, he left the sheet beside him, still smiling, as the night finished settling around the temple.

In the Veil, Virka shortened the first burst to check how Valentina was positioned.

The girl kept one arm around her neck and the other tucked against her chest. Narka remained stable inside the backpack.

Virka reinforced the support beneath her legs with aura and rose above the path.

The protection opened the air in front of them and supported Valentina during the ascent. As she came down, the energy spread beneath Virka’s feet, softened the impact, and gathered again before the next jump.

The return journey passed between slopes and motionless expanses.

Virka chose her footholds in advance and adjusted each descent to keep the girl close to her body.

Valentina raised her face once, watched the heights being left behind, and settled back onto her shoulder.

Soon after, her fingers stopped gripping the fabric so tightly.

Her breathing became slower.

Virka gathered her back more securely and kept the protection surrounding the backpack and the small sleeping body constant.

When the mansion appeared, she shortened the last jumps and descended onto the garden path.

She walked to the entrance before withdrawing the aura. The black layer receded from the backpack, Valentina’s legs, and her own arms; the Veil gave way, and the cool night air brushed against her hair again.

The lights of the house illuminated the entrance.

Virka had barely reached the door when Sebastián opened it from inside.

His gaze lowered toward Valentina and stopped on the cheek resting against Virka’s shoulder. He brought a hand closer and moved aside the hair that covered part of her face.

—Did she fall asleep?

—During the return —Virka replied, adjusting the arm beneath her legs.

Valentina stirred when she heard the voices.

She barely opened her eyes and looked for Sebastián without fully lifting her head.

—Dad.

—I’m here.

He brushed her cheek with his fingers and stepped aside to let them enter.

Then he supported the weight of the backpack while Virka carefully freed the girl’s arms from the straps. Narka shifted his head inside the opening; Sebastián checked on him before taking the handle.

They went upstairs together.

Valentina closed her eyes again and left one hand on her mother’s neck, too tired to begin telling her father everything she had done.

In the bedroom, Sebastián set the backpack on the floor and opened the zipper.

Narka came out in his reduced form while Virka sat Valentina on the bed.

The girl followed her mother’s short instructions between small yawns: she raised her arms, let her clothes be removed, and held onto her when sleep made her lean to one side.

Virka cleaned her hands and face, put on her pink bunny pajamas, and arranged her hair away from her neck.

Sebastián pulled the blanket aside so she could lay her down.

Valentina lay on her side, facing her mother.

Virka covered her legs and smoothed the fabric beside her shoulder. The girl searched for her hand on the bed and held two of her fingers.

—Good night, Mom.

—Good night, my girl.

Sebastián leaned over from the other side and kissed her forehead.

Valentina murmured a goodbye to him, but the end was lost in a yawn. Her hand remained closed for a few more moments before loosening.

Virka waited until she felt her breathing become calm and slowly withdrew her fingers.

Narka settled at the foot of the bed.

The notebook remained protected inside the backpack, with the dried paintings between its covers.

Virka stayed beside her daughter while Sebastián dimmed the light.

The day’s work could still be felt in her arms and legs, but her attention remained fixed on the small curve of the body beneath the blanket.

She checked that the pillow was not bending her neck and moved one last strand of hair away from her mouth.

Only then did she stand.

Sebastián waited for her at the door.

They both left without hurrying and left the door partly open.

The house was quiet when they returned to the lower floor. Through the living room windows, the illuminated garden paths and the dark masses of the trees could be seen.

Sebastián sat in one of the armchairs, and Virka took the place beside him. She rested her hands on her legs, moved her fingers once, and slowly let out a breath. Sebastián waited for her to settle before turning toward her.

—Tell me how it went —he said.

Virka raised her gaze toward him and turned her body slightly to speak.

She told him about the day while the night finished settling against the windows, from the courtyard to the return, and she did so with a freedom she rarely allowed herself. There was a quiet, subdued joy in her voice, a light that rose into her red eyes and softened the fierceness of her gaze. Sebastián listened without interrupting her, without taking his eyes from hers, where the red tornado turned with its perpetual slowness.

When she reached the part about Valentina’s sleeping head on her shoulder, her voice gradually shortened until it faded away, and she remained looking at him.

Sebastián waited. He knew that silence: it was not discomfort, but the silence she fell into when something stirred inside her and she searched for the shortest way to say it.

—What’s wrong?

—It’s been a while since we’ve had sex —said Virka, without lowering her gaze, with the frankness of someone who had never learned to go around what she wanted.

He did not move. She went on, slowly, choosing each word, because with him it cost her less to tell the truth than with any other being. Since Valentina had arrived, the old longing to have a child had grown quiet, and she regretted nothing, neither what they had lived through nor what they had.

—I don’t regret Valentina —she said, her voice low—. But today I wanted another child again. I want to feel all of that once more.

That day she had felt again what she used to feel when she longed for that moment without having it: the shared table, the embrace, the family gathered together. Now that she had it, the instinct had risen once more, and it no longer asked only to remember those days, but to repeat them. But it wasn’t only that.

—And I want to have you without restraint.

She wanted to desire him again, to cling to him abruptly, without control, and for both of them to show each other more affection and more desire than they already had. If another child came, it would be welcome; if not, she would keep falling in love with him all the same.

Sebastián looked at her for a long moment. Then, at the corner of his lips, a minimal smile appeared, barely a fold in the hardness of his face.

—All right.

They rose from the couch without hurry and climbed the stairs with steps that barely touched the wood. At Valentina’s door, which was still ajar, they stopped. Through the gap they could make out the curve of a body beneath the blanket and Narka’s shadow at the foot of the bed. Virka listened to the calm breathing, checked it the way one checks a lock, and moved on.

At the end of the hallway, Sebastián’s room awaited them, as austere as the man who lived in it: a bed with a frame of solid planks, a table with a few notebooks arranged in order, a closed wardrobe and nothing else, no ornament, no luxury, barely what was necessary for someone who had learned to do without everything else. Moonlight came in through the windows, stretched across the floor in pale rectangles, climbed the edge of the bed and left a cold glow in the air.

Virka closed the door behind her. It was the last restrained gesture of the night.

They met in the middle of the room, and the restraint they had held all day gave way at once. Sebastián took her by the nape and the waist and kissed her with a force that knocked the air out of her. She answered by biting his lower lip, just enough to taste the iron of blood, and kissed him again with her mouth open, asking for nothing, taking.

His hands, rough with calluses, ran over her back and found the fastenings of her black clothing, which were no obstacle: the fabric gave way with a dry tear and the cool night air touched her skin. Virka pulled at Sebastián’s garment with the same urgency, lifted it over his shoulders and threw it far away. Her hands traced the torso she knew by heart, the relief of each scar beneath her fingertips, as if she were counting them.

They kissed and bit each other without measure. She sank her teeth into his neck, into the taut line where the muscles gathered, and he answered by lowering his mouth down her own neck and sucking at the skin until he left the first hickey, red against that almost gray whiteness, and then another, and another, with a voracity that had nothing of the serenity of his silences. The clothes kept falling in pieces between them, until nothing remained to separate them, and Sebastián lifted her and laid her on the bed.

The moon fell upon her like a hand. Virka lay back on the sheets with her black hair spread beneath her, wavy, full of shadows, and her body offered itself to the light with an almost deathly pallor, with skin that turned grayish in the shade and looked like cold ivory in the reflection. Her waist narrowed so much that Sebastián’s hands could almost completely encircle it, and from there it opened, in a stubborn curve, toward her hips and thighs. Her breasts rose and fell with her agitated breathing, full and firm on that slender torso, and in every line there was a subtle muscular tension that reminded him that this beauty was not fragile, but contained.

Sebastián stayed above her, propped on his arms, his muscles, carved by pain, taut as cords, and his golden skin marked by more than a hundred scars that the moon lit one by one: the two on his abdomen, the long cut on his left leg, the burn on his right shoulder.

Then the marks of the inverted thunder, one on each of their chests, awakened. First it was a warmth, then a pulse, and then a resonance that went back and forth between them like a thunder trapped between two bodies and made the skin, the bones, the air itself vibrate, while his red tornado and her pupilless red met in the half-light with an intensity that needed no words.

They kissed again and, afterward, he moved down. He traced her neck with his lips and teeth, the line of her collarbone, the hollow where the pulse beat, and reached her breasts, where he circled a nipple with his tongue, took it between his lips and barely bit it, leaving a soft mark, while Virka arched her back and let out a short, hoarse moan that broke against the silence.

She lowered a hand between them, guided him, and he entered slowly, with an almost cruel slowness, letting every inch be felt. Virka closed her eyes and let out her breath, and for a few moments there was only the unhurried movement of two bodies settling, the brush of skin, the breath.

But slowness was not Virka’s nature. As he sank deeper, her stillness cracked; her hips began to push against his, first with a rhythm that searched, then with a violence that demanded, and her nails dug into the three deep cuts on his back, drawing a low growl from Sebastián.

—Harder —she said against his mouth—. Don’t hold back.

Sebastián obeyed. He let the part of himself that he always kept under control loosen just slightly, not the whole beast, only enough, and his thrusts became deep, fast, sure.

Virka’s body answered every stroke: her breasts shook with the rhythm, her waist arched, her thighs closed around his sides as if to keep from letting him go, and her voice, which was almost never raised, broke into moans that gathered in her throat. Sweat began to cover their skin, to slide down his chest and pool in the hollow between their bodies, and the sound of flesh against flesh filled the room along with the ragged breathing of them both.

The bed groaned. At first it was a low creak, the sound of the wood adjusting to the weight, but with each thrust the protest grew deeper, and one of the boards beneath the mattress cracked with a dry snap that neither of them wanted to hear.

The first minutes passed like that, until Virka pushed him with her palm against his chest, over the mark, and turned over. She braced herself on her knees and hands, her back dipped and her hair falling in a dark cascade over one shoulder. The curve of her backside was exposed to the moonlight, rounded, white, with a promise that needed no measurements to be understood. She moved her hips slowly, once, twice, in a slow and deliberate offering that had more of the animal than of seduction in it.

Sebastián gripped her hips with his large, callused hands, sinking his fingers into her flesh, and entered her again with a thrust that made her throw her head back. He leaned over her back without ceasing to move, kissed her nape, bit her shoulder, left a trail of red marks along her neck, and she turned her face to reach his mouth. They kissed like that, twisted, panting, while her body swayed forward with each stroke and her breasts swung beneath her, heavy, pale, alive.

Then it was she who brought him down. She pushed him onto his back on the rumpled sheets and straddled him, her knees on either side of his hips and her hair hanging like a black veil over them both. She moved with a cadence that at first was slow, almost ritual, rotating her hips and letting her whole body undulate, and that then quickened until it became a gallop.

Her breasts rose and fell with each impulse, her flat stomach tensed, her narrow waist bent and straightened, and Virka’s hands rested on his chest, right over the inverted thunder, which answered with a pulse so strong that they both held their breath. Sebastián seized her by the waist and by the thighs, helped her come down harder, to meet each thrust of her hips, and looked at her from below with the tornado spinning faster than ever, watching the sweat run down her neck, her face contracted with pleasure, her mouth parted, her red eyes fixed on his.

The orgasm reached her first. It was a long wave that ran down her back, tore a deep moan from her and left her trembling on top of him, and even so she did not stop; she moved through it, asked for more, and he gave it to her.

The moon drifted across the floor as time dissolved. There was a pause in which they lay on their sides, breathing, their skin stuck together with sweat, and Virka ran her fingers over the scars on his torso, like someone reading.

But the pause did not last long. She moved down his body kissing him, his chest, his abdomen, where the two large scars crossed the muscles, until her mouth took him. Sebastián let out a rough sound and his hands closed over the sheets, sinking his fingers in until the fabric gave way. Virka received him with an instinctive devotion, slow and deep, raising her eyes to him without letting him go, and he saw in that gaze what no one else would ever see: the beast and, beneath it, the tenderness, given in equal measure.

His body, always rigid with tension, broke once; he held his breath, shuddered, and gently pulled her away before losing control, drew her up to his mouth and kissed her with a depth that tasted of her.

It was Virka, once again, who decided the next step. She turned over, braced herself on her forearms and knees, reached a hand back, took Sebastián’s and guided it between her buttocks, toward the place she wanted. She said to him, in that low voice of someone who doesn’t ask permission:

—There too.

Sebastián hesitated for barely a second, not from lack of desire but out of care, and she sensed it and pushed back against him so that there would be no doubt. Then he prepared her with his fingers, wet with the moisture she herself had left on his skin, opening her slowly from behind, where Virka’s body closed tight and hot, until a long gasp told him she was ready.

He entered her anally with a slowness that made his arms tremble, and she held her breath, squeezed the sheet between her fists and exhaled when she felt him fully inside, so tight and burning that Sebastián closed his eyes for an instant. Virka began to move backward, seeking him, and the curve of her back dipped and rose with each advance. Little by little the rhythm hardened, until nothing was left to her but sensation and she asked for faster, deeper, harder, pushing as far as she wanted with nothing holding her back. Sebastián held her by the hips, felt her tremble beneath his hands and gave her everything she asked for, ever more focused, faster, deeper, without ever hurting her.

Beneath them, the bed gave out. The boards, cracked for hours, began to groan with each thrust, the frame shook against the wall, and a long creak ran through the wood until one of the legs gave way and the mattress tilted with a dull crash. Virka let out a breath that came close to being a laugh, the first of the night, and did not pull away; Sebastián held her against his chest so that the fall would not separate her from him, and they carried on over the crooked mattress, over the splintered edge of the boards, while the wood finished tearing apart under the force of their bodies.

Nothing remained in them of the slowness with which they had begun. His thrust was deep and sustained; hers, hungry and exact. Sweat ran down their chests and backs, mixing where they touched, while her fingers clung to his shoulders and the burn on the right one throbbed beneath her palm.

When they sat up facing each other, she seated on him, her legs wrapped around his waist, they looked at each other from very close, forehead against forehead, and then the inverted thunder in both their chests roared at once. Sebastián growled against her mouth, Virka clung to him with her whole body, and the end reached them together, long, shaking them to the bones and leaving in the air a vibration that took a while to fade.

But the night did not end there. There were pauses in which they lay still on the fallen mattress, entangled, their skin cooling under the moonlight, and there were times when desire flared up again in one of them and the other received it without words, with a hunger that neither fully understood, until the light began to change.

The moon left the windows and the sky gradually lightened to a slow gray, then to a dirty blue, and the first birds of the forest broke the silence of the house. It was Sunday.

In the room, what had been a bed was a heap of dislodged boards, the sheets lay twisted on the floor, Virka’s black clothes were in shreds by the door, and one of the notebooks on the table, so orderly at the beginning, had fallen to the floor.

Virka lay on Sebastián’s chest, her black hair spilled over them both, her body covered in red marks and her breathing at last calm. The inverted thunders had gone quiet, and only a serene warmth remained between them. He ran his hand down her back, slowly, with the tenderness only she knew, and Virka closed her eyes, feeling the heartbeat beneath her cheek.

If something was to be born of that night, time would tell; for now, it had been enough to find each other again.

Sunday’s light entered through the windows and reached the table where Sebastián kept his notebooks neatly arranged. He sat up, placed his feet on the floor, and brushed a lock of hair away from his forehead.

Virka opened her eyes when she felt him move and remained for a few moments watching the light spread across the walls.

The house was still silent. From the garden came the rustling of leaves, accompanied by the irregular song of a bird.

They got up and looked for light clothing before leaving the room. When Sebastián finished adjusting his T-shirt, Virka took his hand.

He turned toward her and received a brief, calm kiss.

Virka kept her fingers intertwined with his for a few steps, until they reached Valentina’s room.

The girl was sleeping on her side, with one hand tucked beside her cheek. Narka rested near her feet in his reduced form and raised his head when the door opened.

Virka sat on the edge of the bed, moved aside the hair covering part of Valentina’s face, and stroked her shoulder.

—Valentina, wake up. We’re traveling today.

The girl wrinkled her nose and searched for the blanket with her fingers. It took her a little while to open her eyes; then she looked at Virka and, upon noticing Sebastián beside the bed, began to sit up.

—Are we going north already?

Sebastián held the blanket while she pulled her legs out.

—First we’re going to bathe and have breakfast. After that, we’ll meet up with the others.

Valentina nodded, still drowsy, and stretched her arms toward Virka.

She lifted her, received the weight of her head against her shoulder, and left with Sebastián at her side. Narka followed them without making a sound.

Washing up fully woke the girl.

Virka helped her wash her hair and dry it afterward, while Sebastián prepared the clothes they would wear.

Before leaving the bathroom, Valentina let a little water run over her hands. She cupped her palms beneath the stream and, suddenly, closed them around an empty space to her right.

She opened them to check what she had caught.

Then she followed with her gaze something that seemed to move near the edge of the sink and tried again, this time more slowly.

Virka watched the place her daughter was looking at, finding nothing visible, and handed her the towel.

—Come. You still need to dry yourself.

Valentina obeyed, although she turned her head one last time before leaving.

They chose comfortable clothes for the journey.

Sebastián put on a black T-shirt, dark pants made of flexible fabric, and sturdy footwear. Virka chose a T-shirt in the same shade, lightweight pants, and closed shoes. She tied back her hair so it would not get in the way and helped Valentina with a light-colored T-shirt and soft pants.

The girl sat down to put on her shoes, concentrating on fastening each closure. When she finished, she lifted both feet to show them to Sebastián.

He checked that they were securely fastened before helping her down.

In the kitchen, Virka once again took care of breakfast.

This time she kept the heat lower and paid attention to the pan while preparing the eggs. She still needed to stop to calculate the amounts, and the bread ended up a little more toasted than she intended, but she was able to carry the plates to the table without Sebastián having to intervene.

She added cut fruit and sat down after placing Valentina’s portion in front of her.

The girl first tried a piece of bread and began eating with the appetite that sleep had hidden from her.

—It’s tasty, Mom —she said, pulling the plate closer again.

Virka looked at her breakfast and then at Sebastián.

He was already eating. When he met her eyes, he gave her a small smile.

She returned her attention to Valentina and moved the fruit closer so she could reach it.

Afterward, they cleared the table and finished closing the luggage.

Sebastián carried his suitcase to the entrance while Virka checked hers. Among her clothes, the combat suit she kept at the mansion was packed away.

Valentina wanted to arrange the things in her small suitcase by herself and left space for Narka before calling him.

He settled inside with his body reduced and tucked in his tail to make himself comfortable. The girl adjusted what was around him, checked that the opening remained clear, and raised her face toward her parents.

—We’re ready.

Sebastián took the two larger suitcases.

Virka accompanied Valentina to the door and helped her with hers as they went down the steps.

The SUV was waiting in front of the mansion entrance.

The driver got out when he saw them and opened the luggage compartment. Sebastián placed the large suitcases inside and returned to help Valentina get in.

The girl kept her small suitcase inside the vehicle, beside her. Through the opening, Narka’s golden eye appeared for an instant before he settled back into place.

Virka took the seat near her daughter, and Sebastián closed the door after checking that both of them were settled.

Shortly afterward, the SUV left the garden paths behind and headed toward the city.

The journey passed with few words.

Valentina watched the streets through the window, becoming more awake by the moment, and pointed at a tree when she saw that its branches seemed to lean over the passing vehicles.

Virka followed the gesture and listened as the girl tried to describe it.

Sebastián watched the road, attentive to the intersections and the morning traffic.

Sunday traffic was calmer than on school days. As they approached the Institute, they recognized the outer structures and the entrance where they had agreed to meet.

óscar was the first to notice the SUV.

He was standing beside his luggage, wearing a loose white shirt whose sleeves fell widely over his arms, light gray pants, and sneakers. His brown hair was tied in his usual bun, and he held one of the straps of his bag with one hand.

When he recognized them, he raised the other and let a smile appear that still carried some of his quiet irony.

Zaira was waiting near him.

Her jacket and sports pants in light tones matched her sneakers; a light blue cap protected her eyes from the sun. Her red hair came out from beneath it and fell down her back.

When she saw the vehicle stop, she straightened and moved her suitcase away from the edge of the entrance to give them space.

Luciana remained a little farther back.

The wide-brimmed hat cast a shadow over her round glasses and tied-back black hair. She wore a simple dress and a small bag, whose strap she adjusted over her shoulder when Sebastián got out.

Her smile was discreet, but she kept it as she approached the others.

Virka helped Valentina get down and handed her small suitcase to her.

The girl saw óscar and moved toward him with quick steps, until the weight of her things forced her to slow down.

—We’re here!

óscar tilted his head slightly to look at her.

Zaira greeted Virka and Sebastián while he placed the suitcases beside the group’s.

—Good morning.

—Good morning —Virka replied, moving closer to her daughter.

Luciana stepped forward a few paces and returned Sebastián’s greeting with a slight nod of her head.

Valentina stood beside Virka without letting go of her luggage and looked from one person to another with a joy that had now fully awakened her. The SUV remained behind them. In front of the Institute entrance, the family joined óscar, Zaira, and the teacher.

The driver got out again and opened the luggage compartment. óscar brought his bag over, and Zaira carried her suitcase to the back, where Sebastián helped arrange them beside the ones they had brought from the mansion.

The vehicle was large enough to carry the entire group; the rows of seats left enough space for them to spread out without crowding together.

Valentina remained beside Virka, holding her small suitcase with both hands. When the driver approached to take it, the girl looked up, and Virka placed her fingers on the handle.

—This one stays with us.

The man nodded and returned to the rest of the luggage.

Luciana waited until they had finished arranging the suitcases, took her phone out of her bag, and checked the confirmations they had received. Then she raised her face toward the group and adjusted her glasses with a brief motion.

—The Institute authorized the activity for today and tomorrow —she explained—. Both days will be recognized as part of our club’s first expedition.

Her voice remained low, although the conditions she had reviewed allowed her to speak without hesitation.

She indicated that the pending authorizations were complete and that the lodging had been confirmed. The Institute would cover the rooms at a guesthouse reserved for the group, where they could remain until nine in the morning on Monday. At that time, they would have to vacate them, although the activities for the second day would continue afterward.

Luciana directed her gaze toward Sebastián and Virka.

—I also want to thank you for covering the round-trip transportation, including the bullet train tickets, and the meal service.

Sebastián responded with a discreet nod of his head.

Virka held the teacher’s gaze and then checked that Valentina was still nearby.

Luciana clarified that the meal package had been booked separately at the same lodging: Sunday lunch and dinner, as well as Monday breakfast. The rooms were covered by the Institute’s support.

The individual expenses for visits and activities would be each member’s responsibility; Sebastián and Virka would also cover their daughter’s.

óscar listened with one hand on the strap of his bag, still waiting for the driver to finish arranging it. Zaira followed the explanation without interrupting, attentive to the conditions that applied to them.

That arrangement allowed them to make the trip, but each of them would have to manage their resources and decide how to make use of them during the outings.

Luciana moved on to the final part before putting away her phone.

—When you return, you will have to prepare an organized essay about what you learned. It will have to distinguish the group’s observations, the information we receive, and each person’s contributions. That will allow us to present the work, assess your participation, and record the merits of this first activity.

Valentina raised her face toward Virka and then looked at the teacher.

—Do I have to write all of that too?

Luciana lowered the phone slightly, and her expression softened.

—Your assignment will be a collage, Valentina. You can gather drawings and images of the places we visit and what you learn. Your parents will help you organize it.

The girl looked at her suitcase, where she had packed her things, and raised her head again.

—I can draw.

—Yes —Luciana replied, with a small smile—. Your drawings will also count as part of the activity.

Valentina pulled the suitcase closer to her legs, satisfied with that task.

Virka moved a lock of hair away from her face while Luciana put away the phone and watched the driver close the luggage compartment. Whatever remained to be reviewed about the itinerary could be discussed along the way.

—Is everyone ready?

—Yes, Professor —Sebastián replied, picking up Valentina’s small suitcase to help her get in.

Virka confirmed that she was ready as well and accompanied her daughter to the door.

Zaira adjusted the strap over her shoulder.

—We can leave.

óscar let go of his bag when the driver finished storing it and approached the vehicle.

—I’m ready to go.

Valentina added an enthusiastic yes before placing her foot on the step.

Sebastián helped her inside and placed her suitcase near her. They spread out among the seats, kept their small bags within reach, and waited for Luciana to take her place.

The driver returned to the wheel.

Shortly afterward, the Institute entrance began to recede behind the windows.

Luciana used the ride to the station to review the general order of the two days with them.

The questions were brief and focused on schedules, transportation, and how they would record what they learned. óscar consulted the itinerary he had prepared; Zaira checked some references, and Virka listened without moving too far from Valentina.

Sebastián stepped in when they needed to confirm any of the transportation arrangements.

The conversation continued as they traveled, while the streets filled with open businesses and pedestrians beginning their Sunday.

When they arrived at the station, the driver stopped in the drop-off area and opened the rear compartment again.

Each of them collected their things.

Sebastián left Virka’s suitcase within her reach and took his own, while she helped Valentina get down with Narka still settled inside the small piece of luggage.

Luciana checked the train’s departure and gathered the group near the entrance.

Before following her, Sebastián turned toward the driver to thank him for the ride. The man returned the greeting and remained beside the SUV while they went inside.

Inside the station, the voices of travelers mixed with the announcements and the rolling of suitcases. Light fell from the windows onto the polished floor.

Luciana led them toward the corresponding platform after checking the tickets, and the group moved together among the people looking for their departures.

Valentina walked holding Virka’s hand. Sebastián was now also carrying her small suitcase so she could keep pace without effort.

They boarded the preferred-class carriage and found their seats in the same section.

There was enough legroom, wide backrests, and places to arrange the luggage without taking up the aisle.

óscar and Zaira stored their things before sitting down; Luciana left her bag beside her and checked one last time that everyone was there.

Virka helped Valentina settle near the window. The small suitcase remained by her feet, with the opening unobstructed.

Narka barely moved his head from inside and then became still again.

When the train began to move, Valentina leaned toward the glass.

The structures of the platform receded slowly and then more quickly, until the tracks left the station behind.

The city began to stretch out beyond the windows. Buildings, intersections, and roads passed before them in a succession that became less dense as the train gained speed.

Virka placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder when she tried to move even closer to the glass.

The morning passed between observations, brief questions, and moments of silence.

óscar let the tablet rest on his legs and looked at the landscape. Zaira followed part of the route before putting away her references. Luciana answered a few questions without turning the journey into a continuous class.

Valentina looked for Virka whenever she noticed something new and, when she did not know its name, pointed toward the window so that she could see it too.

Sebastián listened from his seat.

The places they had studied during the week were beginning to acquire a real distance, now measured by what they were leaving behind.

The open expanses gave way to higher terrain. Tree-covered slopes, rock cuts, and settlements nestled among the hillsides appeared.

The train passed through tunnels that darkened the windows for a few moments; when it emerged from them, the light returned over a landscape where the mountains occupied more and more space.

The buildings changed as well.

In the towns near the tracks, brick and stone fa?ades, wooden balconies, and sloped roofs predominated. There were well-maintained roads and newer buildings, but the architecture retained simpler forms than the city’s large glass structures.

Toward the end of the morning, the train slowed down.

Luciana put away her documents, and the others began gathering their things. Valentina reached for the handle of her suitcase before Virka brought it closer to her.

The mountains remained visible behind the station when the train came to a complete stop and the doors opened.

The northern air entered the carriage in a cool gust.

As they stepped down, Zaira held the visor of her cap, and óscar adjusted his shirt beneath the strap of his bag. The sun warmed the open parts of the platform, but the wind carried the cold from the slopes, and it could be clearly felt once they left the shelter of the train.

There was no snow on the rooftops or on the nearby slopes. Between the buildings, trees, dark stone, and roads climbing toward the higher neighborhoods could be seen.

Virka received Valentina at the foot of the entrance and held her hand. Sebastián stepped down with the luggage and left the suitcases beside them while the group finished gathering together.

The girl raised her face toward the mountains.

From the platform, she could make out the dark patches of trees and the exposed sections of rock that interrupted the slopes. She followed one of the inclines with her gaze all the way to its highest point and tightened her fingers around Virka’s.

—Look, Mom. They’re so big.

Virka leaned slightly toward her and followed the direction of her eyes.

—Yes. They look better from here.

Valentina remained looking for a few moments longer.

Then she turned toward Sebastián to make sure he had seen them too. He looked toward the slope and then gave her a brief smile.

Near their legs, Narka slightly poked his head out through the opening of the small suitcase and remained still, his golden eye directed toward the landscape.

óscar adjusted the bag over his shoulder and observed a street that climbed between the buildings. His gaze moved from the wooden balconies to the rooftops, lingering on differences they had barely been able to appreciate from the train.

Zaira stood beside him, adjusted the visor of her cap, and surveyed the surroundings with her eyes.

She took a moment before picking up her suitcase. Luciana was already approaching to gather them.

The teacher put her phone away in her bag and waited until everyone turned their attention back toward her. Beneath the brim of her hat, a discreet smile appeared.

She looked at Valentina, still focused on the mountains, and let her finish pointing them out to Virka before speaking.

—Let’s stay together, please.

óscar picked up his luggage, and Zaira made room for the family to come closer.

Sebastián took the suitcases, while Virka took Valentina’s small one with her free hand. Narka settled back inside.

The girl began walking with the group, holding her mother’s hand and with her face still turned toward the mountains.

________________________________________

END OF CHAPTER 139 The path continues…

New chapters are revealed every

Sunday, and also between Wednesday or Thursday,

when the will of the tale so decides.

Each one leaves another scar on Sebastián’s journey.

If this abyss resonated with you,

keep it in your collection

and leave a mark: a comment, a question, an echo.

Your presence keeps alive the flame that shapes this world.

Thank you for walking by my side.

If this story resonated with you, perhaps we have already crossed paths in another corner of the digital world. Over there, they know me as Goru SLG.

I want to thank from the heart all the people who are reading and supporting this work. Your time, your comments, and your support keep this world alive.

If this story resonated with you, I invite you to support me — your presence and backing make it possible for.

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