The fire had died down to glowing coals. The others slept, or pretended to.
Phoenix sat upright against the crumbled stone wall, his breathing quiet now, steadier. His ribs still ached — they would for days — but the worst of the pain had numbed into something dull.
Across the tower's ruined archway, Ryliegh stood watch.
Still. Silent.
His back to the fire. Eyes on the dark.
Phoenix cleared his throat softly. "You ever sleep, Ray?"
Ryliegh didn't turn. "When I'm dead."
"Cheerful."
A pause.
Then Ryliegh added, "We take turns. I took the quiet half."
Phoenix let that settle.
"You trust them?" he asked.
"The greens?"
"Yeah."
"They've bled beside us," Ryliegh said. "That's more than most."
Phoenix looked into the dying fire. "Still feels like they're watching me."
"They are."
Phoenix gave a soft snort. "Comforting."
"They're waiting to decide if you're a myth, a liar, or a threat."
"Not a hero?"
Ryliegh looked over his shoulder, just slightly. "We don't get those anymore."
Phoenix shifted, wincing slightly as his back scraped the stone. "I didn't want to be the one who lived, you know."
"I know."
"I just… didn't stop. That's it. Not courage. Not strategy. Just rage. And stubbornness."
"Sounds like a red knight."
Phoenix smiled faintly. "You know, you're hard to read under all that 'grim black iron knight of death' charm."
Ryliegh didn't respond immediately.
Then: "Good."
Phoenix looked at him.
"You always like this?" he asked.
"What?"
"Walled off. Razor-tongued. Always a sword's length away from everyone."
Ryliegh was quiet for a while.
Then: "There were five of us."
Phoenix's brow furrowed. "Black knights?"
"Not in title. Just… us. From the same village. Same training. Same war."
"What happened?"
Ryliegh's voice didn't change. "They died. I didn't."
Phoenix waited, but nothing more came.
Ryliegh turned back to the dark.
"I learned early: the more someone knows about you, the easier it is to bury you."
Phoenix was silent for a moment.
Then, quietly: "Ray."
"What."
"I know a little about you now."
Ryliegh looked at him again. His expression — unreadable behind the helm — didn't shift.
But he didn't turn away.
Phoenix leaned his head back against the stone. "So if I die, you've got one more name to bury."
Ryliegh was silent. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword.
Then he said:
"Not planning on burying you."
Phoenix smiled faintly. "I'll take that as progress."
The fire crackled.
Beyond the ruins, the Darkzone watched.
But inside, two knights sat together — one guarding the dark, the other guarding the silence.
And in that silence, something steady formed.
Not trust.
Not yet.
But something close.