The Road of Ashes
Three days out from Eldhollow, the land grew colder.
The warmth of Elira's awakening had not lingered in the air—it was something that pulsed in her veins now, quiet but constant. Like a heartbeat she could finally hear clearly.
The trio traveled by dusk and dawn, avoiding the main roads. Rian guided from the front, his knowledge of hidden trails proving invaluable. Kael rode in silence, always watching, always thinking. Elira kept pace in the middle—tethered between the boy who had once loved her brother like a brother, and the man who had been ordered to deliver her in chains.
It was a strange balance.
And it couldn't last.
⸻
They made camp near an abandoned watchtower at the base of the Thornspire Hills. The stones bore the sigils of the old war—scars from battles long since erased from the songs.
That night, as the others slept, Elira sat alone near the fire. The flames flickered in rhythm with her breathing—obedient now. Loyal.
But her heart wasn't quiet.
Kael approached without sound, as always. He didn't sit until she looked up.
"Can't sleep either?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Not in places like this."
"Why? Bad memories?"
"Too many."
She studied him for a moment. "You always keep your distance. Even now."
"I'm a soldier," he said simply. "I was trained to become a weapon, not a person."
"I don't want a weapon," she said. "I want the truth."
He hesitated—then took a slow breath.
"I killed a mage once," he said quietly. "When I was sixteen. My first mission."
Elira's breath caught.
"She didn't fight back. She was scared. But my orders were clear, and I followed them. I told myself I was protecting the kingdom." He looked at her. "But it wasn't the kingdom I was protecting. It was my place in it."
Silence crackled like distant thunder.
"You think telling me that will make me hate you?" she asked.
"No. I think you deserve to know who you're traveling with."
She leaned back slightly, staring at the stars. "I don't need you to be perfect, Kael. I just need you to stop hiding."
He was quiet for a long time.
Then he said, "When we reach Frosthold… there won't be many people willing to protect you."
"I don't need many," Elira said. "Just one who won't leave when it matters."
Their eyes met.
No fire this time. Just warmth. Shared and wordless.
And somewhere nearby, in the shadow of the hills, something stirred.
A glint of metal. The crunch of leaves. A cloaked figure crouched in the darkness, watching them through a silver lens.
Then it slipped away into the night.