The place felt dead now. The chaos of the day had been washed away, leaving behind only silence. The hunters who had once crowded the inn were gone, scattered to their own journeys. But that didn't concern Avilio. His eyes weren't searching for the crowd. They were searching for one person—the little boy with the bow.
Tora trailed behind, watching Avilio weave through the empty corridors and quiet corners. He didn't know exactly what Avilio was after, but he could tell this wasn't aimless wandering. Avilio was focused, almost desperate.
He combed through the rest house, checking the common hall, the back courtyard, even near the stables. But the boy was nowhere. After what felt like too long, Avilio finally stopped, his hand tightening at his side in quiet frustration.
Determined not to give up yet, he turned to the counter where the inn's manager was busy sorting papers. Noticing the two young men approach, the older man straightened and gave them a polite, professional smile.
"Anything I can help you with?" the manager asked.
Avilio stepped forward without hesitation. "Have you seen a boy with a bow and arrows? He was sleeping here last night. Is he from around here?"
Tora's eyes narrowed slightly as he finally understood what Avilio had been after this whole time.
The manager rubbed his chin in thought, then nodded. "Ah… you must be talking about Liam. No, he isn't from this town."
A flicker of disappointment crossed Avilio's face. "Do you know where he went?"
The man shrugged. "He should still be somewhere nearby."
Hope reignited in Avilio's voice. "You're certain?"
"As certain as I can be. The boy's been staying here for over a week now. He came with a hunting party, but…" The manager's tone softened, almost regretful. "They left without him."
Tora leaned closer, lowering his voice so only Avilio could hear. "Why are you looking for him?"
Avilio's gaze stayed fixed on the manager, his jaw set. "Later," he murmured, and turned back to continue the questioning.
"Do you know which direction he usually goes?" Avilio pressed.
The manager scratched his head, glancing at the door. "He often wanders around the edge of town. Mostly near the sea. Comes back late, if he comes back at all. Strange boy, that one."
Avilio nodded sharply. Without another word he turned for the door. Tora sighed and followed, muttering, "You saw something, didn't you?"
The streets were quiet, the last shades of dusk settling over the rooftops. They moved past shuttered stalls and empty alleys until the town began to thin. Beyond, the land sloped toward the lighthouse, where the sea crashed restlessly against black stone.
That's when Avilio saw him. A small silhouette stood near the edge, bow slung across his back, a quiver dangling loosely at his side. The boy didn't notice them at first—he was too focused, eyes fixed on the horizon where the sea swallowed the last line of the sun. His posture was steady, unnervingly steady for someone so young.
Avilio stopped a few paces away. His chest tightened, though he couldn't explain why. Something about the boy felt… familiar.
"You're Liam, right?" Avilio called out.
The boy turned. His eyes—sharp, cautious, older than his years—studied Avilio for a moment before flicking briefly to Tora, then back. He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he adjusted the bow strap on his shoulder and asked, "I know you guys are looking for me. Why are you looking for me?"
The tone wasn't defensive. It wasn't fearful. It was simply direct. Avilio hesitated, and for the first time in a while, words didn't come easily. He glanced at Tora, who raised an eyebrow as if to say Well?
Finally, Avilio took a slow step closer. "Because I think…."
The boy's expression didn't change, but something in his gaze softened just a flicker, gone as quickly as it came.
The waves roared beneath them, filling the silence.
"I heard you were left behind?" Avilio said gently.
Liam didn't flinch. He pulled the bow off his shoulder and stared at the wood as if the weapon itself carried the weight of the answer. "Yeah. They said I was slowing them down. They put me in the front lines every time… like bait. An archer's supposed to be behind, but I was never allowed to stay there." His voice trembled for just a moment before hardening again. "So one day, they left without me. Guess I was useless."
Avilio felt something tighten in his chest. Tora's expression darkened, but he stayed quiet, letting Avilio carry the conversation.
Avilio crouched a little to meet the boy's eyes. "Why? Why are you a hunter at this age? You're what… twelve? Thirteen?"
The boy finally looked at him, and in his gaze was something far heavier than his years. "I never had much of a family. My father died before I was even born. My mother… she didn't survive giving birth to me. My grandfather raised me until I was eight, but when he passed, everything changed. My uncles split his land among themselves, but none of them wanted me. I was just another mouth to feed, so I had to work for scraps in the village."
His grip on the bow tightened, the leather string creaking faintly. "One day, I left. I thought maybe I could make something of myself as a hunter. Later I heard that the village was destroyed. Monsters came and burned it down. So now… there's nowhere left for me to go."
The words hung in the air like smoke. The waves below the cliff thundered.
For a long moment Avilio didn't say anything. The boy's voice was steady, but underneath it Avilio could hear something fragile, like glass holding back too much weight.
Tora finally broke the silence. "Kid… you've been through more than most grown hunters. But being on the battlefield? That's not where you belong."
The boy gave a bitter smile. "It doesn't matter where I belong. Hunters only care about what you can do for them. If you can't keep up, they throw you away. That's what happened with me."
Avilio's hand drifted to the hilt of his sword. He remembered another time, another pair of eyes that had stared at him with the same mix of defiance and loneliness. His chest tightened.
"You shouldn't be here," Avilio said at last, his tone low but firm. "You're still a child. This path… it'll eat you alive."
The boy's shoulders stiffened. "Then where should I be? Tell me. Because I've already lost everything once. At least here, if I die, it's on my own terms."
The words cut sharper than Avilio expected. He couldn't reply right away. Tora watched him closely, realizing something was stirring inside Avilio that he had never seen before. At length, Avilio crouched so he was eye level with the boy. His voice was calm, but it carried a weight that made Liam listen.
"So, Liam… tell me something."
"What?" the boy asked cautiously.
Avilio's gaze didn't waver. "You say you don't care if you die. But can you fight for something other than yourself? Can you fight for someone else?"
Liam frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Why do you pick up that bow?" Avilio asked, his tone firm but steady. "Is it just to throw your life away… or is it to protect others from losing theirs?"
Liam lowered his head, his fingers tightening on the bowstring. For a long moment, he said nothing. The silence stretched until Avilio thought he might never answer.
Finally, the boy spoke, his voice quiet but sharp enough to cut through the air.
"I don't know if I can protect anyone. I've never been able to. Not my family, not my village. I'm just… trying not to disappear like the rest of them."
He looked up at Avilio, his eyes burning with a mix of anger and shame.
"But if I could… if I had the strength… then yes. I'd fight to make sure no one else ends up like me. No one else should be left behind."
Avilio studied him for a while, then placed a hand on Liam's shoulder. The boy flinched but didn't pull away.
"That's enough for now," Avilio said. "Wanting to protect, that's where every hunter starts. Strength comes after."
Behind them, Tora leaned against a post, arms crossed, silently observing. His usual grin was absent; instead, his eyes softened as he watched Avilio and the boy.
"Guess we're dragging along strays now," Tora finally muttered, though there was no bite in his voice.
Avilio ignored the jab and stood. "Liam, if you're willing, then from today on, you walk with us."
Liam blinked in surprise. "You mean… you'll let me come?"
"You want to be a hunter," Avilio said simply. "Then you'll learn what that really means."
The boy's lips trembled as though he wanted to smile but didn't know how. He only nodded, clutching his bow tighter than ever.
As Liam adjusted the strap of his bow, Avilio's sharp eyes caught something beneath the frayed sleeve of the boy's tunic. A faint mark ran along his forearm—lines twisting into a shape far too deliberate to be a scar.
Avilio reached out before Liam could react, pulling the cloth back. The boy stiffened.
It was a tattoo—dark, weathered ink forming a symbol Avilio hadn't seen in years. Not a mere ornament, but a seal. Ancient. Restrained power seemed to sleep beneath its curves.
"Where did you get this?" Avilio's voice was firm, low.
Liam jerked his arm back. "I… I don't know." His brows furrowed, frustration seeping into his tone. "I don't remember when I got this"
Avilio studied him for a long moment, but Liam's expression carried only confusion, no deceit.
"Fine," Avilio muttered at last. "Keep it covered."
Later, when their bags were packed, the three of them made their way down to the dock where the ferry waited, bound for the Northern Cliffs. The air carried the tang of salt and the quiet of departure.
While Liam leaned against a crate, staring at the water, Tora sidled closer to Avilio. "Alright, I'll ask, why him? Why are you suddenly so interested in a kid you barely know?"
Avilio didn't look at him, his gaze fixed on the boy. "Because some people are accidents. And some… are signs."
Tora frowned. "What do you mean?"
Avilio's jaw tightened, though he gave no answer. But inside, his mind was already unraveling threads. That mark wasn't random. He'd seen it before, in texts whispered about by men who feared them, and once, carved into the ruins he had seen as a boy.
The seal was the mark of the Balancer. And Liam, whether he knew it or not, was part of something long lost.