The next evening, the riders sat in the village square. A fire crackled in the middle, and a few villagers tried to act calm, though their eyes kept flicking to the strangers.
Ardyn walked straight toward them. His steps were slow, steady. Mira trailed behind, nervous, wringing her hands. Elira called for her daughter, but Mira ignored her.
Rowan, the scarred captain, noticed Ardyn coming and leaned back against the bench. His men shifted, resting their hands near their belts, though they did not draw steel.
Ardyn stopped at the edge of the firelight. "You're not travelers."
Rowan's mouth curved in a faint smile. "Bold words, boy. What makes you so sure?"
"Travelers look tired. Your boots are polished. Your horses are war-bred. And you watch everyone as if weighing threats."
The younger rider bristled. "Watch your tongue. You don't know who you're talking to."
Ardyn's eyes flicked to him, calm and sharp. "Then tell me. Who am I talking to?"
The man's mouth opened, but Rowan raised a hand to silence him. The captain's smile faded, leaving only steel in his voice. "We are men of Lord Darius. We heard talk of… a boy with strange eyes. A boy who fought off bandits alone."
The fire popped loudly. Villagers went still, listening.
Rowan leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Ardyn. "Tell me, boy. Are you that child?"
Ardyn didn't flinch. "If I said yes, what would you do?"
The younger rider barked a laugh. "Take you with us. Make you answer to the Lord himself."
Mira gasped, but Ardyn raised a hand, quieting her. He kept his eyes on Rowan. "And if I said no?"
Rowan's face was unreadable. "Then we stay. We watch. And sooner or later, the truth shows itself."
The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the crackling fire. Finally, Ardyn stepped closer, into the light, his silver eyes catching every gaze.
"You came looking for a weapon," he said softly, voice steady. "But I'm not your weapon. Not his. Not anyone's."
The younger soldier sneered. "You think you have a choice? You're just a boy—"
In an instant, Ardyn moved. Not an attack—just a step forward. His presence hit like a wave, a weight that pressed into the riders' chests. The firelight flickered strangely, as though bending toward him.
The young soldier's hand twitched toward his sword, but Rowan snapped, "Don't."
Rowan's eyes locked with Ardyn's. For a long moment, neither spoke. Then the captain slowly rose to his feet.
"You're dangerous," Rowan said quietly. "Too dangerous for a child. But you're right… you're not ours. Not yet."
He turned, motioning to his men. "We'll report to Lord Darius. He'll decide what happens next."
Ardyn's reply was soft, but it carried through the square. "Then tell your lord this: if he comes to take me, he should bring more than three men."
Gasps rippled through the villagers. Mira stared at Ardyn, wide-eyed, caught between fear and awe.
Rowan paused, studying the boy once more. Then he gave a small, almost respectful nod. "So be it."
The riders left the square, their boots striking the ground in perfect rhythm, like a drumbeat of war yet to come.