The fire crackled low in the ruined barn, casting shadows that danced across broken beams and dusty straw. The air smelled of ash and old wood. Outside, the night stretched silent, save for the distant howl of wolves.
Adrian sat near the flames, his mind replaying the blood and fire of Valmyria. Serenya leaned against him, fast asleep at last, her small breaths steady. For a moment, peace felt possible.
But three figures still lingered with him—strangers, yet not entirely.
Kaelen leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his bow resting by his side. His sharp eyes scanned every corner, every creak of the barn. He moved like a man who never let his guard down.
Lyra lounged on a pile of sacks, twirling a silver coin between her fingers. The firelight caught the mischief in her smirk. She looked too relaxed for someone who had just escaped death.
Finn, the youngest, sat cross-legged near the flames, hugging his knees. His eyes were wide with excitement every time he glanced at Adrian, like a boy watching a storybook hero step into reality.
Adrian finally broke the silence.
"Why follow me? You could've left after the square. You owe me nothing."
Kaelen's gaze didn't move from the shadows. "Owe? Maybe not. But I saw what you did. One moment the soldiers had us surrounded, the next… nothing. Their blades lost edge, their courage vanished. I've never seen power like that." He turned his eyes to Adrian, sharp as an arrow. "Men like you change wars. Or end them."
Adrian frowned. "And you think following me will end yours?"
Kaelen's lips pressed into a thin line. He didn't answer. Instead, he picked up his bow and ran his thumb along the string. The look in his eyes said enough: he'd lost something. Someone. And he refused to lose again.
Lyra chuckled softly. "Tense, isn't he? Don't mind Kaelen. He talks like a wall but shoots straighter than anyone I've met." She flipped the coin high, caught it, and leaned forward with a grin. "Me? I follow curiosity. A man erasing soldiers with a thought? That's a tale worth sticking around for. And maybe profitable."
Her eyes glimmered. "Or maybe dangerous. I like both."
Adrian met her gaze, unamused. "So you'll sell me out if the price is right?"
Lyra smiled wider. "Depends who's buying."
Before Adrian could reply, Finn nearly bounced to his feet. "No one's selling anyone! Don't listen to her. I know what I saw back there. You're not just some noble running from fire—you're… different. You can protect people. Change things!"
Adrian studied the boy. "Change what?"
Finn's voice trembled, but his eyes burned with belief. "Everything. The Empire. The way nobles trample the weak. My family… they—" He cut himself short, gripping his knees tighter. "I don't want to see anyone else crushed."
For a moment, silence returned. Only the crackling fire spoke.
Adrian closed his eyes. Part of him wanted to push them all away. Strangers meant risk. Strangers meant betrayal. But Serenya stirred softly in his lap, and he thought of the road ahead. He couldn't walk it alone.
When he opened his eyes again, he looked at each of them in turn.
"Then hear me. I don't know where this path leads. I don't promise safety. I don't promise victory. But if you stay… you follow me not as mercenaries, not as dreamers, but as comrades. Agreed?"
Kaelen gave a short nod. "Comrades, then."
Lyra smirked, flicking her coin once more before pocketing it. "Fine. Comrades. But if you get yourself killed, don't expect me to cry."
Finn beamed, fists clenched with determination. "I'll follow you anywhere!"
Adrian allowed the faintest smile to form. For the first time since the flames consumed Valmyria, he didn't feel entirely alone.
But deep within his chest, the mark of the Null Sigil pulsed faintly, like an ember stirring awake. A reminder: power draws not only allies—but enemies.
And the Empire was already hunting.