Favian had been helping old Nathan haul sacks of grain from the granary to the storehouse, working with the quiet stubbornness that marked his every chore. He had just heaved one over his shoulder when movement at the edge of the square caught his eye.
Darius striding toward him, Meredith walking happily at his side. And behind them… a Valiant.
The sack slipped from Favian's grasp and crashed to the ground, bursting dust into the air. His heart lurched. Instinct surged through him, like lightning under his skin. Sword or bow? he wondered, hands twitching at his sides. The Valiant was close enough now that Favian could see the golden embroidery on his cloak, the easy, noble gait they were known for.
But what stopped Favian cold was the sight of Darius.
Laughing and talking. Walking beside the Valiant as though he were an old friend.
Favian froze in utter confusion. He narrowed his eyes, waiting and watching, as the trio closed the distance. Meredith waved cheerfully. Darius gave a small grin, the kind he used when matters were complicated.
At last they stood before him.
"Favian," Darius began, placing a steadying hand on his friend's shoulder, "this is Karev. Meredith's fiancé."
Karev stepped forward with an open smile and extended his hand. Favian accepted it, though suspicion flared openly in his gaze. His grip was firm.
Karev did not seem to notice. Or perhaps he did, and merely chose not to care.
"It is an honour," Karev said warmly. "Meredith told me how you and Darius aided her parents. I'm grateful to you both."
Favian blinked, taken slightly aback by the Valiant's sincerity. The man sounded nothing like the ruthless hunters he had imagined, no sense of danger coming from his aura. Only a calm strength and a surprisingly gentle warmth.
Still, Favian kept his guard up. But he nodded and managed a polite reply.
"You're welcome. Anyone would have done the same."
Darius shot Favian a subtle glance, one of reassurance and a plea for patience.
Darius could barely contain himself. The moment the greetings settled, he turned eagerly to Favian, practically bouncing on his heels.
"Favian, you won't believe it. Karev taught me how to properly shoot an arrow!" he announced, pride swelling in his voice. "I'm telling you, I might be able to compete with you now."
Favian's eyes widened a fraction. Compete with me?
The remark came out of nowhere, and worse, it was too revealing.
Karev raised a brow, intrigued. "Oh? You're an archer as well?"
Favian shot Darius a warning look, the kind that said, You've said too much.
Darius, realising it, returned an almost pitiful glance begging, Please don't ruin this.
Karev stepped closer, genuinely interested. "I didn't know Meredith had friends with martial skill. Are you trained?"
Favian cleared his throat, smoothing out his expression with practiced calm. When he spoke, his voice was steady and measured.
"I… dabble," he said. "I'm still learning, truthfully. I've mostly trained on my own, nothing formal."
Karev smiled, apparently pleased. Whether he noticed the tension or not, he gave no sign. "That is commendable. Archery teaches patience and clarity. If you ever have the time, I'd love to see you at the training grounds."
Favian inclined his head politely. "Perhaps someday."
But as Karev turned his attention back to Meredith, Favian leaned ever so slightly toward Darius and muttered under his breath: "What is wrong with you?"
Darius replied with a guilty stare of dread.
Karev eventually turned to Meredith's parents, greeting them with the same warm ease he had shown Meredith. Nathan, who had been watching him closely since the moment he arrived, finally spoke, loud enough for Karev to hear, but louder still for everyone around them.
"You are a fine gentleman," Nathan declared with pride, giving Karev a firm pat on the back. "Truly perfect for our daughter. Respectful, capable, devoted. We couldn't have asked for better."
Meredith's mother nodded, glowing. "He treats her like a treasure."
Darius felt the words like blows.
Each praise seemed to dig into him. He dropped his gaze, pretending to dust something off his tunic, anything to hide the twist of pain tightening his chest. He knew Meredith wasn't his. But hearing her parents speak so fondly of Karev, seeing her smile up at the Valiant with that soft, hopeful glimmer…
It throbbed.
Favian noticed immediately. He didn't say a word, but let out a quiet exhale and shook his head slowly, a mixture of pity and warning.
You poor, lost lad, his expression seemed to say. This path only ends in ruin.
Before Darius could compose himself, a sudden stir rippled across the marketplace.
At first it was just faint murmuring, like the sound of a distant stream. But it grew louder, until conversations broke off mid-sentence. Heads turned. Stalls went quiet. Even the livestock tethered nearby seemed to sense the shift, snorting nervously.
Darius, Karev, Favian, and Meredith's family all turned toward the commotion.
Down the road, a line of black-cloaked Valiants advanced in formation. Their steps were slow but deliberate, boots striking the ground with heavy, unified thuds. Between them, two men stumbled forward, bound in chains. Their wrists bruised raw, their faces swollen and streaked with dried blood. The prisoners' clothes were torn, their bodies sagging in exhaustion and defeat.
Behind the escort walked two elite Valiants, clad in immaculate white cloaks that fluttered like banners behind them. Their fingers were interlocked— an insignia of rank and unity, heads held high with stern, unyielding pride. They were symbols of authority in its purest form.
A hush fell for a breath, and then, the crowd erupted.
"Filthy traitors!" someone yelled.
Another man threw a stone that struck one of the prisoners on the shoulder. The man flinched but didn't fall; the Valiant beside him yanked the chain as punishment.
"Bless the Valiants!" an elderly woman cried, bowing her head. "May the Empire reward you for capturing such vermin!"
More voices joined with anger, disgust, relief and fervent gratitude. The market seethed with emotion.
Darius felt a chill crawl across his skin. Favian stiffened beside him. Karev's jaw tightened, eyes narrowing slightly as he studied the prisoners.
Favian and Darius exchanged an uneasy glance. Neither needed to speak, the same dread flashed in both their eyes. The crowd's cheers, the jeers, the thrown stones…
They turned back toward the mob just as another roar of approval surged through it. Someone shouted that the prisoners should be dragged through the streets. Another demanded their immediate execution. The frenzy of hatred was rising, and Favian felt a knot coil in his stomach.
Quietly, he shifted his gaze to Karev.
He needed to know if the Valiant had noticed their reaction? Had he sensed the fear trembling beneath their skins? A single suspicious glance from Karev could unravel everything.
But Karev wasn't watching them.
His eyes were fixed ahead, on the line of black-cloaked Valiants marching the prisoners through the street. His expression was hard and unreadable. No flare of joy for the capture, no triumph. Just a severe, unwavering focus.
If there was anything in his look at all, it was mere professional disdain. The kind Valiants often wore when dealing with criminals, heretics, or anyone the Empire deemed a stain upon its pride.
Favian exhaled slowly through his nose.
Good. He hasn't sensed anything… yet.
But the relief was shallow. The sight of the chained men, their broken bodies and empty eyes, sent a warning shiver down his spine.
That could be us, he realised. All it would take is one misstep. One careless word. One glance held too long.
His jaw tightened.
He silently vowed to keep his guard higher than ever. Karev may have been kind, may have smiled, may have taught Darius how to shoot, but he was still a Valiant. And Valiants were hunters by blood and oath.
Hunters of people like them.
Favian swallowed hard.
The procession halted at the centre of the market, where a raised wooden platform stood for public announcements. The murmuring crowd fell gradually into silence as one of the white-cloaked Valiants stepped forward. His cloak gleamed like pale fire beneath the morning sun, trimmed with gold that marked him as one of the Empire's most elite.
He raised a gloved hand, and the entire marketplace obeyed. Conversations died mid-sentence. Even children quieted.
The Valiant's voice, when it came, was clear and resonant.
"People of Sadnon," he declared, his gaze sweeping over the crowd with effortless authority. "Before you stand two traitors to the Empire. Truthers who dared defy the lawful order of His Radiant Majesty."
Boos and curses erupted from every corner of the market. The Valiant waited, unbothered, until the noise softened again.
"These men," he continued, "are guilty of spreading forbidden doctrine, of resisting the rightful dominion of the Anasonian Empire, and of attacking our brothers who sought to bring them to justice."
One of the battered prisoners lifted his head, eyes wild, lips moving as if to speak, but a black-cloaked Valiant behind him struck him down with the hilt of a blade, silencing him instantly.
Gasps rippled through the onlookers, some shocked, most satisfied.
The white-cloaked Valiant resumed as if nothing had happened.
"They will be taken to Almeroth tonight, where they will face trial and judgment according to Imperial Law. Let this be a reminder to all: deceit and rebellion will be rooted out, wherever it hides."
He lifted his hand once more, palm outward with a gesture of finality.
"Trust in the Empire. Trust in the Valiants. We guard you so that peace may endure."
A thunderous cheer rose, drowning out the prisoners' laboured breathing. People applauded, shouted praises, and some even bowed as the Valiants resumed their march.
Favian stood rigid, heart pounding against his ribs. Darius, beside him, could barely breathe.
Karev, still unaware of the storm inside the pair, watched the procession pass with the same cold, professional stare.
The captured Truthers disappeared around a corner, swallowed by the noise of the celebration that followed.
And just like that, the market returned to life.
Meredith touched Darius gently on the arm, unaware of the dread locking his muscles.
"Come," she said softly. "My mother will need help arranging the last of the goods."
Darius nodded wordlessly and followed her through the dispersing crowd, his steps heavy though he tried to hide it.
Favian watched them go, watched the way Darius drifted after her without a thought, watched the lingering flush on his friend's face, and the trouble clouding his eyes.
He exhaled slowly through his nose.
She may be a problem for us, he thought grimly. A sweet smile… and an anchor that will drag him straight into danger.