The square still smelled of smoke and blood, thick enough to choke on, when the soldiers began moving through the crowd.
Not rushing.
Choosing.
Kaelen stood rigid, his fists clenched at his sides, watching as they dragged children forward one by one. Some were shoved, some pulled by the arm, some too afraid to resist at all.
A boy near the front tried to run.
He didn't make it three steps.
A sword took him across the back of the legs. He dropped screaming, clawing at the dirt. No one helped him. No one moved.
The soldiers didn't even look at him again.
"Stand straight," one of them barked.
Kaelen didn't move.
A hand grabbed his chin roughly, forcing his head up.
"Eyes forward."
He didn't resist.
Didn't speak.
But his eyes burned.
Elira stood close beside him, her hand brushing his sleeve, just barely. Finn leaned against her, his weight uneven, his injured leg trembling beneath him. His face had gone pale, lips pressed tight, trying not to cry.
Kaelen noticed.
The knight stepped forward again.
No armor change. No expression change.
Like nothing that had happened mattered.
"Strong ones first," he said.
The soldiers obeyed.
They began pulling older children from the group—those who looked capable, steady enough to stand, old enough to be useful. Some fought. Most didn't.
Kaelen felt the shift coming before it reached them.
"No," Elira whispered.
Finn's grip tightened on her sleeve.
A soldier stepped in front of them.
His eyes flicked over Kaelen first.
Then Elira.
Then Finn.
He paused.
Kaelen saw it.
That moment.
Judgment.
The soldier reached out and shoved Finn forward.
Finn stumbled, barely catching himself before falling.
"Stand," the soldier said.
Finn tried.
His leg buckled instantly.
He hit the ground hard, a sharp cry breaking from his throat before he could stop it.
The soldier didn't move to help him.
Didn't say anything.
He just looked back at the knight.
A small shake of the head.
Useless.
Kaelen's chest tightened.
"No," he said, stepping forward. "He can—he's just hurt, he can still—"
"Quiet."
The word cut through him.
Finn tried again, pushing himself up with shaking arms. His face twisted with pain, but he forced himself to stand—just for a second.
Then his leg gave out again.
He collapsed.
This time he didn't try to hide the sound.
"Please—" Finn gasped.
The knight looked down at him.
Not angry.
Not cruel.
Just… empty.
"Leave him," the knight said.
The soldier hesitated. "My lord—"
"Leave him."
Kaelen didn't think.
He moved.
He lunged forward, shoving past the soldier, dropping to his knees beside Finn.
"Get up," he said, grabbing his arm. "Come on, Finn, get up—"
A hand seized Kaelen's collar and yanked him back hard enough to tear him away.
"Don't touch him!"
Kaelen twisted, swinging wildly, his fist connecting with nothing but air.
"I said don't—!"
The blow came fast.
The hilt of a blade slammed into the back of his head.
Everything went white.
Kaelen dropped to the ground, the world tilting violently beneath him. Sound warped, stretched, faded into a dull ringing.
He tasted blood.
Somewhere, distantly, he heard Elira scream.
"Stop—! Please, stop!"
Kaelen forced his eyes open.
The world swam, blurred and uneven.
He saw Finn.
Still on the ground.
Still reaching.
"Kaelen…" Finn's voice was small. Weak.
A soldier stepped forward.
Kaelen tried to move.
His body didn't listen.
"No—" he choked, his voice barely there.
The sword came down.
Quick.
Clean.
Finn didn't scream.
Kaelen did.
Hands grabbed Elira as she tried to run forward. She kicked, clawed, her voice breaking into something raw and unrecognizable.
"Let me go! Let me go!"
She broke free for half a second—
just enough to take a step—
A soldier struck her.
The sound cracked through the air.
She hit the ground hard, breath knocked from her lungs.
"Stupid bitch," the man muttered.
Kaelen's vision cleared just enough for the words to land.
Something inside him snapped.
He pushed himself up, ignoring the pain screaming through his head, and lunged again—this time straight for the knight.
No plan.
No thought.
Just rage.
He didn't make it two steps.
A boot caught him in the chest, slamming him back into the dirt. The air left his lungs in a violent rush. Before he could recover, a hand grabbed his hair and forced his head down.
"Enough," the knight said.
Calm.
Unmoved.
Like none of it mattered.
Kaelen's hands clawed at the ground, dirt packing beneath his nails as he tried to pull himself forward again.
"Kill me then," he rasped.
No answer.
"Kill me!" he shouted, his voice breaking.
The knight looked at him for a long moment.
Then turned away.
"Separate them," he said.
They didn't even get to say goodbye.
Kaelen was dragged to his feet, his arms forced behind his back again. He twisted, trying to see Elira, trying to reach her.
"Elira!"
She struggled against the soldiers holding her, her face streaked with tears and blood.
"Kaelen—!"
A hand struck him across the face, snapping his head to the side.
"Quiet."
He tasted blood again.
"Move."
They were pulled apart.
Different directions.
Kaelen fought harder this time, digging his heels into the ground, twisting, trying to break free.
It didn't matter.
There were too many.
"Elira!" he shouted again, his voice hoarse, desperate.
She was already being dragged away, her arms bound, her body shaking.
Their eyes met—
just for a second.
Then she was gone.
Kaelen stopped fighting.
Not because he wanted to.
Because there was nothing left to fight.
They loaded them onto carts.
Rough wood. Splintered edges. The kind used for hauling grain or livestock—not people.
Kaelen was shoved up first, landing hard against the boards. His head spun, pain pulsing behind his eyes where the hilt had struck him. His wrists burned from the rope.
More children were thrown in beside him.
No one spoke.
Some cried quietly.
Some didn't move at all.
The carts filled quickly.
A soldier climbed up, checking the bindings, making sure no one could jump.
"Where are you taking us?" someone asked, their voice small.
No answer.
The cart lurched forward.
Kaelen leaned his head back against the wood, staring up at the sky.
It was barely visible through the smoke.
Gray.
Empty.
Brennfall disappeared behind them.
What was left of it.
Kaelen didn't look back.
He couldn't.
Not anymore.
Because now—
they were being taken somewhere worse