The forest shimmered in the dim glow of twilight as the group of five made their way back toward Pompom Village. The journey from Glenhill had been quiet, the kind of quiet that held too many unspoken questions. Larielle took the lead, her bow slung over her shoulder, eyes alert. The others trailed behind in reflective silence, their minds still lingering on the cryptic words of the sage.
Solis walked with his gaze lowered, gripping the sword gifted by Commander Cassandra. He hadn't yet made sense of the sage's last words, but they stirred something inside him—an unease, or perhaps, a warning.
As the shadows thickened, Larielle finally stopped and turned to the group. "It's getting dark. We'll set up camp here for the night."
The group nodded. The small clearing Larielle had chosen was nestled between trees with enough open space for tents and a campfire. With practiced ease, Ada and Razille worked together to erect the tents. Vaidya laid out blankets while Solis collected firewood.
Before long, the fire crackled softly, casting flickering amber light on their faces. They shared a simple meal, mostly bread and dried meat, and took turns keeping watch. The forest around them was calm, but every snap of twig and flutter of wings seemed heavier tonight.
One by one, they retreated into their tents. Solis shared his with Vaidya, though sleep didn't come easily. He tossed and turned, his mind weighed by dreams that blurred reality with memory. He saw Tedric again, standing in front of a collapsing wall of smoke and fire, his hand stretched out, mouth forming words Solis couldn't hear.
With a gasp, Solis awoke, drenched in sweat. The fire had died down to embers. Carefully, he sat up, grabbed his sword, and quietly stepped out of the tent.
The night air was cool, laced with the scent of pine and damp leaves. Solis breathed it in, trying to clear his thoughts. He didn't go far, just enough to feel away from the dreams. As he stepped past a cluster of mossy stones, he caught a flicker of movement among the underbrush.
Instinctively, his hand fell to his sword's hilt.
"Oh!" a voice whispered. "It's you. You scared the hell out of me."
Solis relaxed. "Razille?"
She emerged from behind a tree, holding a small satchel and crouching near a cluster of blue-stemmed plants. "Yeah, it's me. Picking some herbs. You know how it is."
He chuckled lightly. "Doesn't it seem like a déjà vu?"
Razille smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "You mean sneaking around in the woods, catching each other off guard? Definitely a recurring theme."
They both climbed a low, sturdy tree nearby, finding a comfortable spot on one of the branches. The night seemed less intimidating from up there. The moon peeked through the canopy, bathing them in a soft glow. Leaves rustled softly in the wind, and for a moment, the world was quiet—just the two of them sitting above the ground, surrounded by the breath of the forest.
Razille tucked her knees in and looked over at Solis. "You know… I never thought I'd find peace sitting on a tree with someone after everything that's happened."
Solis glanced at her, a small smile on his lips. "It's strange how calm the world can seem when we're not fighting monsters or dealing with ancient veils and cryptic sages."
She chuckled, a soft sound that drifted into the night air. "Or deciphering riddles from old hermits who think playing games will determine whether the world deserves saving."
Razille looked over at Solis, examining his expressions. "So, how did you answer that last riddle? We were all stumped."
Solis leaned back against the trunk. "My dad. He loved riddles. Used to test me all the time. At first, I hated it. Then, I started to enjoy figuring them out. He always said, 'The best sword isn't always steel. Sometimes, it's your mind.'"
Her gaze softened. "I'm sorry about your father."
He nodded. "It's okay. He died protecting his village. Just like Instructor Tedric did for us. I just... I keep thinking if I could've done something. Something that could have changed how that day ended."
Razille touched his shoulder gently. "Hey, do you think it was your fault?"
Solis hesitated. "No. But every time I replay that moment in my head, I wonder. Was there something I missed? A second too slow? A step I could've taken?"
"None of us could've changed that outcome," she said softly. "Tedric made his choice. He saved us. And that... that matters."
"So stop asking yourself this stupid questions. Tedric did that for us.... for the future of Postknights. He has entrusted us the future of it. So we must fulfill his wish." She continued.
Solis shifted slightly on the branch, the bark cool beneath his fingers. Hoping to lift the mood after their earlier conversation, he glanced sideways at Razille and asked gently, "So… tell me, what's your family like? I mean, what kind of people are your parents?"
The change in her expression was immediate. The subtle brightness in her eyes dimmed, like clouds passing in front of the moon. Her body stilled, her fingers nervously brushing a leaf beside her.
"I… I don't know," she murmured, eyes fixed on some point far below.
Solis blinked. "What do you mean by that?"
"I've never seen my mother," Razille said, her voice distant, almost hollow. "Maybe she's… not here anymore. I don't even know her name. She's just a blank in my story."
She paused, her jaw tightening slightly.
"The only one I had was my father," she continued, "but he was taken to prison when I was still small. For what reason? No one would ever tell me. They just whispered behind closed doors, changed the subject when I asked."
Solis felt a lump rise in his throat. "So you grew up in Caldemount's orphanage then?"
Razille nodded slowly. "Yeah. It wasn't the worst place, but it wasn't a home either. Just a roof, food, and a lot of days wondering why I was there in the first place."
He was silent for a moment, taking in her words. "I'm… sorry. That must have been really hard for you."
She turned to look at him, and for a brief second, it seemed like she was about to say something—something that had been waiting behind her lips for a long time. But whatever it was, she held it back. Her gaze lingered on his, then dropped.
Instead of speaking, she let out a long breath and leaned back against the trunk, her shoulders relaxing slightly. Solis didn't push her. He simply sat beside her, letting the silence stretch.
The two of them remained there, quiet, not out of awkwardness but understanding. The chirping of crickets rose around them, a soft, rhythmic lullaby. In the distance, an owl hooted, its voice echoing gently through the trees. The forest felt alive—but peaceful, as though nature itself had leaned in to listen and was respectfully giving them space.
Above, the moon continued its slow arc across the sky, casting silver light through the leaves, bathing the two young Postknights in a moment that was both quiet and full of things unsaid.
Suddenly, a rustle in the bushes below them snapped them to attention.
Solis unsheathed his sword silently. Razille froze.
Another rustle. A low grunt.
They exchanged a glance.
"Wake the others," Solis whispered.
Razille nodded and climbed down swiftly while Solis remained perched, eyes scanning the shadows beneath the trees.
The night had just taken a darker turn.