Evening had deepened while they were below.
The light outside the chapel had shifted—no longer the dull silver of overcast day, but a richer, heavier dusk. Torches had been lit in the upper corridors, their flames casting long amber stripes across the stone floor. The air was cooler now, touched with the scent of iron and lavender smoke from the western watchtower's braziers.
Veyra stepped out first, her pace brisk despite the weight in her shoulders. The silence between her and Liora was thick, but not strained. Just full—layered with too much unspoken to unpack in a single breath.
A guard stood posted at the chapel entry, his posture stiffening when he saw them emerge.
Veyra didn't slow. "Relay a message to the General," she said. "Tell him I need to speak with him. Before anything reaches the Circle."
"Yes, Commander," the guard replied, already turning.
Liora walked a pace behind her, fingers still loosely curled at her side. The halls felt narrower now, as though the truth beneath the chapel had warped something invisible in the stone above.
Neither of them spoke as they passed the outer war chamber. The high arches and narrow windows of the keep caught what little light remained, casting long shadows across Veyra's uniform and the soft folds of Liora's tunic. The wind outside had picked up—cooler, pulling through the high tower vents with a low, keening sound.
It wasn't until they turned the curve toward the west hall—where the healer's den lay tucked against the barracks—that the silence broke.
Not by words.
By sound.
A crash. The clatter of metal. A voice—rough, furious, echoing into the corridor.
"Whoever did this—I'll gut them myself."
Veyra's eyes sharpened. Her stride turned to a near-run.
Liora followed on instinct, heart climbing into her throat.
The healer's door stood open, light spilling into the dim hallway. Veyra pushed inside without pause.
The room was warm, heavy with the scent of herbs and sweat and oil-soaked cloth. Cots lined one wall, a small shelf of tinctures half-raided nearby. The space was tense, alive with motion.
Kellen still lay on the nearest cot, pale, half-covered in bandages.
Beside him—hand clasped around his with fierce protectiveness—stood Deyla.
Her posture was a storm barely held back. Pale braid mussed, leathers travel-dirty, one gauntlet still on, she looked ready to kill with her bare hands. A metal tray lay upended on the floor, scattered with rolls of bandage and a pair of gleaming bone shears.
"If he'd died—" Deyla was saying, teeth bared, "I don't care what house they're from—I'd have burned it to ash."
"Deyla," Veyra snapped.
Deyla looked up, nostrils flared, pulse visibly ticking beneath her jaw.
"Commander," she said, breath catching. "I came straight back. The gate guard told me what happened. I didn't stop. I brought them with me—"
"Them?" Veyra asked, voice already taut.
Liora was still frozen just inside the threshold.
A voice—soft, familiar, tentative—rose from near the door.
At first, Veyra didn't see them. Her eyes were on Kellen—on Deyla gripping his hand, her voice thick with fury and grief. The space beyond the bed was shadowed, quieter. Only when a soft voice spoke—tentative, familiar—did the rest of the room shift into focus.
"…Liora?"
The name came like a thread pulled loose.
Liora turned sharply. Her breath caught.
"Talan?"
Against the doorway wall half in the lamplight, stood three figures. One of them stepped forward—an Omega, slightly shorter than the others, with soft auburn hair pulled back in a loose braid. Her eyes were warm, stunned, brimming with something old and unspoken.
"I thought you were still in Stillwater wood…" Liora began, then broke off. Her voice steadied. "How did you get here? Why are you with… them? Who are they?"
Talan hesitated, then turned slightly—as if offering space for the others to step forward. "It's a long story…"
The woman beside her was taller, broad-shouldered but composed, her stance relaxed but purposeful. Blonde hair fell in long, straight locks over a green-and-gold underlayer, a few strands braided back from her face in precise, ceremonial fashion. Her armor was shaped of dark leather, fitted but practical, and her silver cloak clasp shimmered faintly in the lamplight.
She looked every bit the envoy—elegant, unshaken, and clearly used to silence.
Her eyes found Liora's, assessing—but not unkind.
When she spoke, her voice was low and level. "I am Sylra Mylen. Eldranis envoy and first blade of our northern border patrols."
Veyra's gaze sharpened.
"And the third?" she asked.
From behind Sylra, a slender man stepped forward. He bore the lighter robes of a court speaker, pale gold and moss-toned, his scent subtle and hard to place. Beta. His demeanor was reserved, his expression alert, and his posture deferent—not to Vaereth's chain of command, but to Sylra's.
"I serve as translator and court liaison for Eldranis," he said. "My name is Halwen."
Veyra's jaw worked silently a moment. Then she looked to Deyla. "These are the envoys?"
Deyla nodded, not letting go of Kellen's hand. Her voice was gruff. "Found them on the Ember Hollow trail. Wasn't easy to track them—took longer than I liked. But we met just north of the rise. I was bringing them in when the south watch told me what happened to Kellen."
Her voice cracked slightly. She squeezed and didn't let go of his hand.
"I brought them here because I wasn't going to waste another breath before seeing him. I didn't even tell the gate officers. Just—came."
"I was so scared for you…" Talan said quietly.
Veyra's expression shifted—subtle, but unmistakably alert. Something unspoken passed behind her eyes as she looked again at the envoy, then to Liora.
And this time, it wasn't just surprise. It was recognition.
That Liora had a life before all this.
And not even Veyra had seen all of it.
"You should speak in the hall," Veyra spoke in a soft voice despite the ache this recognition made her feel. "Go catch up."
She turned to Sylra. "Your formal welcome will have to wait."
Sylra gave a subtle nod. "We did not come for ceremony, Commander Halvarin. We came because we have been told something is wrong."
Veyra met her eyes. "On that, we agree."
Liora lingered a moment longer, eyes flicking between Veyra, Deyla, and the envoys. Then she turned back to Talan.
"…Will you walk with me? Just for a moment."
Talan gave a small nod, relief softening her posture. "Of course."
The two Omegas slipped quietly from the room, the flicker of lamplight catching the silver front clasp at Liora's collar as she passed the threshold. Sylra's eyes followed briefly, unreadable. Halwen stepped aside with practiced deference, letting the door hush closed behind them.
Inside, Veyra moved closer.
Deyla still knelt beside Kellen, jaw tight, hand wrapped around his with an iron grip. His breathing was shallow but steady, bandages clean and tight around his side.
Veyra crouched beside her slowly. "Deyla."
Deyla didn't look up right away.
Her other hand hovered just above his brow—fingers curled, shaking slightly.
"I should've been here," she muttered. "I should've been the one beside him. Not off chasing envoys or playing border scout."
"You were doing what I asked," Veyra said quietly.
"I know," Deyla snapped. Then her voice broke. "I know. Doesn't make it easier."
Veyra didn't respond at first. She reached out instead, resting her hand briefly on Deyla's shoulder—not command, not instruction. Just presence.
"He saved her," Deyla whispered after a moment. "Of course he did. Took the blade like it meant nothing. That idiot. That brave, loyal idiot."
Her voice cracked again. She let out a breath through her teeth, jaw clenched.
Veyra let the silence sit between them.
"He's alive," she said finally, "Liora was able to fight off the assailant. And you got the envoys here—safe. It matters. Whatever happens next, we need them."
Deyla didn't move, but her shoulders eased. Just slightly.
Veyra stood again. "He'll wake. He's too stubborn not to."
Deyla exhaled a bitter half-laugh, wiping at her face with the back of her wrist. "Yeah. You're not wrong."
Outside, faint footsteps echoed down the corridor—Liora and Talan walking slowly through the quiet halls, voices hushed.
Veyra looked toward the door, then back to Kellen's still form.
—
The door clicked shut behind them with a muted thud, sealing off the sharp scent of blood and tension inside.
Outside, the corridor felt cooler—lit only by a line of sconces burning low behind thick glass. The long stone walls stretched into quiet, the sound of their steps softened by worn runners along the floor. It was evening now. The last of the sunset filtered through a high, narrow window, casting a fading stripe of gold across the flagstones.
Talan walked beside her in silence at first.
Liora kept her arms loosely folded, but not defensive. Just full. Her breath was steady, but her thoughts weren't.
After a while, it was Liora who spoke.
"I thought I'd never see you again."
Talan glanced over, something fragile flickering across her face. "I didn't think I would either."
There was another pause. Then Liora laughed, quiet and wry. "You were always the one who warned me not to run off. You said I'd die if I tried. Remember that?"
Talan winced. "Yes. I do."
"You made it sound like I'd barely make it past the village road without being dragged into some Alpha camp or sold to a caravan runner."
"You were young," Talan said, voice soft. "Smaller than you are now. And stubborn."
"I still am," Liora said. "Smaller and stubborn."
That earned a faint smile. Talan looked ahead, eyes catching the lines of a distant arch.
"I didn't say those things because I didn't believe you could survive. I just… I knew what was out there. And what the world does to Omegas who don't belong to someone."
Liora's expression didn't shift, but her voice gentled. "I know."
"And I couldn't follow then. I didn't have the means. Or the courage, maybe."
"But you're here now," Liora murmured.
Talan nodded once.
"Eldranis is different," she said. "They protect their own. I made it there—barely. I was sick when I arrived. Sylra found me, and Halwen helped me recover. And once I was well enough, they let me stay. Learn. Heal."
Liora looked over at her. "And now you're here… with her."
Talan followed her gaze inward, where the tall figure of Sylra still stood beyond the door.
"She's not like them," Talan said. "Not the Alphas we grew up fearing. She's sharp, strict, yes—but never cruel. She believes in diplomacy, not domination."
Liora's brow drew slightly. "You trust her."
"With my life."
They paused at the end of the hall near a small alcove where a narrow window spilled faint orange light onto the sill. Liora leaned a hand there, gazing briefly at the view of the outer courtyard.
She spoke more quietly now. "Everything's shifting. Faster than I can keep up."
Talan leaned beside her. "But you're still standing."
Liora let out a breath. "Sometimes I think that's the bravest thing I do."
There was a small silence. Then Talan nudged her shoulder gently.
"You look different, you know."
"Oh?"
Talan smiled again. "You used to be all scraped knees and pride. Now you look like you belong to something."
Liora blinked. "To someone, you mean?"
"No," Talan said. "Not someone. Something."
Liora didn't answer right away.
But her gaze shifted—toward the closed door behind them, the spot she knew the woman inside crouched beside a friend's sickbed with blood still drying at the cuff of her sleeve.
Then, softly, she said, "Maybe I do."
—
The chamber had quieted, save for the soft rustle of linens and the faint scrape of boot against stone.
Deyla's breathing was still uneven as she sat at Kellen's side, her fingers curled loosely around his hand. His chest rose shallow but steady beneath the pale sheet, a faint sweat still clinging to his brow. He hadn't stirred.
Veyra crouched beside her.
"Come on. He's stable," she said gently, not to placate, but to ground.
Deyla swallowed hard, her jaw still tight. "He shouldn't have had to take that blow."
"No," Veyra agreed. "But he did. Because he chose to protect her. And because that's what we do."
Deyla shut her eyes for a moment. Then, after a breath, she let go of Kellen's hand—slowly, reverently—and set it back at his side.
"He's going to be furious when he wakes up," she muttered. "He was not awake for the grand meeting with the mysterious envoys."
"I'll make sure you're the one who tells him."
A faint snort. "Cruel."
But it drew the corner of Deyla's mouth upward, even if only for a breath.
She rose stiffly, shaking out her arms. Her braid had come loose, and a streak of ash still clung to her collar. She turned to the door—and that was when her gaze finally settled fully on the envoys, who had remained quietly near the wall.
Veyra turned with her, straightening as well. The weight of the moment shifted.
The remaining two envoys stood in quiet attention.
Veyra stepped forward, slow and deliberate.
"You've come far," she said.
Sylra inclined her head. "Far, and fast. Deyla said it was urgent."
"She didn't understate it," Veyra said. "Your arrival may mark the beginning of answers we've long lacked."
Deyla gave a short, low breath behind her. "They didn't argue. I found them near Ember Hollow and told them what happened."
Sylra added smoothly, "We had already planned to return with your envoy. The incident merely made the need clearer."
Veyra gave a short nod of acknowledgment, then gestured toward the door.
"Let's speak outside."
Sylra stepped aside to allow Halwen through first, and Deyla followed last, her hand brushing the doorframe in passing—as if reluctant to leave Kellen fully behind.
Veyra waited by the threshold, gaze flicking down the corridor where Liora and Talan had disappeared. A faint murmur of their voices could still be heard if one listened closely.
Then she stepped out into the hall after the others, the door clicking quietly behind her.
They stood in the corridor just beyond the door, torches low in their brackets as dusk folded into evening. The stone walls of the keep held the warmth of the day, but the air was cooling now—quiet, uncertain. Liora and Talan made their way back toward the emerged group.
Veyra turned to face them fully.
"What you were told," she said, "about meeting a representative of Fort Dalen—was false."
Sylra's eyes narrowed slightly. "False how?"
"There was no sanctioned envoy sent to meet you," Veyra said evenly. "You were intercepted, and fooled."
She didn't soften it. Her voice remained flat, but the words hit like a thrown gauntlet.
Halwen's brow furrowed. "Intercepted—by whom?"
Veyra shook her head once. "We're still uncovering that. But the name on the manifest was forged. The patrol that should have been stationed at Karsen Vale was pulled back on a fabricated order. The route was cleared for a smuggling operation—illegal goods, unregistered movement, and someone hoping to strike a deal behind the council's back."
Sylra's voice was quieter now. "That would be a declaration of treason. A move provocative of civil war in your borders, and an operation dangerous to our own if true."
"It is," Veyra said. "And someone on the Circle Council within these walls has enabled it."
The silence that followed was sharp.
Sylra folded her arms slowly, her expression unreadable. Halwen looked toward Deyla, then back to Veyra. Only Talan showed emotion—a brief flicker of disbelief, brows furrowed.
"Then why bring us here?" Sylra asked.
"Because someone else would've brought you regardless," Veyra replied. "And you wouldn't have known who or what you were dealing with until it was far too late."
Halwen spoke softly, "And you expect us to trust that you speak for Fort Dalen now?"
"No," Veyra said, "I expect you to see for yourself."
Her gaze flicked past them, toward the winding staircases leading deeper into the keep. "We have evidence. A smuggling trail. A hidden passage beneath the foundation of this very stronghold—older than any current record and buried with the intent to never be found again."
Sylra's voice was thoughtful, not dismissive. "And you've walked it?"
"We did more than walk it," Veyra said. "We saw what was sealed. What was meant to be forgotten. And we'll show you—when you're ready."
Talan's voice broke in then, quiet but clear: "We're ready."
Veyra's eyes met hers, holding steady for a breath.
"First, you should rest," she said. "And eat. I'm sure the road here was long, and what comes next won't be easy."
She turned slightly, then paused.
"After that, I'll take you below. I trust that you come with good intentions." Her eyes darted to Talan and her irrefutable close standing with Liora. "It seems we have mutual friends."