The fire crackled low as Kael leaned against a stone pillar in the ruined barn they'd taken shelter in. The others had long since drifted to sleep—or so they pretended. He could hear their breathing, sense the tension in the air.
Every breath was too loud in the silence.
His fingers brushed the haft of his staff, tracing the worn patterns carved into it—symbols he couldn't see, but could feel like old scars.
The wound in his side pulsed dully beneath the bandages Arinya had wrapped. Her magic had closed the skin, but pain lingered.
Not just from the blade.
From the moment.
She'd hesitated.
A whisper of wind stirred, slipping through cracks in the wood. Kael turned his face toward it. He'd always trusted the wind. It didn't lie. It carried scent, distance, danger. And right now, it carried the scent of uncertainty.
He stood, quiet as a ghost, and stepped into the moonlight outside.
The city shimmered in the far distance—silhouetted domes and towers, soft golden glow beneath a curtain of stars. A kingdom of ambition and secrets.
Doran joined him a moment later, cloak pulled tight.
"You're bleeding again," he said.
Kael didn't reply.
"She hesitated," Doran added.
Kael's silence was answer enough.
The older man rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I don't want to say it. But I'm thinking it."
"So am I."
"You think she's—"
"I don't know," Kael cut him off. "But I need to find out."
Doran folded his arms. "Because you trust her? Or because you're starting to care?"
Kael turned to him, his face unreadable. "You said it yourself. If someone sold us out… we can't afford to be blind."
A long silence stretched between them.
Then a voice drifted from inside. "I wasn't asleep."
Arinya stepped into the doorway. She didn't look surprised, or angry. Just… tired. Her eyes, usually bright, were dulled. Her soft voice barely stirred the night air.
"I know what you're thinking."
Kael didn't speak. Doran's hand hovered near his dagger. Arinya raised hers in surrender.
"I didn't betray you."
"But you knew them," Kael said. "Verdant Court. You froze when you heard the name."
"My faction," she admitted. "Or… it used to be."
Doran stepped forward. "Used to be? That's convenient."
"I broke away," she snapped, then stopped herself. Softer, "I defected. There are things I never told you. But I didn't lead them to us."
Kael tilted his head. "Then who did?"
She looked away. "I don't know. But I do know how they think. They don't give up. They'll keep coming."
"So you're dangerous to be around," Doran said.
She nodded. "I am."
Kael stepped between them. "We already knew that."
Arinya looked at him. "Do you trust me?"
He didn't answer. Not directly.
"I trust what I feel," Kael said slowly. "But that doesn't mean I won't watch your hands."
Something flickered in her eyes. Pain? Respect? Both?
She bowed her head. "That's fair."
A screech broke the air suddenly, sharp and avian. The trio tensed as a shadow circled overhead. But it was no enemy—just a bird. A large, elegant hawk, feathers silvered with moonlight.
Kael's blind eyes tracked it perfectly. "That's not a wild one."
The bird swooped low, then landed on a rock nearby, eyes gleaming. A rolled parchment was tied to its leg.
Doran retrieved it, cautious. He unrolled it, then whistled low.
"Encrypted. Underground script," he said.
Kael stepped close. "From Whisper?"
"No. This is older… it's from Harkin."
Arinya blinked. "The hermit in the Dreadhollow?"
"He's no hermit. He's an old war mage. Used to train high-end agents. One of my contacts. He doesn't write unless something's boiling."
Kael tilted his head. "And?"
Doran handed him the note. "He says the Verdant Court isn't just watching us. They're moving relic hunters across provinces. Searching for something."
Kael's voice dropped. "The staff."
Arinya stepped forward. "If the Verdant Court finds out you're bound to it…"
"They'll hunt me down and carve me open," Kael finished. "Yes. I know."
Doran added, "Then we've got to move. Harkin's inviting us to the Dreadhollow. Says he can cloak your presence better than any ward."
Kael nodded. "We go."
"But," Arinya said carefully, "that will mean crossing through Ashveil Marsh. That's Verdant Court territory."
Kael's expression darkened. "So be it."
Doran muttered something about suicidal blind men and marsh ghosts, but followed.
Back inside the barn, they began planning. Kael traced maps with his fingers. Arinya marked possible safehouses. Doran listed off former allies and possible bounty hunters along the route.
But beneath it all, Kael could feel the thread tightening.
Trust was fraying. Danger was growing.
And Arinya—beautiful, complicated Arinya—still had secrets she wasn't ready to share.
He didn't need sight to feel that much.
As the fire dimmed and the plan solidified, Kael sat quietly with the staff beside him. He listened to Arinya's voice as she debated with Doran, sharp and soft all at once.
Enemies once.
Something else now.
But for how long?
Outside, the wind carried whispers through the ruins.
Whispers of war. Of betrayal. Of fates bound to relics and hearts stretched thin by purpose.
Kael turned his head toward the stars.
And somewhere, far beyond the horizon, the Verdant Court prepared its next move.