The fire crackled, sending flickering shadows dang along the trees. The air carried the lingering chill of nightfall, yet the warmth of the fmes offered a small farett sat on a fallen log, his polearm resting against his shoulder, while Lyra k nearby, carefully casting healing magito his wounds.

  Nyx perched on a low branch, her golden eyes unblinking as she observed the se, no longer openly hostile but still wary.

  Garett let out a low exhale and reached up to his greathelm. With a quiet hiss of metal, he lifted it free, revealing his face for the first time.

  His sharp features were illuminated by the firelight—strong jawline, high cheekbones, and pierg blue eyes that seemed to catd reflect the fmes. His dark hair, cut in a yered wolfish style, framed his face with a rugged yet posed elegance.

  Lyra, caught off guard, found herself staring for a fra of a sed too long. A warmth bloomed in her chest, though she swiftly crushed it, shaking her head as if clearihoughts.

  “Finally taking that thing off?” she quipped, keepione light.

  Garett smirked. “Needed some air.”

  Lyra turned her focus back to tending his wounds.“Healing magic is not my stro suit.” She admitted.“This will help.” Garrett procured a small vial from one of his pockets. Inside is a liquid with a shade of crimson. He poured droplets of it into his injuries.

  As she worked, a thought surfaced. “That potion you drank back there—the Ramvarg potion. I’ve read about it before. Isn’t it made from Ramvarg meat?”

  Garett gave a shh. “That’s a isception,” he said. “Ramvargs are sacred to Fenrisians; we don’t sughter them for their meat. The potion is actually made from Ramvarg milk, along with fermented hex paste and a blend of spices to enhaamina, strength, and agility.”

  Lyra blinked. “Fermented hex paste?”

  He nodded. “It’s an acquired taste.”

  Lyra made a face. “Sounds vile.”

  “You get used to it,” he said with a shrug. “After the first ten times.”

  A fortable siletled between them before Lyra spoke again. “Ba the cave, your barrier fred up before you could react. That was the tri you were wearing on your side, right?”

  Garett nodded. Holding the devi his hand. It’s still in its experimental stages. The drive is attuo my presence, predig ining threats and responding accly.”

  Lyra frowned, intrigued. “How does it work?”

  Garett sidered for a moment. “Think of magic as probability manipution. A spellcaster is like a calcutor—projeg a specific will onto a probability space. Magic allows reality to colpse around that will, pleting the spell.”

  Lyra’s lips parted slightly. “So the Azeroth Drive funs as an automatic calcutor?”

  “In a way,” Garett firmed. “It’s desigo anticipate and ter threats within a given range of outes. And well…I’ve yet to test out more ventional spells.”

  Lyra hummed in thought. “I never quite thought of magic that way before.”

  Garett g her, amused. “What, you thought it was just waving your hands and hoping for the best?”

  She huffed. “Of course not. But the idea of probability colpse—it makes sense.”

  Nyx flicked her tail, her watchful gaze shiftiween them as the versation drifted into a fortable lull.

  By the time they settled for the night, the forest around them was still, the stars above stretg endlessly into the deep expanse of the sky. As Lyra y on her bedroll, she fouhoughts lingering on the man across the fire—on the way his blue eyes gleamed uhe firelight, on the way his words carried a quiet certainty.

  She shook her head. There was no time for distras.

  Tomorrow, they will reach Vallorien.

  The m arrived with a crisp chill, dew ging to the grass as the first rays of sunlight peeked through the opy. Garett and Lyra packed up their camp iive silence, both still waking from the lingering haze of sleep. Nyx stretched her wings zily before settling on Lyra’s shoulder, watg the m unfold with a regal air.

  By midday, they reached Vallorien, its t walls rising against the skylihe city’s gates were bustling with merts, adventurers, and guards, all moving in a stant flow of activity.

  At the Adventurer’s Guild, they turned in the Manticore’s paroof of the hunt. The guild clerk barely raised an eyebrow as he hahem their reward—a hefty pouch of .

  “Effit work,” he muttered before shuffling off to aask.

  Lyra pocketed her share, while Garett did the same without a word. As they turo leave, a familiar voice cut through the air like a warhorn.

  “GARETT FENRALIS!”

  Lyra barely had time to react before a golden-haired storm in the shape of a woman desded upon them with the force of a divine reing. Leona Leonis, in all her intimidating, armlory, stood irance of the guildhall, her blue eyes bzing with righteous fury.

  “Do you have ANY idea the NIGHTMARE you put me through?” she fumed, stomping towards him with enough preseo make lesser men scatter. “I spent the ENTIRE night c for you, making excuses, LYING, because someone decided to go gallivanting in the wilderness without so much as a note!”

  Garett sighed deeply. “Leona—”

  “NO! No ‘Leona’ me! Do you know what I had to do? I had to sit through THREE cil meetings, expin to the nobility why you were ‘indisposed,’ and on top of that, I had to listen to Lord Darvish drone on about TRADE TARIFFS for TWO HOURS.” She threw her hands in the air. “TRADE TARIFFS, Garett! Do you hate me? Is this some kind of cruel revenge?”

  “I—”

  She grabbed his face, squishing his cheeks. “Do you UAND the PAIN I have suffered?”

  Lyra coughed into her hand, thhly eained.

  Leona finally released him with an exaggerated groan, rubbiemples. Then, as if notig Lyra for the first time, she turned sharply. “And WHO is this?”

  Lyra curtsied. “My dy, my name is Lyra. Lyra of Elderwynd.”

  Leona’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “And ray tell, were you doing with MY Garett all night?”

  Garett coughed loudly. “Leona, please.”

  Lyra smirked. “Hunting manticores. Why? What else did you think we were doing?”

  Leona gasped, clutg her chest as if she’d been personally betrayed. “Garett Fenralis, you absolute fiend.”

  Garett groaned. “It’s not like that.”

  Before the versation could escate, Nyx let out an indignant hiss, wings fring as she gred at Leona.

  Leona gasped dramatically. “Oh, fantastiOTHER overprotective guardian. As if we don’t have enough of those.”Garett and Lyra frowheir thoughts almost in unison. “So she IS self-aware.”

  Nyx growled. “Permission to kick her ass, Lyra.”

  Lyra grinned. “Permission denied.”She then turo Leona. “She holds grudges.”

  Leona huffed, crossing her arms. “Wonderful. Just what I needed.”

  Garett pihe bridge of his nose. “ we just—go somewhere else before somenizes me?”

  Leona scowled but finally relented. “Fine. But you owe me. Big time.”

  Garret put his greathelm on as they walked off. Lyra leaned over to Nyx, whispering, “I like her.”

  Nyx merely growled in disapproval