It had taken almost all night, but all the bodies were finally buried. However, Elara was laid to rest in the training grounds where she used to train with Kaldor.

  A wooden cross stood beside her grave.

  While cleaning up the village, Colin gathered weapons and coins, filling Sapphire's pack. Jamily had changed out of her pajamas into peasant clothes and, by luck, found an outfit that fit the boy.

  Colin stood holding the sleeping child in his arms as the two women held hands in silent prayer over the cleric’s grave.

  When they opened their eyes, they felt an immense weight on their shoulders. Before they left, a gust of wind stirred the trees, the grass, their clothes, and their hair.

  "I'm ready, Mr. Colin..." said Sapphire.

  He took one last look at the graves.

  "Thanks for holding him..." Jamily said as she picked up the boy.

  "Right. First, we need a wagon. Luckily, we have plenty of money. Jamily, we're going to avoid the roads—at least for now. It won’t be comfortable for you or the child."

  "All right. I trust you."

  "I think I can make your job easier," said Sapphire, pulling out some cloth from her bag. "You can use this to make a backpack. It should give your arms some rest."

  "Oh, thank you!"

  Sapphire helped her secure the child on her back, making sure they were both comfortable.

  "There you go."

  "That's very practical. Thank you, Miss Sapphire."

  They headed into the tall woods.

  They walked along the path as the soft light of dusk cast golden hues across the landscape. The trail wound through majestic trees and rolling green hills.

  Each step was marked by silence, the memory of the village still weighing heavily on their minds. Elara occasionally came to Colin’s thoughts, but he hadn't cared for her the way he did for Sapphire or Jamily.

  They had shared some good times, but that was all. Maybe, if they'd had more time, deeper bonds could have formed.

  As they continued on, dark clouds began to gather. Raindrops started to fall gently on the tree leaves, echoing the sigh of a world ready to renew itself.

  The rain gradually intensified, reviving the colors of the earth and painting everything in a fresh glow.

  They spotted a cave by the side of the road and took shelter inside.

  From the entrance, they watched the raindrops dance, creating fleeting, rhythmic patterns. The sound of rain hitting the foliage was soothing.

  Jamily found a spot next to a rock where she sat to breastfeed her child.

  Sapphire, though comforted by the sound of the rain, was wrapped in a quiet sadness. She settled in a more secluded corner at the back of the cave, her gaze lost in the trail of droplets running down the cave's mouth.

  Colin sat near the entrance, his penknife in hand.

  He looked down at the dagger in his hand.

  His eyes met Jamily’s, who smiled faintly as her child nuzzled against her. Then he glanced at Sapphire’s back.

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  Night fell like a dark cloak, and the heavy rain gave way to a steady drizzle.

  Sapphire opened her eyes. In the damp cave, firelight flickered, casting shifting shadows along the walls.

  Colin was there, illuminated by the flames like a beacon in the darkness.

  Jamily was asleep beside her child, wrapped in worn cloth.

  Sapphire stood and met Colin’s gaze.

  "The rain’s let up a bit," he said with a gentle smile. "I took the chance to hunt a wolf. Hungry?"

  She leaned back against the cave wall and nodded.

  "Yes..."

  The aroma of roasting meat filled the air—a blend of smoke and charred wolf.

  Before long, Sapphire held a piece of the cooked meat between her fingers.

  It was clear that Colin’s treatment of her had changed.

  At first, he had wanted nothing more than to get rid of her.

  Now, he treated her like a daughter... or perhaps a younger sister.

  She noticed he was wet, his hair slicked back with a few damp strands falling over his face.

  The firelight made the golden glow of his eyes even more intense.

  "Mr. Colin..."

  He looked at her.

  "When you were facing that creature, I ended up fighting two men. During the fight... I don’t know how to explain it, but I could feel everything—every movement, every breath.

  And for a moment, I felt like I could do anything. I managed to kill one of them, but the other ran away..."

  Colin bit into a piece of the wolf’s thigh and nodded.

  “I feel that way sometimes too… Back when we faced those bandits, where Bastiat and the others died… I felt something like that.”

  “Is that magic?”

  “Maybe. Let’s get to Ultan and find out.”

  The taste of the grilled meat mingled with the damp atmosphere of the cave, creating a peculiar contrast.

  “Magic…” murmured Sapphire, taking a bite of her piece of wolf leg. “I never thought I could use something like that…”

  Colin watched her for a moment, thoughtful, before nodding in agreement.

  “This world is full of things we don’t understand. Ultan may have answers—or maybe just more questions.”

  “That smells good…” said Jamily as she stood up, leaving her little boy sleeping peacefully, wrapped in cloth on the floor.

  “Help yourself. Wolf meat’s pretty tasty.”

  She did, quickly blowing on the meat before taking a generous bite.

  “That’s the best thing I’ve eaten in days!”

  “You’re just being modest.”

  “No, really. By the way, I didn’t get a chance to talk much about myself, did I? I’m Jamily Lukysilia. My husband… he was a craftsman. I used to help him with his work. We made noble fabrics and clothes—some even for the high society of Ultan…”

  “Sounds like a wonderful job!” Sapphire joked.

  “It was quite profitable. But now… well, under these conditions, there’s not much I can do...”

  “I’m sure you’ll get back on your feet—and become even more successful than before!”

  “Thank you. I hope the gods agree with you…” She glanced over at Colin. “Are you a Calimanian mercenary? People say the dark-skinned folk of the desert are fierce warriors—but you really surprised me…”

  “I’m not Calimanian, but I was a mercenary once.”

  “Wow… then you’re a dark elf? Though… your ears aren’t pointed. Are you a half-breed?” She quickly raised her hands in apology. “I-I didn’t mean to offend you…”

  Colin shrugged.

  “Offend me? By calling me a half-breed? That doesn’t bother me.”

  She let out a relieved sigh, pressing a hand to her chest.

  “I’ve heard that dark elves don’t like being mistaken for half-breeds, that they find it insulting. But I’m glad you’re not like that.” She turned to Sapphire.

  “And you, Miss Sapphire, are you a…?”

  “Well… Miss Elara said I was an Asmurg, but I don’t really know what that means…”

  Jamily looked at Colin, hoping he had the answer.

  “I’ve got no idea.”

  “I see… Um, sir, where are you headed? I mean—what’s your destination?”

  “Ultan.”

  “Ah…”

  “What?”

  “It’s nothing… It’s just… soldiers from Ultan attacked our stagecoach. I don’t know if I want to go there anymore… I think I’ll stay in the next village we come across.”

  Colin simply shrugged. “That’s your choice.”

  A silence settled between them as the rain outside continued its soft, steady rhythm.

  Jamily sighed, her gaze drifting.

  “My husband… I didn’t even get a chance to bury him. If it hadn’t been for Miss Elara…”

  “It’s going to be all right, Miss Jamily…” Sapphire offered a gentle smile. “I’m going to get some rest. If you need anything, I’ll be right there.”

  Colin nodded and watched as Sapphire made her way to a quieter corner of the cave.

  The fire’s glow faintly illuminated her face, revealing the exhaustion hidden beneath her composed expression.

  As she lay down, Sapphire closed her eyes—but the images of recent events still haunted her. The faces of those they’d lost, the moments of struggle, and the uncertainty of the road ahead swirled through her mind.

  “I’ll get some sleep too. Good night, sir…” said Jamily, lying down next to her son.

  “Good night.”

  Colin remained seated by the fire, his eyes fixed on the flickering flames, deep in thought.

  The weight of responsibility hung heavy on his shoulders—not just as a leader, but as someone who now shared the burden with these two women.

  Outside, the drizzle softened, as if the world itself were shedding gentle tears.