The chisel bites into the stone, carving another name into the surface.

  Marc.

  Geralt.

  Yelena.

  Mara.

  Roderick.

  The rhythm of it has become second nature by now—the careful strokes, the controlled pressure. This monument, these names, they deserve to be remembered. I step back, wiping dust from my hands as the wind moves through the ruins of Draemoor, whistling through the wasteland.

  It’s been a month. Five since everything changed. Since I changed.

  “I thought I’d find you here.” Marei’s voice carries through the empty space, warm and familiar. She steps closer, fingers tracing the freshly carved names. Her dark hair is loose, catching in the breeze as she reads them. “You’ve been at this all day.”

  I shrug, leaning my weight against the stone. “They deserve it.”

  A pause. Then, softly, “So do you.”

  I don’t answer right away. The words settle between us, and I let them. Instead, I reach for my chisel again, pressing it to the stone. “Almost done.”

  She doesn’t try to stop me. Marei understands. So she just sits down nearby, pulling her knees up, watching me work. The silence between us is comfortable, filled only with the steady scrape of metal on stone.

  After a while, Marei exhales and stretches her arms over her head. “You know you’re gonna be late, right?”

  I don’t look up. “For what?”

  She scoffs. “Luca.”

  I glance at her, feigning confusion. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Sounds made up.”

  “Oh, definitely.”

  I finally grin, setting the chisel down with a sigh. “I suppose I should humor him, huh?”

  “Wouldn’t kill you,” she teases. “Probably.”

  I dust my hands off and turn to her, tilting my head toward the road. “You coming?”

  She raises a brow. “You really think I’d let you go alone?”

  “Figured you’d get sick of me eventually.”

  She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “Not a chance.”

  We make our way back to the horse-drawn cart, the quiet weight left behind us. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting golden light over the road ahead. I take one last look over my shoulder at the monument, the names carved deep into stone, permanent. I hope that’s enough.

  I take my seat, and Marei does the same beside me. She adjusts the reins, but I catch the way her gaze lingers on me, thoughtful, considering.

  “What?” I ask, smirking.

  She shakes her head, but there’s amusement in her voice. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

  “Dangerous habit.”

  “You’d know.”

  I chuckle. The steady rhythm of hoofbeats fills the air as we ride. The road stretches ahead, winding back toward the capital, toward everything waiting for us there.

  For a while, neither of us spoke. The silence isn’t uncomfortable. It never is with her. But there’s something about today that makes me want to say something. I glance at her, watching the way the fading sunlight catches in her eyes. “You really think I deserve it?”

  She doesn’t ask what I mean. She just looks at me, considering. “Yes.”

  I exhale, letting my fingers drum against the reins. “I don’t know if I’ll ever believe that.”

  “That’s okay,” she says. “I’ll believe it for you.”

  Something tightens in my chest. I don’t know what to say to that, so I don’t. Instead, I focus on the road ahead, on the way home.

  Eventually, Marei breaks the quiet again. “So, this thing we’re headed to. You really gonna pretend you forgot?”

  “Pretend?” I echo. “You wound me. I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  She snorts. “Uh-huh. The fancy clothes in your bag say otherwise.”

  I sigh, shaking my head. “Damn. Thought I hid those better.”

  She grins. “Not from me.”

  I narrow my eyes playfully. “You go through my things often?”

  “Only when I think you’re hiding something.”

  “And?”

  She tilts her head, pretending to consider. “You’re terrible at hiding things.”

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  “That is a bold lie, and you know it.”

  She laughs, shaking her head. “Sure, Luca.”

  I huff, adjusting my hold on the reins. “You’re lucky I like you.”

  “I am, actually.”

  I blink at that, caught off guard by the honesty in her voice. When I glance over, she’s looking ahead, as if she didn’t just say something that makes my chest feel like it’s caving in.

  The road stretches on, and I should let it go, but I don’t. “Marei?”

  “Mm?”

  I swallow. “I’m lucky, too.”

  She looks at me then, really looks at me, and whatever she sees in my expression makes her smile soften. “I know.”

  As we ride, Marei reaches out, fingers brushing against mine. It’s not an accident this time. Neither of us pull away. Instead, I shift my hand, letting my fingers tangle with hers.

  We ride on, together, toward whatever comes next.

  The streets of the capital are alive with movement, the energy of the crowd surging like a tide. Marei and I move with them, weaving through the cacophony as voices rise in anticipation. I can see it in their faces—the weight of what this day means. A turning point, the start of something new.

  Marei nudges me with her elbow. “Still pretending you have no idea what’s going on?”

  I smirk. “What, this? Just a normal day in the capital.”

  “Oh, right. The banners, the music, the stage? Totally normal.”

  “Exactly.”

  She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “You are impossible.”

  We step into the square, the very place where everything began five months ago. Where my flames first erupted. Where the course of my life, of Sacer’s life, changed forever.

  A stage stands at the far end, draped in deep blues and golds. At its center, Sacer stands tall, his ceremonial armor catching the afternoon light. To his right, Edric shifts on his feet, fidgeting in a way that makes it obvious he hates the formality of the moment. On Sacer’s left stands Alden, his broad frame steady, his remaining arm resting on the hilt of his sword. The empty sleeve where his other arm once was is neatly fastened, a quiet testament to what was lost.

  The noise settles as Sacer steps forward, his golden eyes sweeping over the crowd. When he speaks, his voice carries, steady and sure. “A month ago, everything changed.”

  The square is silent, hanging on his every word.

  “With the fall of King Calor, the truth of our past came to light. The betrayals. The injustices committed by those who called themselves ‘good’.” He pauses, letting the words settle. “I know what you want. A new king. A new beginning. But I… I am not that man.”

  A murmur runs through the crowd, uncertain.

  “I was born to this bloodline, yes. I am Gabriel, but that does not mean I am the one who should lead. Ruling is more than just birthright. It is wisdom, it is strength, and it is knowing when to step aside.”

  He turns then, his gaze landing on Alden. “And there is one among us who has already proven himself.”

  Alden stiffens slightly, his brow furrowing. Sacer smiles. “The man who defended this city, who didn’t fight for a throne but for the people who live here. The man who stood when others fell.”

  The realization ripples through the crowd. Alden’s eyes widen slightly, his usual composure cracking just for a second before he exhales sharply, shaking his head. “Sacer—”

  “You’re the leader they need,” Sacer says simply. “And you know it.”

  The silence stretches, then, like the slow rising of the tide, a chant begins. Alden’s name, carried by the voices of those who fought beside him, those who owe their lives to his strength.

  Marei leans close, her voice a quiet murmur. “Did you see that coming?”

  I exhale through my nose, watching as Alden runs a hand over his face, clearly overwhelmed. “For once? No.”

  She smirks. “Guess there’s a first time for everything.”

  I don’t argue. Because, for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like the world is pressing down on me. I just watch as Alden takes a slow breath, straightens, and steps forward to meet his fate.

  —

  The wooden door creaks as I push it open, the familiar scent of aged timber and dried herbs filling my lungs. Dust lingers in the air, swirling in the shafts of light spilling through the windows. Our childhood home is smaller than I remember. The walls, once lively with the scent of cooking and the warmth of a fire, now stand silent, holding nothing but memories.

  Sacer steps in behind me, his boots scuffing against the worn floorboards. He exhales slowly, glancing around. “Feels different.”

  I nod. “Feels empty.”

  The table is still there, the chairs slightly askew, as if someone had just left. Our father’s old coat hangs by the door, untouched. There are still books stacked beside his favorite chair, open to pages he had once been reading. The sight makes my chest tighten.

  “He really just left everything,” Sacer murmurs, running a hand along the back of a chair. “Like he’d be coming right back.”

  I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Maybe he thought he would.”

  We both know that isn’t true.

  Sacer moves to the small shelf above the fireplace, fingers brushing over the carved wooden figures he and I used to play with. “Remember when he carved these for us?” he asks, picking up a knight with a dulled edge.

  I smirk. “You always made yours the hero.”

  “Well, I had to. Most fitting role for me.”

  “So that automatically makes me the bad guy, huh?”

  He snorts. “Sure.”

  For a while, we don’t speak. We let the silence settle, filled only by the distant chirping of birds outside. Eventually, Sacer leans against the table, arms crossed. “You ever think about them?”

  I don’t have to ask who he means. “Sometimes,” I admit. “But there’s not much to think about. We don’t really know them.”

  “Rayn and Lucille,” Sacer says, like the names themselves hold weight. His golden eyes meet mine, something unreadable in them. “Do you ever wonder if they would have wanted us?”

  I hesitate. “I think so.”

  Sacer doesn’t push for more. Maybe because he already knows my answer is more hope than truth.

  He sighs and shakes his head, clearly trying to shift the mood. “Enough brooding.” His lips curl into a smirk. “So. You and Marei, huh?”

  I roll my eyes. “What about us?”

  “When’s the wedding?”

  I snort. “Guess that depends. You gonna be my best man?”

  He grins. “Of course. But only if I get to make a really embarrassing speech.”

  “Only if you keep Edric occupied.”

  We laugh, the sound easy and familiar, like the months of distance between us had never happened. It feels good.

  The moment settles into something softer, more thoughtful. The weight of everything unspoken lingers in the quiet, until Sacer finally breaks it.

  “You’re gonna look for him, right?”

  I meet his gaze. There’s no need to clarify who ‘him’ is.

  I nod, a small smile tugging at my lips. “I have to.”

  Sacer watches me for a moment before exhaling, nodding in return. “Take Edric with you. He’ll be useful.”

  I chuckle. “You just don’t want him getting into trouble here.”

  “Maybe.”

  We both know that isn’t true either.

  He shifts, rubbing the back of his neck. “Marei’s gonna fight you on this.”

  “Of course she is.”

  “And you’re still going?”

  I smile. “Of course I am.”

  He lets out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Figures.”

  The capital needs its hero. And I need to find our father.