Lamberra’s eyes snapped open, her breath catching as a surge of energy rushed through her like a tidal wave crashing against the shore. The bed beneath her was too soft, too foreign, swallowing her in its luxurious embrace. Above, a chandelier flickered gently, its freshly lit candles casting a warm, golden light that danced along the walls. For a second, she thought she was still at the inn with Lacey. However, there was something pressing down on her, cruising her into the mattress.

  A faint ringing filled her ears, muffling the voices to her right, but there was nothing. Her limbs refused to obey as they were heavy and unresponsive. Panic suddenly started to flair inside her until she heard Belli speak out to her, “That was amazing, Lamberra.”

  Belli’s voice cut through the haze, light and pleased, her hands clapping together. Lamberra’s gaze flickered toward her, every movement sluggish, as if she were wading through thick mud. Belli stretched out her hand, palm up, displaying flawless skin, “see? No scar!”

  Lamberra tried to respond, tried to ask what the hell had just happened, but her lips wouldn’t move. Sudden fear lodged deeper in her throat, and Belli sensing her struggle, continued speaking trying to ease her mind, “you probably can’t talk or move yet, and that’s okay.” Belli waved a hand casually, as if this was an everyday occurrence. “You overexerted your mana. Happens to the best of us, especially in training.”

  Lamberra barely processed the words as her mind reeled. Mana? Magic? This can’t be real. Belli leaned against the edge of the bed, crossing her arms. “Everyone has some level of mana. Every human, every elf,” she said as she gave a pointed glance toward Lamberra. “But there are exceptions. Like us. We have an overabundance, which allows us to do things others can’t.” Belli then smirked. “Ever feel restless at night? Like you can’t sleep, even though you want to? That’s your overabundance at work!”

  “Oh, shut it, Belli,” a deeper voice interjected, rough but warm with familiarity. Lamberra’s gaze jerked toward the corner of the room and Belli’s younger brother, Willow. He stood with his arms crossed, towering over his sister, his fiery red hair cascading down his back in loose waves. Everything about him was bigger, broader, louder. He could fill any space without even trying.

  “Hi there, Lamberra,” he greeted, his voice softening when he addressed her directly, but when he turned back to Belli, the edge returned. “You should’ve waited until I got home, this wasn’t how we were supposed to do this.”

  You’re being dramatic,” Belli waved him off. “She’ll be fine.” Belli approached Lamberra again, her hands glowing faintly. She whispered an incantation, too quiet for Lamberra to catch. Then, a shockwave of energy ripped through her. It felt like lightning striking her veins and Lamberra’s body reacted instantly. Her head back slammed against the headboard and a gasp tore from her lips, “What the fuck, Belli!?” The words bursted out before she could stop them.

  Willow threw his head back, laughing. “Out of all the times we’ve fought, and I’ve beaten her to a pulp,” he gestured toward Belli, still chuckling, “she’s never cursed at me.”

  Belli’s left eyebrow twitched up as she turned to her brother, smirking. “Such spark,” she mused. “Is she like this when you two train?”

  “Oh yeah,” Willow grinned. “When she gets mad, she turns into a different animal.

  “I’m not mad,” Lamberra muttered, brushing her disheveled hair from her face. “Just confused.” Her fingers fumbled to pull her hair into a bun, but the exhaustion from what just happened made her clumsy. She exhaled sharply, showing her frustration.

  “Calm, Lamberra.” Belli’s voice softened, her hands replaced Lamberra’s. Her touch was light, practiced, fingers twisting Lamberra;s hair into a neat bun with ease. “You’ll be okay.”

  She stepped back, assessing her work like an artist saying, “you have incredible potential.” Belli’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. “Not just in magic. Soon, elves might have a place on the High Council again.” Belli’s gaze locked onto Lamberra’s, “and maybe…you’d like to join me on that journey.”

  Lamberra blinked and then a nervous laugh. “W-what?” She stared off, “I’m not even an elf.”

  Belli shrugged. “No matter,” she said as she leaned forward, “the point is to show humans and elves can work together.”

  “Why do you think they gave us mansions in the slums after the peace treaty?” Willow said, his voice carried a hint of bitterness. He leaned against the wall, arms still crossed. “It’s to make humans hate us. We’re rich, but you’re poor.”

  All Lamberra could do was frown. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably as her arms tightened around herself. “How does being a magic user help with any of that? What could I possibly do?”

  Belli sat at the edge of the bed, her expressions gentle but firm. “That’s a separate thing, Lamberra,” she said with a small reassuring smile. “For now, let’s focus on your magic, your reading, and writing. I believe anyone with the ability to do any of those things should learn how.” Belli tilted her as her voice grew lighter, “As for politics? We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Say, are you hungry?” The words were soft, grounding, and familiar. For a moment, she sounded like Mama.

  Lamberra hesitated, and then a slow smirk appeared, “I’m not sure if I wanna eat right now.”

  “There she is!” Willow called out. In two strides, he was in front of her stitching out a hand. Lamberra took it, feeling his grip was firm and steady. With one effortless jerk, he pulled her onto her feet. “We’re going to change the world, the three of us! Just like I’ve always said, ever since we were kids!” Willow’s enthusiasm filled the room.

  “You’ve been saying that forever, you’re not the one who has to spend weeks at the capital,” Belli sighed dramatically. She rose to her feet, rolling eyes but a playful smirk appeared on her lips, “besides, we’re still children.”

  Lamberra followed Willow and Belli toward the kitchen, the scent of simmering broth filling the air as they made their way to the dining table. Along the wall, a painting of General Rowena Mira, their father, loomed over them, his sharp elven features captured in broad, confident strokes. Lamberra’s gaze lingered on the portrait.

  Four years ago, the battle of Blade’s Crossing had claimed his life. The Kingdom of Stormhaven’s conquest against the Kingdom of Aurelia had been brutal. The war had been fought over water and mining rights, the vast, contested land of Blade’s Crossing bordering Aurelia to the west. Once the genocide was over, a part of the peace treaty was that every male elf must fight in any future wars, which placed Rowena Mira there. A proven skilled warrior, but even better strategist. General Mira had been one of the last sent to the front lines as a commander. He led a mere fifty soldiers behind enemy lines to cripple the last five hundred warriors of Aurelia’s army. Through sheer strategy, wit, and determination, he had forced their surrender, and yet he suffered a fatal wound with their ambush. Without Rowena, a peace treaty would have never happened. He had a unique ability to unite humans and elves, it made him one of the important figures in history in the last 100 years. Even today, the Mira name holds significant weight.

  “I miss your father,” Lamberra murmured, her voice softer than she expected. Her eyes remained on the painting, tracing the strength in his face. “He had such a warm laugh. But this painting… it doesn’t do him justice.”

  “Are you calling my late father sexy, Lamberra?” Willow’s grin was sharp, mischief flashing in his eyes. His teasing jab broke the heaviness of the moment, and Lamberra huffed a small laugh despite herself. Belli chuckled, shaking her head as she ladled soup into wooden cups.

  “The frightening thing is,” Belli mused, her lips twitching into a smirk, “he would’ve loved your company, Lamberra.”

  Lamberra matched their energy, smiling. “I don’t know,” she teased, tilting her head toward Willow. “Would you let me court him if he were still here?”

  Willow let out a booming laugh, and even Belli let out an amused huff. Belli placed a bowl of mushroom soup in front of Lamberra, alongside a piece of crusty bread. Lamberra knew instantly what a luxury this was. Mushrooms were hard to come by, unless you had a private garden to grow them, but your soil also has to be right. Mama’s garden certainly wasn’t. She reached for the spoon, but her hands trembled. The aftershock of burning out her mana still clung to her like heavy chains.

  Willow noticed immediately. His amused grin faded, replaced by a knowing frown as he shot a glare at Belli. “You wrecked this poor girl,” he grumbled. “She wasn’t ready to burn her mana down to zero yet.”

  Belli rolled her eyes but set her soup aside, stepping behind Lamberra. A cool warmth spread from her fingertips as she placed her palms gently against Lamberra’s back. “Vitalis,” she murmured. A wave of energy crashed through Lamberra, Her back arched sharply, lungs seizing as a gasp tore from her throat. Her vision flashed white as raw, tingling power flooded every vein. The feeling was too much, too sudden and then, just as quickly, it was gone.

  Lamberra sagged forward, breathing heavily. She stared at her hands, and they were completely still. The tremors were gone. She flexed her fingers in stunned disbelief. “I guess I have a lot to learn,” she muttered, rubbing the back of her neck.

  “See? You’re already coming around!” Belli grinned triumphantly.

  “Will I be okay to travel tomorrow?” she asked hesitantly, still adjusting to the surge of energy.

  “Travel?” Willow leaned forward, curious. “Where to?”

  “I’m heading to Siburg if Mr. Finch has a supply run for me. It pays well enough to keep my family going for a couple of months,” Lamberra shamefully admitted.

  “No worries!” Willow straightened, his grin returning full force. “I’m heading to Siburg too on a military training mission. Shall I accompany you? As repayment for Belli’s sins?

  “Oh, well…yes.” A rare warmth spread through her chest. “I’ve never traveled with anyone before…so the company would be nice,” she said chuckling. She finally picked up her spoon, the restored energy making her realize that she was starving. She devoured the soup, its warmth spreading through her bones.

  “The two of you staying at Duke’s inn? Good luck getting him to shut up.” Belli's voice held amusement, her lips twitching as she playfully looked at Lamberra, “or stop staring at you all night.”

  “Duke’s?” Willow scoffed, shaking his head. “No, I haven’t stayed there in years. I usually camp by a lake a few miles past his place,” Willow said while leaned back in his chair.

  “Ah. The famous lake,” Belli’s tone was dry and unimpressed.

  “What’s the issue? Willow’s lake is BEAUTIFUL.” He pleaded. Belli glanced at Lamberra, quietly mocking his dramatic tone. Lamberra laughed, shaking her head as Willow defended his lake. The rest of the night blurred into warmth. Laughter. Card games. Stories told under the skylit ceiling, bathed in silver moonlight. These were her best friends ever since birth, and this is where Lamberra always felt like she belonged.

  When the hour grew late, Belli turned to her, asking, “Would you like to stay in one of the guest rooms tonight?”

  “That would be lovely, Belli. Thank you,” Lamberra exhaled softly, grateful.

  Belli stepped closer, placing a hand lightly around Lamberra’s bicep with a rare serious expression on her face. “Thank you for trusting me, especially tonight.” Her voice was quiet, but firm. Lamberra held her gaze as they stood eye to eye. Belli’s bright purple pupils flickered in the candlelight.

  “My father had a dream of restoring elfen society. Willow and I are trying to complete it,” Belli said with her grip becoming looser. “You’ve always treated us like equals, like we're human. You prove that coexistence is possible. We need you, Lamberra.”

  Lamberra’s chest tightened, but her lips curled into a small smile. Lamberra lifted her hand, placing it gently over Belli’s outstretched arm. “You are no different from me. We’re stronger together.” Lamberra’s voice was soft but sure.

  Belli exhaled, her shoulders loosened. “If you do go to Siburg with Willow, be careful. It’s been a dangerous road lately according to reports.”

  “I think Willow will do just fine as my protector,” Lamberra said sweetly. The holding of their arms turned into a long embrace, and then Lamberra made her way to the guest room. She let her hair down, placing the tie around her wrist. She sank into the soft bed as the day’s events swirled in her mind. However, exhaustion claimed her quickly and the world faded to quiet stillness.

  Lamberra jolted awake as her bed shook violently, Willow’s firm hands gripping the wooden frame. His towering form loomed over her, broad shoulders nearly blocking out the slivers of morning light creeping through the curtains.

  “Wake up, Lamberra!” His voice boomed with exaggerated enthusiasm, filling the room like a Belli’s thunderclap from last night. She groaned dramatically, rolling toward the edge of the bed before letting herself fall to the floor with a heavy thud.

  “Ugh,” she mumbled, sprawled out on the ground like a lifeless body.

  Willow burst into laughter, clearly satisfied with his handiwork. “Time to hit the road!” he announced, as if they were embarking on some grand adventure. Lamberra peeled herself off the floor, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

  “Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” she grumbled, shuffling into the living room.

  “Where’s Belli?” Lamberra asked, scanning the space.

  “Still asleep,” Willow replied, his usual sharpness softened with concern. “Honestly, I hope she makes it past midday. She’s been pushing herself too hard.”

  Lamberra glanced at him properly for the first time that morning. He looked… different. His crisp black uniform was immaculate, the fabric hugging his frame in a way that emphasized both his strength and his commanding presence. The three white stripes on his right side marked him as a lieutenant, while the burning arrow emblem gleamed on the left—a symbol of the Kingdom of Stormhaven. His fiery red hair, normally wild and free, was tightly pulled into a bun, exposing the rugged scar that curved along the side of his head, ending near the stub of his elven ear. She had never noticed it before. Then again, she had never seen him look so composed before either.

  “Politics and training,” he sighed, adjusting the ornate sword at his waist. Its royal purple sheath stood in stark contrast to the rest of his severe uniform. “Shall we swing by Mister Finch’s and your place before we leave?”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “Uh, yes, if you don’t mind?”

  “Of course.” Willow smirked. “We’ll make the time.”

  As they stepped outside, the brisk morning air carried the fading bite of night’s chill, the rising sun battling against the approaching winter. The slum streets were already alive with movement, the scent of damp earth and cooking fires weaving through the air. Nearly everyone they passed saluted Willow.

  “Have you gotten used to it?” Lamberra asked, watching him nod in acknowledgment at yet another passerby.

  “To be frank,” he muttered, voice tinged with exhaustion, “I have no idea how my father managed it. It’s draining. I wish I could just walk around unnoticed. Like you.”

  “I get that,” she said softly, sensing there was more to his words than he was letting on. “At least the path to Siburg is quiet,” she added. “Hardly anyone uses it aside from merchants or missionaries.”

  “Oh, hell. The last thing I need is to deal with some pacifist religious zealot.” Willow groaned dramatically.

  By the time they reached Mister Finch’s apothecary, the shop had just opened, but a small line had already formed outside. “No worries,” Willow murmured. “The uniform has its perks.”

  People instinctively parted for him, their salutes automatic, though they went largely ignored. His presence alone commanded space. Inside, Mister Finch nearly toppled out of his chair at the sight of him. “My Lord! How can I assist you?” the old man exclaimed, his voice trembling.

  “Not a lord, old man,” Willow said flatly, stepping aside to allow Lamberra forward.

  Mister Finch's startled expression softened instantly when he saw her. “Oh, Lamberra,” he said warmly. “Is everything all right? How can I help?”

  “I was wondering if it’s time for the Siburg delivery,” she asked. “I can head out today.”

  Mister Finch's entire posture shifted. Relief flooded his face as he nodded quickly. “Yes, please! I’m in desperate need of Isabella’s herbs from Siburg. It would be a great help. Would thirty crowns suffice?”

  Lamberra blinked. Thirty? It’s usually just twenty.

  “That would be nice,” she said, recovering quickly. “Half now, half upon my return?”

  Mister Finch eagerly agreed, fumbling with his coin pouch before handing over the first half. With that, the deal was set. As they stepped out of the shop, Willow chuckled. “Quite the payday for a simple delivery.”

  “It’s usually less,” Lamberra admitted. Then, a thought struck her, and she smirked. “I think he was worried you’d arrest him for underpaying me.”

  Willow let out a tired sigh, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Even if that were the case, I’m not a knight. I have no arresting power.” His voice dropped slightly. “The only thing I’m good at is killing others.”

  Lamberra frowned but decided not to push the subject. Instead, she nudged him playfully with her elbow. “Still, the only thing that old man knows how to do is mix herbs.”

  Willow’s lips twitched into a faint smile. A flicker of warmth finally broke through his stoic exterior that came with this uniform. By the time they reached her home, that warmth was gone. Selma sat on the porch, her usual gentle smile shifting to panic the moment she spotted Willow. Scrambling to her feet, she brushed off her dress hurriedly, hands fidgeting as if trying to straighten herself out.

  “Selma, don’t bother! Look however you please! This is your home,” Willow called out, but it didn’t stop her.

  She whipped around, shouting into the house, “Amara! Get out of your nightclothes this instant!”

  Willow sighed, watching the chaos unfold. “Has she always been like this?” he chuckled, looking at Lamberra.

  Mama’s attention solely on Willow as he approached. Her dark eyes softened, her expression full of something deep and unspoken. She gave a soft salute and said, “My, how you’ve grown. You look just like your father.”

  Her hand brushed gently against his face, lingering just long enough to make Willow pause. Lamberra watched as an almost wistful expression crossed her mother’s face. “I remember when you, Belli, and Lamberra were just children playing by the river,” Mama continued. “Your father and I loved to sit and watch you all for hours.”

  “You’re making me blush, Miss Selma,” Willow said, his smile warming. Then, in a fluid motion, he knelt onto one knee, taking her hand. “You’ve always honored me.”

  Lamberra just stood watching the sweet moment take place, suddenly, a blur of blonde barreled into her.

  “Lamberra!” Amara squealed, throwing herself into her sister’s arms.

  “Amara!” Mama’s voice snapped with frustration. “I told you to put on your school clothes!”

  Amara only giggled, clinging to Lamberra like a burr. Lamberra laughed softly before looking toward her mother. “Mama,” she said gently, “I’ll explain while I’ve got you both. Willow and I are making a delivery run to Siburg today. He’s accompanying me both ways.”

  Mama’s shoulders visibly relaxed, though her face remained stern. “Good,” she said, voice firm. “I feel better knowing you won’t be alone.” Lamberra braced herself for the inevitable lecture on safety that followed. Her mother, as expected, did not disappoint. Nodding along, Lamberra finally excused herself, stepping inside to change.

  Lamberra slipped into her travel clothes, adjusting the fit of her dark blue dress. It ended at mid-thigh, its flat white collar giving a slight nod to modesty, though she wore black pants beneath it for practicality. Her worn brown boots hugged her feet comfortably, well-suited for the long journey ahead. With practiced ease, she secured her small sword across her back. Grabbing the bag for Mister Finch’s supplies, she stepped outside, where Mama was already waiting.

  The moment Lamberra emerged, her mother pulled her into a fierce hug. “I’m so glad Willow’s going with you,” Mama whispered into her ear, the tension in her arms betraying her attempt at calm. “But please, be careful. Promise me.”

  Lamberra returned the embrace, her mother’s familiar warmth grounding her. She knew these trips worried Mama, even if she tried not to show it. “If I’ve come back unharmed the last ten times by myself, I’ll definitely be okay with Willow,” she reassured her.

  Mama sighed, finally pulling back, though her hands lingered on Lamberra’s shoulders as if reluctant to let go. But it was Amara who clung the tightest, her small hands wrapping around Lamberra’s waist. The little girl’s face crumbled, and tears welled in her big, innocent eyes.

  “Oh, goodness,” Lamberra murmured, crouching to meet her gaze. “You do this every time, little one. It’s just three days.” Amara didn’t respond. Instead, she buried her face into Lamberra’s shoulder, sniffling. Lamberra held her close, kissing the top of her tangled golden hair.

  “Don’t worry, Amara,” Willow cut in with an exaggerated sigh. “I’ll make sure she comes back with at least most of her limbs intact.”

  “Willow!” Mama scolded, shooting him a glare.

  Amara giggled, her grip loosening slightly as she wiped her nose on her sleeve. Lamberra took the moment to slip free, ruffling her little sister’s hair before rising to her feet. Willow gave her a knowing nod, and together, they set off, Mama’s voice trailing after them with final reminders to stay safe. As they walked down the dirt path leading out of the slums, the sun climbed higher, warming their backs. The streets were lively, bustling with the scent of fresh bread mingling with the sharper tang of damp wood and smoke.

  “I love the outfit,” Willow remarked after a stretch of silence, his tone relaxed.

  “Thanks. I figured I should at least try to look halfway decent on the road. No sense in inviting trouble,” Lamberra replied, brushing a hand over the fabric.

  “This is true,” he agreed, glancing at the small sword on her back. “How good are you with that thing now?”

  “About as good as you taught me,” she said with a shrug. “I’ve never had to use it in a real fight, though, and I hope I never have to.”

  “You never truly know how skilled you are until it’s life or death,” he said, his voice carrying a quiet edge. “But if you stick to the fundamentals, you’ll outmatch most opponents.”

  “Right, is that why you made me train until my hands and feet bled?” she quipped, rolling her eyes.

  “Hey, you learned, didn’t you?” Willow countered with a smirk.

  Lamberra groaned. “Barely. I swear you took some sort of sadistic pleasure in watching me suffer.”

  “Not pleasure,” Willow replied smoothly, adjusting the strap of his bag. “More like... satisfaction.”

  Lamberra scoffed but couldn’t hide her smile. They broke off onto the Siburg road, leaving the lively town behind. The path grew quieter, save for the rhythmic rustle of leaves and the gentle murmur of the river to their right. To their left, the forest stretched deep and dark, its autumn-colored canopy shedding vibrant orange leaves in the cool air.

  As midday approached, Willow called for a break. He pulled a small loaf of bread from his pack and offered it to Lamberra. “Here. Eat,” he ordered.

  Lamberra took it, with thanks in her eyes.

  “You’ve got to keep your energy up. Too risky otherwise,” Willow remarked.

  “True, but when you’re poor, you learn to make do,” she said, her voice light despite the weight of her words.

  Willow didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stared off toward the forest, his expression darkening. A subtle tension gathered in his shoulders. Then, suddenly, he held up a hand, silencing her. “How far are we from Duke’s? Three or four hours?” His voice was low and sharp now, all the warmth gone.

  Lamberra swallowed. “Closer to five,” she answered cautiously. “Maybe four if I keep up with your pace.”

  “No more breaks,” he said, rising abruptly. “Eat while we walk.”

  His intensity unsettled her, but she nodded. “Okay.”

  They pressed on, their pace quickening. Lamberra scanned the treeline, her fingers twitching near her sword’s hilt. Had Willow seen something? Felt something? She didn’t ask, if there was danger, she trusted he’d tell her. By the time the wooden structure of Duke’s inn came into view, the sun was dipping low, casting golden streaks through the canopy.

  “Wow,” Lamberra breathed. “I don’t think I’ve ever made it here before sunset.” Willow didn’t respond. Instead, he pushed open the creaky door and strode inside. Lamberra followed, the dim warmth of the inn wrapping around her. Behind the counter, Duke sat slumped over his desk, snoring softly.

  “Wake up, Duke,” Willow barked, thumping his head.

  Duke jolted upright, coughing as his faded blue eyes snapped open. “Why, hello. My first two patrons this entire week,” he rasped.

  “That’s what I want to ask about,” Willow said, his tone sharper than before. “Where is everyone? No merchants, no travelers. Has something happened in Siburg?”

  Duke’s expression darkened as he shuffled forward, craning his neck to meet Willow’s gaze. “There’ve been a string of muggings along this path for the past month or so,” he said, voice low. “It’s scared most folks away. They’re taking the new road now, even if it means a longer trip.”

  “Belli said there had been concerning reports on this path lately,” Lamberra told Willow, slightly tugging him back.

  “That’s unfortunate, but we won’t be staying here tonight. We need to push closer to Siburg if we want to make it by late morning. Here, take this,” Willow handed him several crowns. “Hopefully this will make up for lost business this week.”

  Duke nodded solemnly before disappearing into the back. When he returned, he handed them four skinned squirrels. “A good deed deserves another,” the old man said with a faint smile. They all nodded in agreement as Lamberra and Willow hit the path again.

  Back outside, Lamberra exhaled. “That explains it. I felt like someone was watching us, but I guess they wouldn’t risk attacking with your uniform in plain sight.”

  Willow smirked, but his tone was serious. “Probably not. I wasn’t angry, you know. Just... preparing myself.”

  “For?”

  Willow’s gaze flickered toward the treeline. “To kill.”

  The long hours of walking, paired with the restless night before, had finally caught up to Lamberra. Each step felt heavier than the last, exhaustion pressing into her limbs like iron weights. The cool evening air did little to keep her alert, her body crying out for rest with every sluggish movement. Before she even realized it, her balance faltered, and she leaned against Willow’s side, her legs sluggish and uncooperative.

  Without hesitation or complaint, Willow hoisted her onto his back, his broad frame carrying her as if she weighed nothing at all. His grip was firm, practiced, like this wasn’t the first time he’d had to carry someone for a long time. “Rest, Lamberra,” he murmured, his voice steady but tinged with concern. “Your mana is still nearly depleted. We’ll need it restored soon.”

  Lamberra barely managed a nod, too tired to argue. She let her head rest against the back of his neck, the rhythmic sway of his footsteps lulling her toward sleep. But true rest never came. Every jostle of uneven ground, every shift in his pace, kept her caught in the limbo between consciousness and slumber.

  By the time Willow finally set her down, the lake stretched before them, its glassy surface reflecting the full moon. The sight stole what little breath she had left. It was beautiful, the kind of quiet, untouched place that felt like a secret the world had forgotten.

  “So, this is Willow’s lake?” Lamberra teased.

  “Sure is, Belli hates it but it’s basically become an inside joke. This is actually Briar Lake,” Willow replied, shaking his head toward his sister with a grin.

  Willow immediately set to work gathering firewood, his movements methodical and efficient. The air had already begun to cool, the first whispers of winter creeping through the trees. Lamberra forced herself upright, the weight of exhaustion still heavy in her bones. Lamberra watched Willow light the fire from his fingertips using his fire magic. “Can I help?” she asked, her voice hoarse with fatigue.

  “Some more firewood would be helpful,” Willow said, brushing soot from his hands. “I can start dinner now, but we’ll need more for the entire night.”

  Nodding, she moved toward the trees, gathering larger branches scattered along the ground. The world felt oddly still, save for the distant rustling of leaves overhead. Then, just beyond the treeline, a sound. Faint snapping. The unmistakable crunch of twigs underfoot. Her heart quickened. She clutched the logs tighter to her chest, her gaze darting between the thick trunks of the trees. The fading sunlight made it difficult to see, the shifting shadows playing tricks on her eyes. A cautious step forward and the silence pressed in.

  A blur of movement. A massive elk burst from the undergrowth, its powerful hooves pounding the earth as it tore past her, its breath visible in the cold air. Lamberra gasped, stumbling back. But before she could react, Willow was there, already moving, his right hand resting on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw.

  “Just a deer,” she exhaled shakily.

  Willow’s stance relaxed slightly, though his eyes remained sharp as he scanned the darkness beyond. Then, after a moment, his laughter broke through the quiet, warm and genuine. “You watch dinner. I’ll finish gathering wood,” he said, clapping a hand on her shoulder before disappearing into the trees.

  Lamberra returned to the fire, settling onto the ground and turning the skewered squirrels slowly over the flames. The rich scent of roasting meat filled the air, wrapping around her like a comforting embrace. The tension in her muscles eased, her breathing slowing to match the crackling rhythm of the fire. Before long, Willow emerged again, carrying an absurd amount of firewood. It was far more than necessary. Lamberra raised an eyebrow, shaking her head as a small laugh escaped her. “Is this for tonight, or are we planning to winter here?”

  Willow smirked, dropping the pile beside the fire. “Better to have too much than not enough.” Lamberra rolled her eyes but said nothing, stretching out her legs as he settled beside her.

  “With the reports of muggings along the path lately, we should probably take turns on watch,” Willow said, poking at the fire with a stick. “Just to be safe.”

  “Makes sense,” Lamberra agreed, stifling a yawn. “But you’re up first. I haven’t been this tired in years.”

  “I can live with that,” he replied, flashing her a rare, genuine smile.

  The flames cast flickering shadows across his face, softening the sharp lines of his features. He looked different like this. Calm, almost at peace even Lamberra let her head fall back, staring up at the faint stars drowned by the moonlight.

  “Magic training takes a toll,” Willow continued after a long pause. “For me, I only have fire magic, and even that’s exhausting. Belli’s probably taught you everything by now, though. If you’ve got healing magic, you can manipulate more than you realize.”

  Lamberra hummed in acknowledgment, her mind too sluggish to fully absorb his words.

  “But…” Willow hesitated, his voice lowering. “I fear what we don’t know. The ‘unknown.’”

  Lamberra turned her head, blinking away sleep. “Hm?”

  Willow leaned back, his expression thoughtful. “All elves can manipulate magic, but when humans and elves started having children, humans began inheriting the trait. Somewhere in your family, you’re tied to an elf. That’s the only way you’d have magic.”

  Lamberra absorbed this, watching as he handed her two cooked squirrels. She took them, her gaze lingering on the distant look in his eyes.

  “The genocide started because of fear,” Willow said after a long silence. “Humans were afraid elves would dominate with magic. They struck first, wiping out entire clans before the elves could fight back. My father always said humans didn’t just fear magic; they wanted to control it, and they succeeded.”

  Lamberra chewed slowly, letting his words settle. “So… what we know of magic is essentially limited, and the ones in power have manipulated it and turned it into an unknown weapon we don’t fully understand?”

  “That’s the gist.” His voice was clipped, his tone heavy with resignation. “Belli is studying it though. She’s working with elves around the continent and several kingdoms trying to learn as much as she can.”

  Neither of them spoke after that. The fire crackled, filling the silence between them. Eventually, Lamberra let her eyes drift closed, exhaustion finally pulling her under. When it was her turn for watch, Willow shook her gently awake.

  “Fuck, it’s cold,” she muttered, rubbing her arms as she sat up stiffly.

  “I added fresh wood to the fire,” he said. “If you need anything, wake me.”

  Their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them. Willow wrapped himself in a blanket, settling where she’d been lying, his sword close at hand. The night stretched on, the fire’s embers glowing red against the dark. Lamberra watched the moon dip lower in the sky, her thoughts wandering aimlessly as the hours passed by.

  Then, there was movement. Much more substantial than large elk from earlier. She froze, gripping the hilt of her sword. At first, she thought it was just the firelight playing tricks on her. But a shape appeared between the trees. A figure, shifting through the darkness. Lamberra’s heart pounded.

  “Willow,” she whispered, barely audible.

  Instantly, he was awake, his hand already on his sword. “What is it?”

  “There’s someone out there,” she murmured, nodding toward the treeline.

  Willow’s eyes narrowed. He rose slowly, motioning for her to stay close. Together, they stood by the fire, the flickering light casting long shadows across the clearing. The forest was silent. Too silent. The fire crackled, the only sound in the heavy stillness.

  A voice called out. It was smoothing and mocking in nature.

  “Hello, hello, travelers,” it called from the darkness. A figure stepped forward, just beyond the fire’s light. “Lovely night to camp, huh?”