Due to the raid, the caravan had halted its movement for the night. Though they had managed to travel a few more miles toward their destination, they had settled down earlier than planned.

  The wounded were tended to, and the dead were buried. For all intents and purposes, they were now an entire night behind schedule.

  Grayne was livid—not at those who had defended the wagons, but at those who had attacked them. He convened the remaining leaders of the guild crews, and together they concluded that something had gone horribly wrong.

  A traitor had to be among them, planted to sabotage the mission. While no one had proof, the suspicion loomed large.

  Bram relayed all of this grim news over breakfast as dawn broke. He suggested the caravan adjust its route—choosing a slightly longer but more random path to avoid ambushes. Grayne agreed.

  Their group had been among the lucky few to avoid fatalities.

  By the time breakfast was underway, Lyra had regained some of her usual spunky demeanor.

  “Oh, they got me good, all right,” she said with a lopsided grin. “I’d say I’ll get my vengeance… but someone took care of that for me already.” She nudged Colin with her elbow, a playful smile spreading across her surprisingly unblemished face.

  Her voice lowered as she continued, hitching slightly as she fought back tears. “Thank you, Colin… for saving my life.” The words came out as a whisper, her tone heavy with gratitude.

  But just as quickly as Colin caught the sadness in her voice, it vanished.

  “How about a song, folks?” Lyra announced, her usual enthusiasm returning. “We kicked some serious butt out there today!”

  Kae muttered under his breath, “Some more than others…” before nodding toward Colin in quiet respect.

  Colin felt his face flush at the attention but accepted the acknowledgments graciously.

  Lyra pulled out her lute and began plucking at the strings, the notes forming a soothing melody. Her voice, strong and rich with warmth, rose above the crackling of the campfire.

  She sang:

  The birds soar high, so high in the sky,

  Circling the field where the fallen lie.

  Men fight and die, for glory, they strive,

  Chasing the honor that keeps hope alive.

  The birds soar higher, in silence, they fly,

  Watching the battles where echoes still cry.

  The men, they plead, for mercy, they yearn,

  But the wheel of war will never turn.

  The birds drift higher, through clouds they ascend,

  Witnessing truths that the soldiers pretend.

  The men, they deny, their deeds and their shame,

  Hiding the weight of the battlefield's flame.

  The birds dive low, o’er the earth they glide,

  Silent observers where memories reside.

  The men have gone, their war left behind,

  Victory claimed, though peace they won’t find.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  As Lyra sang, the mood grew somber. The weight of the recent battle settled over the group.

  For many, the pain of taking lives—and losing friends—was fresh.

  Colin sat in silence, staring into the fire. Today was his first time killing another person. He had hunted animals before, back when he and his father went hunting together. But this... this was different.

  Strangely, he felt no guilt. He supposed it was because he’d acted in a kill-or-be-killed situation. Yet the absence of guilt left him uneasy, as if something were still wrong.

  He replayed the battle in his mind again and again, searching for clarity. He had done the right thing, hadn’t he? Killing those people had been the right choice. So why couldn’t he shake the feeling that it was all so very wrong?

  Dragging his gaze from the flickering flames, he found Bram already looking his way. The dwarf nodded.

  It was time to find out what Bram had been talking about.

  ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

  Colin followed as Bram stood, the two walking silently away from the campfire. They offered murmured excuses to their companions when asked where they were headed.

  They walked until they reached a small clearing in the woodland. Bram paused, bowing his head briefly in what appeared to be a prayer. As he finished, Colin noticed a faint shimmer in the air around them.

  “Just a simple spell t’ keep any curious ears at bay,” Bram assured him. “So we can talk freely ‘bout yer issue.”

  “Issue?” Colin asked, tilting his head. “What issue?”

  “The fact you’re not from here, lad,” Bram replied gravely. “Not just this country, but this world. Should that become common knowledge, it’d be a serious issue fer you.”

  Colin blinked, his stomach sinking.

  “Yer kind is highly prized by the monarchs,” Bram continued. “No one knows exactly what they do wit’ ‘em, but once yer presence is known, ye disappear shortly after gainin’ renown.”

  Colin’s voice wavered as he responded. “So... what can I do? I just want to go home, Bram.”

  The dwarf’s eyes softened. “I know ye do, laddie. I know ye do. I wish I could send ye back meself, but I can’t.” He sighed heavily. “But I might know someone who can.”

  Colin’s posture straightened, his interest piqued by the hope Bram’s words offered.

  “There’s a man. A Ryke,” Bram said, his tone reverent. “A servant o’ my god, though he doesn’t know it yet. His name is Graves. Once a world-renowned necromancer, he’s since turned his attention to dabblin’ in time magics. It’s said he can control time and space like playthings in his hands.”

  “Where is he? How do I find him?” Colin blurted, his words tumbling out in excitement.

  “Relax, lad,” Bram said, raising a hand to calm him. “That’s the catch. I don’t know where he is. No one does. Graves is a proper legend. I’ve asked me god fer help, but I haven’t gotten a clear answer.”

  Bram glanced around again, as if scanning for unseen threats despite the magical barrier. He leaned closer to Colin, his voice lowering.

  “Kaelwyn’ll guide ye,” he said, his voice filled with quiet certainty. “He’s assured me o’ that much. That’s all I can give ye fer now, but I’ll do everything I can t’ help ye find where ye need t’ go.”

  The dwarf reached out, clasping Colin’s hands firmly in his own.

  In that moment, Colin felt a deep connection with Bram—a bond akin to that of a father and son. He sensed the dwarf’s sincerity, felt it resonate deep within his soul.

  And then, he felt something else. A light touch on his innermost self, like a cool breeze carrying whispers of infinite wisdom and immense knowledge.

  The sensation left him unsure how to react. Instead, he simply hugged the dwarf, his emotions spilling over.

  “Thank you,” Colin whispered, his voice cracking. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  Tears flowed freely as the emotional wall Colin had been holding up since his arrival shattered.

  For the next half-hour, the only sound within the magical barrier was the quiet sobbing of a young man finally unburdening his soul.

  When it was over, the pair returned to the campfire in silence.

  Nothing had physically changed in their absence, but Colin walked with a lighter step, as if he’d shed a great weight.

  The rest of the night passed in quiet gratitude among the team.