The rain finally stopped by morning, but the sky stayed heavy with mist, like the clouds hadn't finished grieving.
Captain Ren woke us before the sun had even yawned. He barked orders like the world was ending. Apparently, a handful of us were chosen for an outer perimeter patrol—a routine sweep, they said. Nothing serious.
I didn't believe in routine anymore.
Not after what I'd lost.
---
They assigned me to the rear.
I didn't mind.
Behind me were trees, and ahead of me were strangers. Easier that way. No one at my back.
Kaelina—Kael, as the others called her—was posted beside me. She hadn't spoken to me since our exchange back in the barracks. Not that I expected her to. She didn't speak much to anyone. She moved like a soldier but watched like a survivor.
We didn't talk.
But she didn't flinch when I walked beside her.
That was something.
---
We rode in silence for over an hour, our horses crunching over pine needles and damp earth. The mist clung low to the ground, curling around the hooves like it had claws. The deeper into the trees we went, the colder it got.
When we reached a fork in the trail, Captain Ren turned in his saddle and pointed straight at me.
"You. Sera. And Kael. Sweep the east trail. Stay within horn range."
I gave a short nod.
Kael said nothing, but she turned her horse and followed without hesitation.
---
The forest swallowed us fast.
No birdsong. No wind. Just the soft squelch of boots in moss and the quiet sound of our breathing. We weren't far from the city, but it felt like the edge of the world.
I walked in rhythm with Kael for a while before she broke the silence.
"You always this quiet, or just around people?"
I didn't look at her. "I find silence useful."
"Hm."
A few more steps passed.
"You're not like the others," she said. "Your footwork's too sharp. Your balance too clean. You've trained before. Real training."
She had told me this before but I just shrugged. "My family had guards. I watched them. Practiced a little."
"That wasn't 'a little' in sparring yesterday."
I didn't answer.
She didn't press.
> I liked that about her.
---
We came across a small ridge about twenty minutes in. Below it, the trees opened into a clearing, muddy and scarred. Wagon tracks. Boot prints. Something heavy dragged through the mud.
Kael dropped into a crouch, running a finger along the tracks. "Caravan, probably. Passed recently."
I crouched beside her.
"There's blood," I said quietly. "There. A small splatter. And see this?"
I pointed to a broken branch that had been twisted back into place sloppily.
"Someone tried to cover the trail."
Kael looked at me, brow furrowing.
"You notice everything, don't you?"
I didn't answer right away.
> "I had to," I finally said.
---
We finished the sweep in silence.
But it wasn't empty this time. It felt… heavy. Kael hadn't asked where I was from. Or why I fought the way I did. She didn't ask about my scars. She didn't ask about my silence.
> And because she didn't ask—I let her stay beside me.
---
When we got back, the rest of the squad was lounging at the base of a hill, chewing dry rations and trying to look tougher than they felt.
Captain Ren raised an eyebrow as we approached. "Report."
"Clearing east of the main trail," Kael said. "Signs of a caravan. Possible ambush. Blood. Sera noticed they tried to sweep the tracks."
Ren grunted. "Good. I'll have a scout team check it tomorrow."
Bastien passed close by, eyeing me sideways.
"Make sure the quiet one didn't get lost in the trees, yeah?"
I stepped in front of Kael before she could respond.
"Funny," I said flatly. "I was thinking the same about you."
The air tightened.
Even Kael blinked.
Bastien scowled, but didn't say another word.
---
That night, back at the barracks, I stayed behind on the training field.
I sat at the edge of the sparring ring, oiling my blade by lantern light. It wasn't a real sword—just standard issue, dulled for recruits—but I treated it like it mattered.
I always had.
Kael wandered over at some point and dropped onto the stone beside me.
"You're hard to read," she said, after a while.
"I'm not here to be understood."
She didn't laugh. Just nodded.
"Still," she added, "I think I'd trust you in a fight."
I didn't know what to say to that.
So I just looked at her.
> "I wouldn't let you die," I said softly.
She didn't smile.
But she stayed.
And in Draeven, that was the closest thing to trust.