The wayhouse had rules.
Quiet voices. No wandering outside the wardline alone. No touching the "relic" without permission. No arguing with Maera unless you wanted to lose.
But it also had a rhythm—people coming and going with supplies, messengers arriving under ward cover, scouts swapping shifts.
And that meant… visitors.
Not council officials. Not inquisitors.
Normal people.
The kind the Dawnwatch helped in secret when the Sanctum's politics turned ugly.
That afternoon, while Elowen and Maera studied maps over the main table, Sable opened the side door and let in a small group—three women and five girls, all bundled in winter cloaks, cheeks pink from cold.
Refugees, I realized.
Or travelers.
They looked tired, but not broken.
One of the women whispered to Sable, grateful. "We only need an hour. The road patrols—"
Sable nodded, firm. "You'll get warmth and food. Then we'll guide you to the next safe marker."
The girls hovered near the doorway, peeking around the room with bright, curious eyes.
And then—
their gaze landed on me.
I was sitting on the hearth rug, star blanket over my shoulders, pretending I was not enjoying it. Elowen sat at the table behind me, half turned to watch the door.
The moment the girls spotted me, their faces lit up like someone had brought them a miracle instead of a problem.
One of them—a tall girl with braids—whispered, "Is that… a kid?"
A smaller one with freckles leaned forward. "She's cute."
I froze.
My spine went straight.
My cheeks heated so fast I thought my runes might ignite.
"I am not—" I began automatically.
Elowen's voice cut in, calm and careful. "Rin."
I stopped.
Elowen didn't look annoyed—just gently warning, like she could feel my panic rising.
Sable, of course, made it worse by smiling like this was the best thing that had happened all day.
"Oh," Sable said casually, "that's Rin. She's… with us."
One of the girls stepped forward, holding a piece of ribbon she'd been twisting between her fingers.
"Hi," she said, voice bright. "I'm Lysa."
Another girl—round cheeks, soft voice—followed. "I'm Etta."
The braided one lifted her chin like she was introducing herself to a knight. "Marin."
Two more hovered behind them, peeking around shoulders. "N-noa," one whispered. "And… Tali."
Five.
All girls.
All staring at me with the same hopeful curiosity.
My brain did a full collapse.
Friend?
They wanted to talk to me?
Not interrogate me?
Not lock me in a box?
Not call me a relic?
Just… talk?
My mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
My ears went hot.
My body chose the only strategy it trusted:
**RETREAT.**
I scooted backward on the rug until my shoulders bumped Elowen's boot.
Then I scooted more.
Then, without even thinking, I scrambled up and grabbed the edge of Elowen's cloak and hid half my face behind her leg.
Like a frightened child.
Like a kid who'd forgotten how to be a person.
"I'm not a kid," I mumbled into her cloak, voice muffled.
Elowen's hand lowered immediately, resting on my head—steady, protective.
Her chair creaked as she turned slightly, making herself a shield without even standing.
"It's all right," Elowen said softly, directed at both me and the girls. "She's shy."
"I'm not shy," I protested weakly, still hiding.
Elowen's thumb brushed my hair in a slow calming stroke that made my core loop settle.
The girls' faces softened.
Lysa took a cautious half-step closer—but stopped at a respectful distance.
"That's okay," she said gently. "We can be quiet too."
Etta nodded quickly. "We just thought… you looked lonely."
My throat tightened.
I wanted to say *I'm not lonely*.
But the truth was… I had been.
Even here, even safe, my world was mostly adults with weapons and ward maps.
Adults who cared, yes—but still adults.
And these girls looked at me like I was just… another kid.
Not a prophecy problem.
Not a seal key.
Just someone who could laugh at breakfast and pout at doors.
Marin cleared her throat, trying to sound brave. "Do you… want to be friends?"
The word hit my chest like warmth.
Friends.
A normal thing.
A precious thing.
My fingers tightened on Elowen's cloak.
I peeked out just a little—one eye, cautious.
All five girls waited.
No pressure.
No demand.
Just hope.
My cheeks burned.
I hid again instantly.
Elowen's hand stayed on my head, gentle and steady.
"You don't have to decide right now," Elowen murmured through the bond. > *Breathe.*
I breathed.
In.
Out.
My anchor steadied.
I peeked out again, a little more this time.
"…Maybe," I whispered.
It came out so small I wasn't sure anyone heard.
But they did.
Lysa's face lit up so bright it hurt to look at.
Etta clasped her hands. "Really?"
I shrank behind Elowen again, mortified. "Don't make it a big deal!"
Tali giggled softly. "It's a big deal."
Noa nodded like she was agreeing with a sacred truth. "Very big."
I made a distressed sound and pressed my face into Elowen's cloak.
Elowen's shoulders shook faintly with silent laughter.
Maera, at the table, didn't look up from the map. "If anyone makes the relic cry again, I'm banning visitors."
Sable said cheerfully, "That's fair."
The girls immediately went wide-eyed and started shaking their heads.
"No crying!" Marin promised. "We'll be nice!"
"We'll be gentle!" Etta added.
"We can just sit," Lysa said quickly. "We can just… be there."
My chest tightened again.
I peeked out—just a little—then whispered, still hiding:
"…Can you sit over there?"
I pointed vaguely at the hearth rug area, two steps away from Elowen's chair, as if distance would save my dignity.
The girls nodded eagerly and sat down on the rug in a neat little cluster, hands folded, trying very hard not to look like they were exploding with excitement.
I stared.
They were really doing it.
Really waiting.
Really being patient.
I swallowed, then shuffled just an inch out from behind Elowen.
Elowen's hand stayed on my head until I steadied—then lifted slowly, giving me the choice.
My voice came out small.
"I'm… Rin."
Lysa smiled. "Hi, Rin."
Etta scooted a tiny bit closer. "Do you like… ribbons? Or games? Or—"
I panicked again and darted back behind Elowen.
Elowen sighed fondly and rested her palm on my head once more.
"It's okay," she whispered. "One step."
I nodded into her cloak, cheeks burning.
Then, in the tiniest voice imaginable, I added:
"…Mommy. Stay."
Elowen's reply was immediate, warm, and steady enough to anchor a storm.
"I'm right here."
And with that promise behind me like a shield, I peeked out again—still embarrassed, still hiding—
but now… a little braver.
Because for the first time, "friends" didn't feel like a trap.
It felt like something safe could grow.