The next morning, Lina struggled to stay awake. Something heavier than exhaustion nestled in her heart.
A dull gray light spilled through the grimy windows, catching on dust falling in the air. The smell of burnt wood and stale mead clung to the low rafters, heavy enough to taste. People moved in and out of the inn in a practiced rhythm, their boots thudding softly against hardwood as they worked through the aftermath of the night.
Hushed voices filled the space, blending with the clatter of bowls knocking on the tables.
Lina's thoughts drifted; she felt only half-present. Every familiar sound set her on edge, her skin prickling with a quiet, persistent tension—the ease of the night before fading.
"It wasn't alive…" someone muttered.
"Did you hear? They said the armor didn't fail."
Sofia stared down into her bowl of stew, spoon pressed absently to her lips as she listened.
"I heard nothing stopped it. They had to burn the body, armor, and all."
Lina leaned back and pulled the blanket higher, hiding her face as the voices pressed in around her.
"The necromancer reanimated a sentinel."
"That's not possible—"
"Walked straight into a council meeting."
"No one stopped him?"
A pause followed, then a man said, "He stabbed clean through the Minister of War Magic."
A choked gasp rippled through the room.
"—couldn't be stopped. They tied the sentinel down and burned him."
Sofia's spoon clattered against the table, the sharp sound cutting cleanly through the noise.
"That shouldn't be possible," she said, quieter now. "Sentinel armor stops all magic. How could a necromancer reanimate one?"
"Killed him before the armor was sealed," Galdreth offered.
"They can't remove it," Sofia replied, shaking her head. "It's bound to them. Only the mage tower can break that seal. Hell, Sentinels can't even be killed by normal weapons."
"It might be safer to head closer to the capital," Fin said.
Sofia looked up sharply. "That happened at the capital."
Silence settled over the table.
Fin exhaled, then shifted. "Sofia… where are your friends located?"
"Friends?" she echoed, her expression tightening.
"The ones you said I should meet."
Sofia stirred her stew slowly, as if grounding herself. "North. Near the mountains."
Fin grunted in acknowledgment.
Galdreth finished his soup in a few quick swallows. "Are you sure that's where you want to go?" he asked. "We've stayed out of the war this long."
"Where else would we go?" Fin said. "The nobles of Eryndor can't protect us. They can't even protect themselves."
"Why can't we go to Avelis?" Lina asked.
Sofia choked, coughing hard into her sleeve. "And ask the devil himself to keep us safe?"
"Devil?"
"Do you want to live your life as a corpse?"
"I thought he only killed soldiers," Lina said.
Sofia let out a sharp, humorless breath. "Did you not hear what he did to that sentinel? Or the minister?" She leaned forward slightly. "This is war, Lina. Do you think they'd believe retired Eryndorian soldiers just want to live quietly in Avelis?"
Fin nudged Sofia's shoulder lightly.
She coughed once more, then straightened. "We're going to the mountains."
"Why?" Lina asked.
"Somewhere we'll be safe," Sofia said. "Away from Avelis. Away from Eryndorian nobles."
'Where would be safe?'
'Rebels,' Raithe answered.
The word slipped into her thoughts as easily as breath.
'Would that be safe?'
'It depends.'
'On what?'
'Whether they're hiding, or amassing an army.'
Lina shivered.
"Our bags are already tied to the horses," Galdreth said, cutting through the moment.
Fin clapped him on the back and headed toward the stables.
"Foolish," Sofia muttered. She glanced at Lina, her expression hardening. "You shouldn't need to lose someone you care about to fear magic like that."
'I've already lost most of the people I care about,' Lina thought, her mouth tightening.
Sofia turned away. Galdreth followed.
The noise of the inn faded behind them as Lina stepped outside. The group waited near the stables, reins already in hand. Galdreth passed her Chewy's reins without touching her.
They set off together, weaving through the small market as the town stirred uneasily around them. People stood in tight clusters, whispering behind raised hands, their voices low and urgent.
No one laughed.
No one lingered.
Lina kept her gaze forward. They passed the clearing where she had met him the night before. The pull in her chest was gone. She slowed without meaning to.
The absence pressed in harder than anything she had felt the night before.
She stumbled over a loose stone.
Pain flared sharply through her hand as she caught herself.
"Lina?" Fin called.
"I'm fine," she said quickly, pushing herself upright.
She brushed dirt from her knees and wiped at the blood on her palm—but there was no wound.
Her breath caught
The chill that settled into her bones had nothing to do with the air.