Eliot's ears rang with Rob's last words.
"You will pay for this."
The wind hissed through the tall grass as the two men faced one another, swords raised, the fading light glinting off steel. Tension thickened the air until even the world itself seemed to hold its breath.
Then Eliot moved.
He lunged forward with blinding speed, his silver blade flashing like lightning in the dusk. Rob met him head-on, his dark sword carving through the air in a vicious arc.
Steel collided.
Sparks burst between them.
Each strike echoed across the field as their blades clashed again and again—precision against fury, discipline against chaos.
Rob smirked, arrogance gleaming in his eyes.
In one fluid motion, he shifted from defense to a ruthless assault, twisting his body into an acrobatic strike that sent his blackened blade whistling toward Eliot's side. Darkness seemed to trail behind every swing, as though the sword itself fed on the night.
Eliot gritted his teeth and countered, every movement sharpened by years of battle. Their duel became a deadly dance—bursts of violent speed followed by fleeting moments of stillness, each man studying the other for the smallest weakness.
And yet…
How had it come to this?
---
Fourteen Hours Earlier
Lily had been waiting for this day for what felt like forever.
Today was her fifth birthday.
More importantly, it was the day her father was finally coming home.
Her merchant father often left their village for weeks at a time, traveling across distant towns to trade rare goods brought in by river pirates and wandering caravans. Every time he left, the cottage felt quieter, emptier.
But today was different.
Today was Tel Am.
In Riversville, Tel Am was one of the oldest and most sacred traditions. Families crafted delicate lantern boats and set them adrift along the river, their glowing lights carrying prayers and offerings for the dead.
The elders believed that on this night, heaven opened its gates, allowing lost souls to walk once more among the living.
And this year, Eliot had promised he would be home for it.
Lily sat still as her mother carefully finished braiding her thick, curly reddish-orange hair.
The gentle tug of Lucy's fingers was warm and comforting, and Lily smiled as she admired the braid falling over her shoulder.
"Do you like it?" her mother asked softly.
Lily nodded, touching the braid with careful fingers.
"It's pretty," she whispered. Then her green eyes brightened. "I hope Papa likes it too."
Lucy smiled and kissed her forehead.
"He will, my love."
But beneath her smile, something heavy stirred in her chest.
A cold tightness.
She knew how much Lily missed her father whenever he was gone. Yet Eliot's work was what kept food on their table and a roof over their heads.
"Come now," Lucy said, standing and offering her hand. "Let's wait for your father outside and have breakfast together."
"Okay, Mama!"
Lily slipped her tiny hand into hers, and together they stepped outside their cottage.
The morning air was sweet with the scent of blooming flowers from Lucy's garden. Birds chirped from the dense forest surrounding the cottage, their songs blending with the soft rustle of leaves overhead.
Golden sunlight filtered through the canopy, painting the world in warm, sleepy light.
Their home sat high on the mountainside above the village market, tucked safely within the forest. Eliot had built it himself after their marriage, a place far from noise and close to the sky.
"Lily, can you fetch the vegetables for me?" Lucy asked.
"Yes, Mama!"
Lily hurried toward the table, only to stop when she realized the vegetables were too high for her to reach.
Her lips pursed in concentration.
Then an idea lit up her face.
She dragged a nearby wooden chair across the ground, the legs scraping softly against the earth. Climbing onto it with determined little movements, she stretched her tiny arms as far as they would go.
Almost.
A little more.
Her fingers brushed the vegetables.
Got it!
A bright smile spread across her face as she triumphantly held them up.
Lucy laughed softly.
"Thank you, love."
Before Lily could answer, a distant sound drifted through the trees.
Wheels.
Hooves.
The faint rattle of a caravan climbing the mountain road.
Both mother and daughter turned toward the sound.
Then Lily saw him.
A figure emerged between the trees, seated atop a sleek black horse beside his caravan.
Though she barely remembered his face, something in Lily's heart recognized him instantly.
Papa.
Sunlight caught in Eliot's curly orange hair as he removed his hat and lifted a hand in greeting.
Lucy's breath caught.
Tears welled in her eyes before she could stop them.
The moment the caravan reached the cottage, Eliot dismounted, giving his horse an affectionate pat as it snorted softly in response.
Then Lily ran.
"Papa!"
She launched herself into his arms.
Eliot laughed, catching her easily and lifting her high.
"Oh, Lily," he said, his voice thick with emotion, "you've grown so much."
Lily wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of leather, wind, and travel dust.
For a moment, she never wanted him to let go.
Then Eliot looked up.
"Lucy."
The way he said her name made Lucy's tears spill freely.
"Eliot," she whispered.
He gently set Lily down before pulling Lucy into his arms.
Their embrace was long, warm, and full of everything words could never fully say.
"We missed you," Lucy whispered against his shoulder.
Eliot held her closer.
"I know," he murmured. "I'm here now."
The words filled Lily's little chest with warmth.
This was what home felt like.
Soon they gathered around the breakfast table in the front yard.
The smell of garlic herb roasted chicken filled the air, rich and savory enough to make Eliot grin the moment he sat down.
"Oh, I could smell this from halfway down the mountain," he said, shrugging off his black coat.
Lucy laughed. "We made your favorite."
He sat beside Lily and smiled warmly.
"I've tasted dishes from every town I visited, but nothing ever tastes like home the way your mother's cooking does."
Lucy shook her head with a grin.
"You always know how to flatter me."
"It's only because it's true."
Lily giggled as her parents laughed together.
The sound made her chest feel warm and light.
Eliot turned toward her, his eyes softening.
"You really have grown."
"Did I, Papa?" Lily asked shyly.
He nodded, studying her face.
The sunlight made her fair skin glow, and her bright green eyes sparkled with happiness.
"I love your braid," he said. "Did you do it yourself?"
"Mama did it for me," Lily said proudly.
Lucy winked.
Eliot suddenly stood.
"Wait," he said. "I almost forgot."
He walked to the caravan and returned carrying a small jade box embroidered with a golden rose.
Lily's eyes widened.
"For me?"
"For the birthday girl."
She carefully opened it.
Inside lay a golden hairpin shaped like a rose, with a shining green gem at its center.
Lily gasped.
"It's beautiful."
Eliot smiled and gently pinned it into her braid.
"There," he said softly. "Even more beautiful now."
Lucy watched them, warmth shining in her smile.
Then she handed Lily a small brown box.
"And this is from me."
Lily hugged both gifts close to her chest.
"Thank you, Mama. Thank you, Papa."
The family leaned into a warm embrace, wrapped in laughter, love, and the golden glow of morning.
For one perfect moment, the world felt safe.
"Alright," Lucy said brightly as they returned to their seats. "Time to eat."
"Yes!" Eliot laughed.
"Me too!" Lily pointed dramatically at the whole roasted chicken. "I can eat all of that!"
Her parents burst into laughter.
"Of course you can," Eliot said.
And beneath the morning sun, surrounded by flowers, birdsong, and the people she loved most, Lily savored every bite of the happiest breakfast she had ever known.
Lucy glanced at Eliot with gentle curiosity.
"So," she asked, placing another piece of roasted chicken onto his plate, "tell us about your journey. Which towns did you visit this time?"
Eliot smiled, clearly pleased by the question.
"More places than I can count," he said with a soft laugh. "I traveled beyond the southern rivers this time, all the way to the trading ports near the Crescent Coast."
Lily's eyes widened with wonder.
"The Crescent Coast?" she repeated, the unfamiliar words sounding magical on her tongue.
Eliot nodded and leaned back slightly, settling into the story.
"The markets there are unlike anything here," he said. "Stalls overflowing with shimmering silks, gemstones from the eastern deserts, and spices so strong you can smell them from streets away."
Lucy listened with quiet fascination, resting her chin lightly on her hand.
"And the people?" she asked.
"All kinds," Eliot replied. "Merchants from distant kingdoms, sailors, wandering magus, and even dragon riders passing through the ports."
At that, Lily nearly forgot to chew.
"Did you see dragons?" she asked excitedly.
Eliot chuckled at her expression.
"A few," he admitted. "Far in the sky, flying above the sea cliffs. One was so large it cast a shadow over an entire ship."
Lily's mouth fell open in awe.
Lucy smiled at the sight of her daughter's wonder before turning back to Eliot.
"It sounds dangerous," she said softly, a hint of concern in her voice.
His gaze softened as it met hers.
"It can be," he admitted. "But every mile is worth it when I know I'm coming home to both of you."
Lucy's cheeks warmed, and Lily grinned at the way her mother tried—and failed—to hide her smile.
For a moment, the world felt peaceful again, filled only with the clinking of plates, the scent of herbs and roasted chicken, and Eliot's stories from lands far beyond Lily's imagination.