They made camp again that night.
Kaela didn't hum this time. Vin didn't crack even a half-smile. And when Warren asked a question—anything, from the name of a passing plant to how long it would take to reach the settlement—the answers came shorter than ever.
"Don't know."
"Depends."
"Sleep."
'They're shutting me out.'
He could feel it. Something about the Will of Envy had changed things. They no longer looked at him like a burden... but something worse.
Like he was dangerous.
They broke camp early the next morning. No jokes. No soft smiles. Just the quiet rhythm of boots in dirt and the endless whisper of the river beside them.
At some point both Vin and Kaela had re-summoned there armors that had been damaged in the fight against the red wolves. The damage was less prevalent now but some soft scratches still lingered.
Along with their armors they had both summoned a weapon once again Vin holding the handle of a sheeted sword and Kaela holding her short sword unsheathed near her side as she walked.
Eventually, trees thinned. The path widened.
And then—he saw it.
Large stone walls. Roughly carved, moss-covered, weather-worn. But sturdy. Beyond them, a series of tiered wooden towers and structures spiraled upward in the distance. A city built into the land like a scar.
Warren felt a strange blend of relief and unease.
A checkpoint came into view first—a wooden guard station flanked by two armored men. They wore rough, practical armor, dyed a dull red. Each had a long iron blade strapped to their back. They didn't look like Vin or Kaela.
They looked like soldiers.
Vin stepped forward and exchanged words with one of them. Warren couldn't hear much. Something about "returning from mission," "confirmed bodies," and "scout credentials." Normal-sounding words.
But their eyes said something else.
As soon as they looked at Warren, the welcoming ease in their faces tightened. Smiles vanished. Brows furrowed. One of them stepped inside and said something through a slit in the wooden station.
The other guard stepped away, walking briskly down a side path.
Warren furrowed his brow. 'Was that a warning? Or a message?'
He glanced at Kaela. She stood a few feet behind, arms crossed tightly. Her eyes didn't meet his.
He didn't ask.
By the time they reached the stone walls of the settlement, the air was too thick to breathe properly.
Warren's stomach twisted with every step. His chest was tight.
Twenty men in iron armor stood waiting. Shields on their backs, weapons gleaming in the midmorning light. At their front stood a tall blond man in half-plate. His eyes were sharp, A bright crimson, and held no warmth at all.
Vin slowed his pace. Kaela followed. Warren stumbled to match them.
The blond man's eyes landed on Warren first, then flicked to Vin.
"Is this him?"
Vin didn't hesitate.
He gave a single, deliberate nod.
Warren blinked. "What—?"
Two armored men broke from the formation and approached. Before Warren could react, one hand seized his left arm, another clamped onto his right.
"Wait, what are you doing?!"
The blond man stepped forward, voice calm and clipped.
"You are suspected of aiding or carrying out the murder of the Vermillion Hunting Party. You will be held in a cell until this matter can be properly investigated."
Warren's heart dropped into his stomach.
"What? No—wait! I didn't—!" he twisted in their grip. "Vin? Kaela?!"
Kaela looked down.
Vin said nothing.
They stood still.
Watching.
As if he were just another stranger on the road.
Warren was dragged forward, the grip on his arms firm and unyielding. The gates of the settlement loomed above, and his heart pounded like a drum in his ears.
He craned his head back one last time.
Still nothing.
Not even a glance.
'They knew this was coming.'
'They led me here on purpose.'
The gates closed behind him with a heavy clang, cutting him off from the forest, from the sky, and from the only people he'd begun to trust.
He was alone again.
Only this time... behind stone walls.
***
The cell was narrow. A stone bench. Rusted iron bars. No window. The walls bled moisture, the cold seeping into Warren's bones. He sat hunched, staring at the floor, the world crashing around him in waves of silence and disbelief.
'What the hell just happened…?'
He replayed the past few days in his head—Kaela's soft laughter, Vin's grudging advice, the warmth of firelight and the unspoken sense of camaraderie.
Gone.
'Were any of those moments even real?'
His knuckles were white, balled into fists on his lap.
'They used me. All that talk about surviving, planning for the future… it was just a game to them. A job.'
Hours passed. Or maybe just minutes. It was hard to tell without sunlight or sound. The only company he had was his thoughts—and they were all bitter.
Then, the silence broke.
Clack. Clack.
He heard a distant door open. The sharp sound of bootsteps echoed down the corridor.
Light crept in from under the door at the far end.
The footsteps stopped.
Then—there she was.
Kaela.
She stood in front of his cell, the tray in her hands trembling slightly. On it: a bowl of stew, some bread, and a cup of water. Her armor was gone, replaced by a casual yet striking outfit that seemed so out of place in the cold stone corridors of a prison.
She wore a light gray tank top, its neckline uneven and slightly frayed like it had been hastily mended or tugged at one too many times. Over it, a loose, oversized plaid shirt hung open, draping off one shoulder, the sleeves rolled sloppily to her elbows. It looked like something borrowed from someone else—too big, and too personal. Her dark high-waisted shorts hugged her hips tightly, the fabric smooth and just a little worn at the edges. The whole ensemble was simple, but on her, it looked careless but confident in a way that made it feel deliberate.
Her hair was tousled, resting unevenly around her shoulders as if the wind had gotten the better of her on the walk over.
She was stunning. In a way that felt unfair.
And all Warren could see was betrayal.
"I know you haven't received food yet," she said gently, forcing a smile. "So I pulled some strings to personally deliver it. Actually, the food here is quite good. Way better than what we had in th—"
"Cut the crap," Warren spat.
Her voice faltered mid-sentence.
Warren stood up, rage flashing across his face as he stepped toward the bars.
"What the hell is going on?"
Kaela's grip on the tray tightened.
"How long were you planning on betraying me? Throwing me in a cell without a second thought?"
She didn't answer. Her eyes dropped to the stone floor.
Warren pressed his face to the bars, his voice rising.
"Was it when I asked about the 'Will of Envy'?"
Still nothing.
"No… it was even before that, wasn't it?" His voice broke into a bitter laugh. "From the second you found me in that cave, you'd already decided I was dangerous. That I wasn't going to leave here free."
He let out a shuddering breath. The pain in his chest was tight now, worse than anything he'd felt in the woods.
"All that time we spent together—laughing, fighting, surviving—it meant nothing to you."
Kaela's shoulders quivered.
"I trusted you!" he shouted. "And you—"
He grabbed the bars so hard his arms trembled. "Keep your damn food. I don't want anything from you anymore. I don't want to see you ever again. Tell Vin the sentiment's the same for hi-."
He looked up from the trey.
Kaela was crying.
Not sobbing. Just… quiet, steady tears. She didn't wipe them away. She didn't speak. Her face was unreadable, except for the pain swimming behind her eyes.
She knelt, placed the tray through the slot beneath the bars, and stood.
Still silent.
Then she turned and walked away.
No defense.
No excuses.
Just her boots echoing against the stone as she disappeared down the corridor.
Warren stared at the tray. At the warm food growing colder with every passing second.
He didn't touch it.
He just sat there, face buried in his hands.
And for the first time since he'd entered this strange new world...
He felt truly alone.