Adam woke up with a gasp. He was screaming inside, lungs burning, chest hammering like it wanted to shatter. He shot upright, hands grasping at nothing.
"Adam—!"
A chair scraped. Someone moved too fast.
His eyes flickered.
Wood. Warm sunlight. Wooden beams overhead, thick and strong. A window letting in a golden morning. The smell of clean linen and herbs replaced ash and blood.
Melina sat beside him, frozen. Warm, doe-like eyes, frantically anxious. Her brown hair was unkempt. Her hands twisted, eyes wide. She stared, afraid, afraid he would vanish again.
Then her relief cracked her face open.
"You're… you're awake!" she said, voice high, unsteady. She half-stood, leaned forward, almost lunging, then froze, rocking back on trembling legs. "I… I mean… sorry! I just—"
Adam blinked, throat raw. He let his gaze settle, let the world anchor him. The bed was solid. The room spacious, polished wood, lanterns dangling from beams. Bandages folded neatly on a table. He could breathe. He was safe.
He turned his head.
Tani stirred, scales catching the sunlight like sand in a stream. The little sand lizard chirped softly and nudged his arm.
Adam exhaled, hand resting lightly on Tani's head. "Hey," he whispered.
"Mrrpp!!"
Melina let out a laugh, half relief, half sob. "He hasn't left your side," she said. "Not once."
"How long?" he asked.
"Two days," she said. She straightened, clinging to something solid. "After the dungeon collapse, we barely got out. The guild found us, brought us here. You… you were gone for a while." She hesitated, biting her lip. "Someone important showed up, apparently. Lots of… tension."
Adam barely registered her words. He looked at her again. Really looked. Shadows under her eyes, shoulders hunched, like she'd been bracing herself forever.
"Are you… okay?"
Her gaze snapped to him. "Oh! Uh...yeah. Yeah. I'm fine. Just tired. Really tired."
The door slammed open, and Victoria barreled in like a cannonball.
"HE'S AWAKE?!"
Bandages wrapped her arms and cheek, but her grin could have lit the room alone.
"I knew it!" she shouted. "Heroes don't stay unconscious forever!"
"Victoria," a calm voice said, amused. "Please don't scare him, you nearly sent Nita under again."
Alaric stepped in behind her.
Bandages crossed his chest and shoulder, ceremonial now. Wounds long healed. His scarred skin was calm and steady. His blue eyes softened when they met Adam's.
"You scared us," he said quietly.
Victoria jabbed Adam with a finger. "Do you know how worried we were? Halfway through the dungeon collapse, you just, went down!" She smirked. "Melina cried. Big, ugly, waterfall crying."
"Lady Victoria—!" Melina went red, muttering.
Adam let out a short laugh, the first real one since the dungeon. The room felt warmer with them there.
Alaric came closer, hand ruffling Adam's hair. He retracted it before Adam could scowl. "I think we owe someone an apology," he said.
Melina turned, confused.
"Who's that?"
"You," Alaric said, bowing slightly.
"I… what?" She froze. Her brain refused to process.
"I'm sorry," Alaric said. "We wanted to see the dungeon… and you got hurt because of it."
Adam's chest tightened. "We're sorry too," he said quietly.
Victoria leaned forward, crossing arms, playful but sincere. "Yeah. On all of us, really. You didn't have to do that."
Melina shook her head quickly. "I chose to. I knew it would be dangerous. And I… I don't regret it!"
Alaric paused, then said softly, "You said you wanted to go to a mage academy, right?"
"…Yes."
Alaric looked at Victoria. She understood.
"There's the Royal Mage Academy in the capital. Though…" He gestured, voice low, "…it's barely standing these days. Clinging to past glory."
Melina's mouth fell open. Her mind reeled.
"What about… one of the seven towers in Aurelian?" Victoria added, eyes glittering like fire.
Melina's hands clenched in her lap. Tani twitched, sensing the enormity. "I… I can't. Tuition alone is a small fortune." Her voice faltered. "I know I can't get an apprenticeship, and—"
Alaric made a small gesture, and three large coins, heavy and ancient, materialized in his hand. They glinted in the sun casually.
"That takes care of the money problem," he said. "How much do you need?"
Victoria's jaw dropped. "About… one-fourth of that."
Adam sat still, calm. He knew.
Melina shook, stunned. Coins that could feed her entire town for two years… and he offered it to her. She couldn't breathe.
"I… I don't know what to say."
Alaric smiled faintly. "Say nothing. Just take it. Right, Adam?" He rapped Adam's shoulder lightly.
Adam flinched, doubled over in pain.
"Oh—shit! Sorry!"
The room settled around them. Warm, messy, real. Safe.
_______________________________________________
Alaric and Victoria stood across from a man whose back was to them. Adam lounged on the sofa, arms crossed, eyes sharp.
The man poured a glass of deep-red liquor from the bar built into the wall. His attire was precise and commanding: a charcoal-gray vest embroidered in black, a crisp white shirt with a golden cravat, dark gray trousers, and a long black overcoat draped over his shoulders.
Sun-kissed wavy blonde hair framed his face, catching the light.
"Well," he said smoothly, turning to face them, "it's a pleasure to finally meet you all."
He turned, and his eyes glimmered a piercing red, set against features so fair and refined they seemed carved from soft marble. Beautiful, more than most woman.
Victoria didn't hide her distaste. "Can't say I feel the same, Prince Arthur Drogan."
Alaric studied him quietly. He looked young—too polished to be a soldier, too precise to be a politician. Yet there was something in those scarlet eyes, a glint he couldn't name.
Arthur chuckled, soft and deliberate. "Ah, you wound me, dearest Victoria." His gaze slid to Adam. "And you must be Adam, yes? Quite young for a squire. How old are you?"
Adam didn't bother to sugarcoat his animosity. "Old enough, noble bastard."
Alaric felt a flicker of unease. The boy's growing bluntness had always amused him, but now it tugged at something he couldn't ignore. Victoria smirked but said nothing.
"Ah," Arthur murmured, sipping the wine in a slow, deliberate motion. He understood why Adam reacted that way. His family had oppressed Adam's kin for more than a hundred years now.
"And the main event…" His eyes locked on Alaric. "Ser Alaric. I've heard much from Ophelia's group. You seem… formidable. Who knighted you?"
Alaric's jaw tightened imperceptibly. Knighted? Technically, he wasn't. And even Adam had assumed otherwise when they first met. Maybe he had been a Knight once—centuries ago—but the memory was lost.
"I'd rather not discuss it, Prince Arthur," Alaric said, voice steady. Inside, his pulse thumped.
Arthur inclined his head slowly. "I understand."
He set the glass down, leaving more than half the liquor untouched. "You must all know me," he said smoothly. Adam didn't care. Alaric didn't know him. Victoria, however, gave a tight nod. She knew him—too well.
"But," Arthur continued, the corners of his lips curling, "you do not know why I am here."
Adam leaned forward, impatience flickering in his eyes. "Well, say it, then."
Arthur's smile deepened, enigmatic. "I don't feel this is a safe place to say it." He paused, letting the words linger like a shadow. "Later," he added.
Adam huffed and swung to his feet.
"I'm leaving," he said, voice flat, shoulders tense as he moved toward the door.
Alaric's eyes flicked to him, then to Arthur, then to Victoria. Without a word, he followed Adam, leaving Victoria and Arthur alone in the quiet room.
Victoria crossed her arms, gaze sharp. "Well, Prince Arthur. Got anything to say to me?"
"Of course," Arthur replied smoothly, almost too smoothly. He leaned casually against the edge of a table, red eyes catching the light. "Victoria… I want to hear it from your own mouth. What happened?"
Victoria let out a long, tired sigh. "We were boarding a train. My father… he ran. Like a little girl. Left me."
Arthur chuckled. "Uncle has always been… avoidant," he said, voice quiet but precise.
She clenched her jaw, continuing. "I killed the hijackers, but then another group boarded, and they blew the train."
Arthur's expression remained calm. "I see. The Cult of the Walking God is… becoming more active."
Victoria's eyes flicked to him, sharp. "Adam and Alaric saved me. Then we came to this town, met Melina, and went into the dungeon. And there…were monsters."
Arthur raised a brow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Of course there were monsters. It's a dungeon."
"No," Victoria said, voice tense, hard. "Scourge-ridden. Not natural. One made of clay, the other, an animal skeleton."
Arthur leaned back slightly. "And how do you know they were… 'made'?"
"They had cores," Victoria replied, voice clipped. "Red liquid inside. Not blood, something else."
Arthur nodded slowly, lips pressing together. "Cultists...." he murmured, almost to himself.
A pause stretched between them, heavy. Then he spoke, quieter this time, probing. "Victoria… how did you feel when you killed them?"
Victoria blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"
"The hijackers. The cultists. How did you feel?" His voice was blunt, neutral, but not unkind. "Did you think murdering them was justified? Just because they were evil?"
Victoria's lips tightened. For a moment, it seemed like she would stumble, hesitate. Then a shiver of something darker passed through her.
"Yes," she said simply.
Arthur's faint smile was tinged with sadness, almost imperceptible. "I see..."
"And...how do they feel? They have clearly killed as well."
Victoria answered, but she was unsure. "I… don't know."
Arthur's eyes sharpened. "I do."
Victoria's head snapped up. "What do you mean?"
"The boy," Arthur said slowly, voice almost a whisper, "he's filled with hatred. The thirst for revenge is clear in his eyes." He let the words hang, then added, "And him… Ser Alaric? He hates himself. Every breathing moment, guilt presses down on him like an anchor."
Victoria frowned. "How do you know?"
Arthur's red eyes glimmered. "Ophelia's right-hand man told me."
Victoria's brow furrowed. "Victor?"
He nodded.
"How would he know?"
Arthur's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. "You don't know him. But he is a remarkable person. And you… Victoria,"
He smiled fully, "You've amassed quite an interesting company."
Victoria smiled weakly.
"I suppose so."