"Then… let's walk together."
The two of them left that house — not with the same heavy atmosphere as before, but with something lighter.
Seralyn was sitting on a fallen log, sharpening her blade with calm, measured movements. When she heard their footsteps, she lifted her eyes and raised an eyebrow.
"Finally came out." Her voice carried irony, but there was also curiosity hidden in her gaze.
Tila, who was tending to a low fire and trying to keep the warmth alive, stood up with a small smile. "You took your time… but you seem fine. Better than before, at least."
Bruno scratched the back of his neck, looking away, as if Tila's words were subtle barbs. Anaalyn, on the other hand, walked steadily beside him, though the tension in her shoulders betrayed that she was still processing every word said inside.
"Yeah, well…" Bruno cleared his throat, awkward. "We had… a long talk."
Seralyn chuckled softly, tilting her head. "A long talk, huh? That's a polite way of saying you were about to kill each other earlier, and now you look like best friends."
Anaalyn shot her a hard look but didn't reply.
Tila stepped closer, her eyes scanning the two as if searching for something invisible. "What matters is that you're here. Together. And… maybe stronger than before."
Bruno sighed, running a hand through his hair, damp with sweat and ashes. "Stronger? Maybe. More complicated? Definitely."
Anaalyn glanced at him from the side, almost allowing a smile but holding it back. There was still pain, still hatred — but for the first time, there was room for something else too.
Seralyn resumed sharpening her blade, murmuring with a hint of mischief, "Complicated is just another word for interesting."
Bruno looked at Anaalyn — serious, but without harshness. The weight of the last few hours still hung in the air.
"Are you really leaving?" His voice came out low, almost disappointed.
Anaalyn adjusted the axe strapped to her back and crossed her arms. "My family needs me — or at least needs to know I'm okay."
Seralyn lifted her sword with a crooked smile. "Already leaving? I thought you'd want a few more chances to try and kill us first."
Anaalyn narrowed her eyes but didn't respond right away.
Tila sighed and shook her head. "Strange, coming from you, Seralyn. Usually, you're the one who stabs first and talks later."
Seralyn shrugged, not denying it. "So what? I still think it's weird for someone to change their mind that fast. One minute she's got a blade at Bruno's throat, the next… she wants to go home."
"It's not that simple," Anaalyn finally spoke, firmly. "Life never is. You don't need to understand."
"Don't worry. Just make the most of the time you have with the ones you love." Bruno's expression darkened. "Otherwise, you might get teleported to a world without a choice."
Anaalyn raised an eyebrow, confused.
"What?"
Bruno blinked and looked away, trying to brush it off.
"Nothing. Just… being philosophical."
Tila chuckled softly.
"Philosophical? You? Sounds more like grumpy old-man ranting."
Bruno sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his chest.
"Wow, now I'm hurt. First I'm called dense, now old."
Seralyn let out a short laugh without taking her eyes off the road.
"Let's be honest… you're both."
Bruno opened his mouth to reply but ended up laughing too, shaking his head.
"You guys never leave me alone, even when I'm trying to be deep."
Anaalyn, trying to suppress a laugh, added:
"Better this way. Otherwise, you'll start writing dark poetry about portals and tragic fates."
Bruno feigned indignation.
"And what's wrong with that? Maybe I will."
"Sorry about the assassination attempt," Anaalyn said.
"Heh… yeah, it really does sound weird when you put it like that."
Anaalyn sighed, a little embarrassed, but with a timid smile hidden at the corner of her lips.
"Well… goodbye."
"Goodbye," he replied, his voice softer than he intended.
For a second, they just stared at each other, as if neither wanted to be the first to turn away. There was something unspoken there, but Anaalyn was the first to take a step back, adjusting the hammer on her back and taking a deep breath.
As the group walked along the path littered with ash and broken branches, Bruno suddenly slowed his pace. He stopped completely, without a word, and turned around — toward the house that was now fading into the shadows of the forest.
"You okay?" Tila asked softly, approaching with concern over his sudden silence.
"Don't tell me you liked that little dwarf…" Seralyn teased with a crooked smile, but it vanished quickly, replaced by a tense expression she couldn't explain.
Tila noticed.
"You felt it too, Seralyn?"
The elf took a deep breath.
"I did… and I don't like it."
Bruno ran a hand through his hair, still staring into the distance.
"It's not about her. The forest's magic… hasn't stopped." He closed his eyes for a moment. "It's not stronger, not weaker. It's moving."
Tila's eyes widened, and she froze mid-step.
"The brother… he's already here. And this time, earlier than expected."
Silence fell over the group for a few seconds, until Bruno sighed, heavy with irony.
"This cycle of revenge is getting boring," he muttered with a tired half-smile. "Someone should tell them this story's past its expiration date."
Seralyn spun her sword in the air and rested it on her shoulder, a spark of excitement in her eyes.
"Then let's end this story."
Tila looked at Bruno, waiting for his decision.
"What do we do now?"
"Stay here," Bruno said firmly, taking two steps forward, ready to go alone toward the presence he felt ahead.
But before he could go far, Seralyn stepped in front of him, sword in hand and a determined look on her face.
"No," she said sharply. "We're not your dogs, and we're not children for you to order around while you go play hero."
Tila walked up beside her, her voice softer but no less firm:
"You know why we fight, Bruno… It's because you're scared." She took a deep breath. "And that's not fair. Because in the end, you're the one who gets hurt… and we can only watch. How do you think that makes us feel?"
Bruno paused for a moment, his gaze shifting between the two. When he spoke again, his voice was calmer — and heavier.
"I'm not doing this out of fear…" he said honestly. "I'm doing it to be prepared."
He looked toward the dark horizon ahead, as if he could see what was coming.
"You don't understand… When the two mages die — and they will die — who do you think will show up?" He paused, and the answer came with weight. "Their father."
Silence dropped like a stone among them. Even Seralyn, who never backed down from a fight, seemed to hesitate.
"And he… will be fast," Bruno continued. "Fast and deadly."
He took a deep breath and walked back to them, looking into each of their eyes.
"I want you to train for that. I don't want you jumping into a fight just because you think you need to stand by my side." His voice now sounded more like a plea than an order. "You handled Líria well… but her father? He's at least three times stronger."
Bruno placed a hand on Tila's shoulder and then on Seralyn's, with an almost brotherly look.
"So don't sit in a corner crying or blaming yourselves for not being there. Be… stronger than ever."
Seralyn lowered her gaze, biting her lip, torn between pride and understanding.
Tila, on the other hand, clenched her fist with determination.
"Then we train…" she murmured. "Until even their father is afraid to face us."
Bruno gave a small, satisfied smile and began to walk again — this time, knowing he wasn't leaving cowards behind, but future warriors.
---
In the forest
"Grandpa must be super mad at me," Anaalyn muttered, pressing her throat lightly. "See, kid? That's what happens when you get involved in grown-up problems."
She walked past the burned trees — not just charred, but almost pulverized.
"Who could they have been fighting to cause all this chaos?"
"So… you know him, don't you?"
The voice caught her off guard — low, rough, and heavy enough to make the air around her feel denser.
Anaalyn spun around immediately, hammer in hand, eyes scanning the silent forest. Ash still fell like black snow, covering every dead leaf on the ground.
"Who's there?!" she shouted, trying to keep her voice steady, even though her heart was racing.
From the shadows between the burned trees, a figure moved calmly. Its footsteps were too light for an ordinary person — calculated, almost predatory. The black cloak swayed with the wind, and beneath it, golden eyes gleamed in the gloom.
"So you know him, don't you?" the voice repeated, now closer. "The boy with red eyes… the one who carries blood and regret on his shoulders."
Anaalyn swallowed hard. For a moment, she considered backing away, but her feet stayed firmly on the ground.
"If you're talking about Bruno, yes… I know him," she said firmly. "And you… who the hell are you?"
A small smile formed on the face hidden beneath the hood's shadow.
"Someone who knows him. Someone who knows what he's done — and what he's yet to do."
Anaalyn gripped her hammer tighter. Every instinct screamed that this presence was no ordinary enemy.
"If you came here just to speak in riddles, you can leave."
"Oh, no…" the stranger said, taking another step forward. "I came because fate is starting to move again. Because what he started… is far from over."
A heavy silence fell between them — even the wind seemed to stop.
"And you, little girl…" the stranger tilted his head. "Will you fight by his side… or be devoured by the same fate that consumed your father?"
Anaalyn's heart froze for a moment. She wanted to scream, to attack — but the only thing she managed was to take a step forward and ask:
"Who are you? And how the hell do you know that, you bastard?!"
The man stopped, the hood's shadow still hiding his face. The answer came in a whisper, as if the world itself feared to hear it:
"Lerio… the mage who controls souls. And your hero… killed my sister."