It was unrealistic to ask twenty thousand soldiers to get ready overnight. They needed another day before we were ready to set out. That was today, in a few hours.

  The streets of Veridian were too quiet. Most of the city was still asleep, unaware an army would march out the gates in a few hours. I walked through the artisan quarter alone, my breath misting. The cobblestones were slick but I didn't care to walk carefully.

  I'd left Ragna snoring in her room. She'd wanted to come, but I told her no. This was something I needed to do alone. She'd grumbled about it, then rolled over and went back to sleep. The girl could sleep through an earthquake if given the chance.

  The Halden workshop was still a ruin. Charred timbers stuck out of the ground, and the smell of ash was everywhere. I stood there, looking at what was left.

  Not much.

  How much can a single life contain?

  A family workshop that had stood for generations, gone in a single night. Halden's hands had shaped wood into chairs and cradles, and his son had learned the same trade here. His grandson was supposed to inherit it. And yet…

  The Black Concord took all of that, all the potential and all the future, because they wanted trees.

  Just trees.

  I heard movement behind the ruins. The cellar door creaked open and Finn emerged, carrying a bucket of water. He froze when he saw me.

  "Big Brother Thorvyn?"

  I wasn't his brother. I was the guy who'd failed to save his grandfather. But I didn't correct him.

  "Morning, Finn."

  He set the bucket down and walked over, his steps careful on the debris-strewn ground. He looked different from the last time I'd seen him. Less hollow. The boy who'd been a ghost in his own skin now had color in his cheeks and steadiness in his gaze.

  "Old Dara said you were leaving today," he said. "With the Princess's army."

  "That's right."

  "Are you going to fight the bad prince?"

  The bad prince. Such simple words for such a complicated truth. Kaelan wasn't just bad. He was desperate, manipulated, and drowning in forces he didn't understand. But to this boy, the world was simpler. Good people and bad people. Heroes and villains.

  I envied that clarity.

  "Yes," I said. "We're going to fight him."

  Finn nodded, accepting this as fact. Then he looked up at me with those too-old eyes.

  "Will you come back?"

  The question hung in the cold air between us.

  I could have lied. It would have been easy. A simple "of course" or "don't worry about it" would have sent him back to the cellar with a lighter heart. But I'd promised myself I wouldn't lie to this boy. He'd been lied to enough. By circumstances, by fate, by a world that took his father and grandfather and left him with nothing but ash.

  "I don't know," I said.

  Finn's expression didn't change. He just nodded again, as if he'd expected that answer.

  "That's what Grandpa used to say when I asked if he'd finish a project on time. 'I don't know, Finn. But I'll try my best.'" A small smile flickered across his face. "He always finished them, though. Even when he said he didn't know."

  Smart kid.

  "Your grandpa sounds like he was a good man."

  "He was." Finn's voice was steady. Not sad, just certain. "He taught me that you don't make promises you can't keep. But at least you try your best. No matter what."

  Mother was right, promises are a heavy thing.

  I reached into my cloak and pulled out the small bundle I'd prepared the night before. It was wrapped in oiled cloth, tied with simple twine. I handed it to Finn.

  "What's this?"

  "Open it."

  He untied the twine with careful fingers and unwrapped the cloth. Inside was a small knife, the kind a carpenter might use for detail work. The blade was simple but very well-made, the handle smooth and balanced. It had belonged to Halden.

  It was the Princess who found it in the cellar. She’d come to see this place after I told her about it, and one of her Skills noticed this. Isolde wanted me to give this to Finn. It was one of the few tools that had survived the fire.

  "This was your grandfather's," I said. "I thought you should have it."

  Finn stared at the knife, his fingers tracing the worn handle. For a moment, I thought he might cry. But instead, he looked up at me with fierce determination.

  "I'll take care of it. I'll use it to rebuild. Just like Grandpa would have wanted."

  "I know you will."

  I also pulled out a pouch of coins. Not a fortune, but enough to get him started. Enough to buy wood, to hire help if he needed it, to turn the ruins behind us into something living again.

  "This is for the rebuild," I said, pressing the pouch into his free hand. "Old Dara will help you manage it. She's a good woman. Trust her."

  Finn's eyes went wide. "T-this is too much. I can't take it…"

  "You can. And you will." I knelt down, bringing myself to his eye level. "Listen to me, Finn. Your grandfather died protecting something important. The Ironwood Grove and the legacy of your family… That grove is still there, hidden and safe. One day, when you're older and stronger, you'll be its guardian. Maybe you’ll find people you can use that for. But for now, you focus on rebuilding this workshop. You focus on learning the trade. You honor your father and grandfather by living well."

  "Will you teach me to fight?" The question came out in a rush. "So I can protect the grove like you protected me?"

  I hesitated.

  Part of me wanted to say yes. To promise I'd return and train him, turn him into a warrior who could defend his legacy with blade and fist. But that would be another lie. The path I walked was a bloody one, and I had no right to drag a child onto it.

  "Fighting isn't the only way to be strong," I said. "Your grandfather was strong because he knew his craft. Because he raised a family. And because he stood by his principles even when it cost him everything. That's strength, Finn. Real strength. It lasts even in death."

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Finn looked down at the knife in his hand.

  "But… you fight."

  "I do. Because that's the path I chose, that I was born into. But it's not the only path." I placed a hand on his shoulder. "My father died, Finn. He died protecting my tribe from a beast. I’m just walking in his shoes. You want to be strong? Master your father’s and grandfather's trade. Learn to create instead of destroy. Build things that last. Choose a good class. That’s how you honor him. Who knows, maybe one day you’ll make me a great weapon?"

  For a moment, Finn was silent. Then he nodded.

  "Okay. I'll do that. But Big Brother Thorvyn?"

  "Yeah?"

  "If you do come back..." He looked up at me with a small, hopeful smile. "Will you visit? I want to show you what I've built."

  If I come back.

  The thought weighed more than it should have. I'd faced death more times than I could count since arriving in this world. I'd walked into dragon lairs and cultist rituals without hesitation. But standing here, looking at this boy's hopeful face, I felt the importance of mortality in a way I hadn't before.

  What if I don't come back? What if the march to Solstara is the last thing I do?

  This wasn’t a story that’d end with a ‘happily ever after’ note. If it were, I’d have saved Finn’s grandfather like some miracle. Death was real. For me, for Isolde, and for Ragna. For Borric too. Although something told me that man was the hardest to kill among us.

  The questions spiraled through my mind, but I pushed them aside. Philosophy had taught me that uncertainty was the only certainty. You couldn't know the future. All you could do was act in the present and hope your choices mattered.

  "I'll visit," I said. "That's a promise."

  Finn's smile widened. "Then you'll definitely come back. Because you keep your promises."

  Do I?

  I thought of Halden, dead against an ironwood tree. I thought of the promise I'd made to save him. A promise I'd broken through no fault of my own, but broken nonetheless.

  Promises are debts, I thought. And debts must be paid.

  “You did save him, Big Brother,” Finn suddenly said. “By saving the grove from evil. Didn’t you save him?”

  I was stunned for a moment. Was this boy… consoling me? Suddenly, I wanted to see where he would be in ten years' time. I stood up and ruffled Finn's hair. "Get back inside before Old Dara worries. And take care of yourself."

  "You too, Big Brother."

  I turned and walked away, not looking back. If I looked back, I might stay. And there was a war waiting for me.

  Behind me, I heard Finn's voice, small but clear in the morning quiet.

  "Thank you!"

  I didn't answer. I waved without looking back and just kept walking.

  The sun was beginning to rise now, painting the sky in shades of gold and crimson. The city was waking up. Shutters opened, doors creaked, and the first sounds of daily life began to fill the streets.

  Veridian was a city of order. Clean streets, disciplined guards, and a ruler who controlled everything with an iron fist wrapped in silk. It was impressive in its way. But it wasn't home.

  Home was the scary volcanic island where warriors fought dragons and children grew up knowing the taste of ash. Home was a place where strength mattered more than bloodline, where even an outcast with white hair could earn his place through sheer will. Home was… back on Earth.

  Mother. Thorvyn’s mother… When will I find her?

  The question came unbidden, and I didn't have an answer. Ethenia Empire. I had to survive this war if I wanted to go there.

  ****

  The eastern gate of Veridian was a spectacle.

  The eastern gate was packed. Rows of soldiers in formation, armor gleaming, stood under the morning sun. Banners with the silver falcon snapped in the wind as horses stamped around them. Supply wagons loaded with everything an army needed to not starve on the road waited on the side.

  I'd seen armies before. In my previous life, I'd watched parades and military drills on screens, distant and sanitized. This was different.

  Perhaps it was because this was more medieval? This felt more real. The smell of leather and steel, the sound of thousands of voices murmuring in anticipation, the weight of imminent violence hanging over everything like a storm cloud.

  A real war.

  I walked through the assembled troops, heading toward the front where Isolde and the others were gathered. Soldiers turned to watch me pass, their expressions a mix of curiosity and wariness. I was a barbarian in their midst, a savage from the islands.

  An outsider.

  But I was also the man who'd killed a Domain-Lord.

  Word had spread. The Veridian Guard respected strength, and I'd proven mine in blood.

  Two older spearmen near the gate were talking low, the way veterans do when they forget anyone is listening.

  "Last time we marched under the falcon like this, it was Crown Prince Valtor at the front," one muttered. "Ahh, good times."

  "Hey, hey, careful now.." the other said, though he didn’t sound angry. Just tired. "Traitors don’t lead banners."

  This nation’s people seemed really fond of the former crown prince. What pushed him to betray their trust, really? Sadly I could only be curious. I found Ragna near the horses, adjusting the straps on her saddle. She looked up when I approached, her face brightening.

  "There you are! I thought you'd gotten lost."

  "Just tying up loose ends."

  "How's the kid?"

  "Alive. Rebuilding." I paused and smiled. "He'll be fine."

  Ragna studied my face for a moment, then nodded. She didn't push. That was one of the things I appreciated about her. She knew when to ask too many questions and when to let silence do the talking.

  "Our horses are ready. Yours is better though," she said, gesturing to a massive black stallion next to hers. "Marius had it brought over this morning. Said you'd need something that could handle your weight."

  I looked at the horse. It looked back at me with intelligent eyes, as if measuring whether I was worth carrying.

  "Let's hope it doesn't throw me."

  "If it does, I'll laugh."

  "I know you will."

  I mounted the horse, and it shifted beneath me but didn't protest. Good. The last thing I needed was to wrestle a stubborn animal in front of an entire army.

  A horn sounded, clear and sharp. The murmuring died down. All eyes turned to the front of the formation.

  Isolde Thalasson stood on a raised platform between Marius and Yasafina. She was wearing silver armor I'd never seen before, etched with designs that caught the light, along with a blue cloak and a circlet on her head.

  She looked like a Queen.

  No, I corrected myself. She looks like what a queen is supposed to be.

  I couldn’t give her too much credit just yet. She had a lot to learn. Isolde's voice rang out, amplified by some magical means so that everyone could hear.

  "Soldiers of Veridian! Warriors of Thalassaria!"

  The crowd fell silent.

  "Today we march to Solstara. We march to reclaim what was stolen." Her voice carried across the crowd, amplified by magic. "My brother sits on a throne built on treachery. He's made pacts with forces that want our kingdom destroyed. He must be stopped."

  Her words were simple, direct. No flowery speeches, nor any grand declarations.

  "I will not lie to you. This will not be easy. Many of you will not return. You will face hardship, danger, and even death. But you will also face it with honor. My soldiers, you will fight for a kingdom that deserves better than tyranny. You will fight for your families, your homes, and your future!"

  I watched the soldiers' faces. Some looked scared. Others looked determined. All of them were listening.

  "I am Isolde Thalasson, rightful heir to the Crown. And I swear to you, on my mother's memory and my father's legacy, that I will not rest until Thalassaria is free. Will you march with me?"

  The response was a roar.

  Thousands of voices shouting as one, a wave of sound that shook the very air. Weapons were raised, fists pumped, and the army became a living thing, pulsing with energy and purpose.

  Isolde didn't smile. She just nodded, accepting their loyalty as her due.

  She stepped down from the platform and mounted her horse, a white mare with a mane like silk. Marius took his place to her right, his expression proud. Yasafina took her left, her golden eyes scanning the crowd for threats.

  Ragna and I moved to flank them as well, forming a protective ring around the future queen.

  The horn sounded again. The march began.

  We moved through the city gates, the sound of thousands of boots striking the ground in unison. The people of Veridian lined the streets, watching us pass. Some cheered. Others were silent, their faces grim.

  They knew what this meant. War was coming to their doorstep, and when it did, nothing would be the same.

  I glanced back one last time as we left the city. Standing at the gate, small and alone, was Finn. He raised a hand in farewell. I raised mine in return.

  I'll come back, I thought. That's a promise.

  A promise to myself as the army marched on.

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