David approached the door to their room, two silver coins clenched in his fist. They felt heavy. He raised his hand, but the door creaked open before he could push it.

  Sophie stood there, arms crossed. “What took you so long?”

  He looked away, scratching at the back of his neck. “I messed up a bit. Nothing serious.”

  She frowned, but didn’t press. David hesitated.

  How much should I tell her?

  He stepped inside. “I found her. Her name is Viera.”

  Sophie blinked. “Wait, really? That’s great.”

  He nodded. “She looked completely different, but I found her by her mana. She was using some kind of illusion spell.”

  The memory of a knife at his throat was fresh in his mind, but he didn’t want to worry Sophie. “I confronted her… and we talked. She seemed… legitimate enough.”

  “You sure?” Sophie’s eyes narrowed. “You seem rattled.”

  David let out a breath. “No. Yes. I think we don’t have a better option. She sold the herbs. Gave me these.” He held out the coins.

  Sophie studied them for a second, then exhaled slowly. “I asked around too. Just a few shops nearby. Nobody’s buying much unless it’s food… Mostly. I don’t think we’ll find a better deal.”

  Thought so. David nodded. “So… what do you think? How much can we make?”

  “With your mana sight and risk like last time?” She pursed her lips. “Maybe ten silver a day. But without seeing actual prices, it’s just guessing.”

  “We’ll check with Viera which ones are worth the most,” David said. “She let me know how to find her… properly.”

  “Do I even want to ask?” Sophie shook her head, then was quiet for a moment. “Are we going to take risks like that every day?”

  David didn’t answer at first. He didn’t like it either. But more importantly, It wasn’t fair to force Sophie, after all she’s been through, to risk even more harm. He made up his mind.

  “You don’t have to,” he said finally. “I’ll do it myself.”

  Sophie tilted her head, studying him. “That’s stupid. Of course I’ll help,” she said. “I’m just… worried.”

  David understood that. He met her eyes. “If anything happens, I’ll protect you.”

  She chuckled, but stopped. “You will protect me.” She put her hands on her hips.

  “Yes.” His voice lowered. “I can’t explain yet. Just trust me.”

  “You’re serious? Sure. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  David had been slacking on training, ever since the village fell. Too busy surviving—but no more of that.

  He’d get stronger and maybe… learn how to control those claws. As he recently found out, he could make them grow and vanish with some effort.

  That elevated them from a cursed chore, into a weapon of convenience.

  If it came to it, he would fight. He would protect her. Even just the thought felt good.

  “You done daydreaming?”

  “Do you have any idea how much we need in total?”

  Sophie blinked, then shrugged. “No. Aura probably knows.”

  But she would worry to death if she knew our plans.

  “I’d rather not tell mom about all of it,” David admitted.

  “Don’t worry. They’ll be tired, they won’t think too hard about a random question.” Sophie smiled.

  She was doing more of that lately. Smiling. Something about her changed, but David couldn’t quite place it.

  It would be rude to pry. So he didn’t.

  “You’re right. So, are we making dinner?” He asked.

  “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

  They had a plan now.

  And for the first time in a long time, David didn’t feel completely alone in it.

  -=-=-

  Bert stood near the smithy’s edge, wiping his hands on the same rag he’d used since morning.

  Aura was still at her post, sleeves rolled up, her regrowing hair covered with a cap, refining the last batch of the day.

  She never cut corners, even when working for greedy nobles.

  He didn’t interrupt. Not until she set the purified elements down, flexing her fingers with a quiet sigh. Only then did she look up and nod.

  They walked home in silence, side by side. Quiet comfort, born from exhaustion.

  When they climbed the stairs and opened the door, warmth hit him first.

  Then the smell.

  Spices. Broth. Something rich and savory and almost sweet beneath it. It wasn’t just food. It was home.

  Sophie looked up from the pot with a tiny smile. It felt good to see her back with the living.

  Marco stood nearby, setting bowls on the table. The boy—no, the young man—was changing by the day. Still short, still growing into his limbs, but his movements had filled out with strength. He’ll be a fine man one day.

  They all sat together. Bert picked up the spoon and tasted the broth.

  Spicy. A little heat that sank in slowly, followed by that savory fat he hadn’t even known he craved.

  It was simple, but it was good. Better than anything he expected to come home to.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  As they ate, Sophie asked Aura about citizenship. About their plans. He listened to the idle chatter as he drained his bowl. Then the next one.

  Good. So good.

  Once they stopped talking, Aura’s eyes grew vacant. Did she fall asleep sitting? He moved to help her to bed.

  He noticed Marco and Sophie nodding to one another, their faces determined. It was heartwarming to see them getting along. Especially if they were going to make such fine soup every day.

  If they could keep this… Just this. A warm meal and a safe family, it would be worth every blister, every aching joint.

  -=-=-=-

  The chamber was quiet, save for the scratch of a quill and the droning voice of the herald.

  “…and thus, House Kira of Minvariya petitions once more for shared responsibility in handling the displaced citizens of frontier villages,” the man read aloud, his voice echoing against polished marble.

  Purple flags bearing the Garonian crest hung behind him, swaying slightly in the breeze from the enchanted vents. A pricey, yet crucial investment.

  Lord Romuald Garonian, still far too patient for this nonsense, sat slumped in his high-backed chair, massaging his temple with two thick fingers.

  “I warned them, and now?” he muttered, not quite under his breath. “Morgan went all out on messing this one up.”

  The herald paused.

  Romuald waved a hand. “Skip the rest.”

  My reply shall be as polite as it is pointless.

  “House Garonian recognizes the challenges faced by our esteemed allies in House Kira. Alas, due to limited resources, we are unable to accommodate further refugee intake, indefinitely. May the Goddess grant you strength in these trying times. You got all that?”

  “Yes, my lord,” the herald said with a bow and made his exit.

  Romuald leaned back even further and sighed.

  His gaze swept across the room—tapestries, polished floors, a table of redwood carved into the shape of the surrounding mountain ranges. It had taken three years to commission and cost more than some villages made in a decade.

  He never looked at it without remembering that.

  The silence was broken again—this time by an older voice.

  “My lord,” said Edden, advisor and archmage of the academy, standing beside a rack of scrolls. “The Goddess’s rest… Have you made your choice?”

  “There wasn’t ever a choice. Do you question it?” Romuald rasped, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

  The mage didn’t flinch. “We can still offer limited sanctuary.”

  “No,” Romuald said flatly. “You’ve seen the reports. For every mouth we fed, the rebels grew stronger. I’m done saving snakes.”

  “Still, if we deny them now, during the long night… It will not be forgotten.” Edden stepped forward, his voice quiet but firm.

  “We’ve taken in more than anyone else ever did.” Romuald raised his voice for the first time. “If they can’t understand that, they’re free to found their own city.”

  Romuald narrowed his eyes and swept a hand over the stack of rebel case files.

  “We're already at the tipping point, Edden.” He stood slowly. His joints protested, but his voice didn’t waver. “And I do not gamble.”

  Edden looked down, defeated. “Your orders then, sir?”

  Romuald’s voice was hoarse, but steady. “Bar the gates. Deploy the bombardments as necessary to keep the monsters away.”

  The mage bowed. “As you command.” He turned to leave, but Romuald stopped him for a second longer.

  “You can assemble volunteer soldiers. They have permission to take the field.”

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  As the door closed behind him, Romuald remained still for a long moment. Then he looked out the arched window toward the walls.

  He could imagine the thousands camping in the trodden grass.

  “I’ll weep for them,” he muttered. “After it’s done.”

  -=-=-

  David woke up to a world bathed in melted honey, as the golden light of the eclipse seeped through every crevice.

  He sat up slowly. The room felt… heavier somehow. The air was thick and slow to breathe, like the whole world had stopped for a moment and was just waiting.

  Sophie was already up and organizing things.

  David sat up, rubbing his eyes. “It’s Goddess’s rest already?”

  She nodded, but didn’t pick up the conversation.

  He stood up and pulled the shutters open.

  Outside, people walked the narrow streets, talking, shopping, carrying crates. There was no panic, no urgency. Just… sadness and exhaustion. But that was normal life in the refugee district.

  “I thought people would be more worried.” David leaned on the windowsill, arms dangling over the ledge. “Feels wrong.”

  Sophie stretched her arms and stared at the ceiling. “Maybe this is how it’s supposed to be?.”

  He glanced to the side, where giant rock formations covered the horizon. “I guess with walls like that…” David muttered. “I wouldn’t care either.”

  They found some leftover soup and bread for breakfast. Aura and Bert were already gone.

  “So, about yesterday” Sophie started. “You got the number you wanted?”

  “Yeah. It’s crazy.” David replied under his breath. “Whoever decided the costs of citizenship did not want anyone to actually obtain it.”

  Sophie sighed. She looked dejected. And for good reason.

  The day before they got the information out of Aura.

  Five hundred silver coins. Per person.

  “I know we agreed to work together.” David said. He had to make sure her head was still in the game. “But it’s going to be at least half a year of constant risk and hard work.”

  “Does that change anything?” Sophie looked him straight in the eyes.

  She could get intense at most unexpected moments. “No.” David paused. “Not if we don’t want mom and dad to slowly suffocate.”

  “So what’s the plan?” Sophie asked. “We can’t go out today, obviously.”

  David pushed away the empty bowl of soup and stood up. “We could meet with Viera. Ask about the prices.”

  Sophie raised an eyebrow. “You’re so eager suddenly. Did she charm you?”

  David blinked. “What—?”

  “I wish you could see your face.” Sophie chuckled.

  Sophie made a joke? That same Sophie?

  “Oh hush it” He said, faking indignation. “We’re not going to get another free day. If the guards are distracted, maybe we can look around more freely. Scope the place out.”

  “Alright. But if you find trouble again, I’m pretending I don’t know you.”

  “Noted.”

  -=-=-

  By the time David and Sophie stepped outside, the world had already changed to deep crimson and long shadows stretched across the uneven stone roads.

  They didn’t rush. There was no need to. For once, no matter how they tried, there wasn’t much for them to do.

  The building they approached leaned slightly to one side, wood warped with age.

  Inside, the air was thick. Sweat, cheap ale. David grimaced, but Sophie walked in without so much as a glance.

  There were only three people inside: a broad-chested man washing the counter and two silver-haired girls sweeping lazily near the door. They looked like twins around David’s age.

  The moment the door creaked open, all eyes turned to them. For a second, everything stilled. Then the man gave a nod.

  “Whatcha need? It’s closed.” he said, voice like gravel. He wasn’t old, but weathered. Muscles too large for a barkeep, even in a place like this.

  David stepped forward, trying not to sound too timid. “We’re looking for Viera.”

  The man didn’t blink. “She ain’t in. Come back tomorrow.”

  There was an edge to his tone, but David had no idea where it came from.

  One of the two girls tilted her head, studying David with mild curiosity.

  David glanced at Sophie. She shrugged.

  “Sorry for taking your time.” David bowed, and turned back to the door.

  They stepped back into the fading light.

  “What now?” Sophie asked.

  David opened his mouth, but the sky answered first.

  A roaring crackle spread through the air. Being familiar with gunshot and similar, David grabbed Sophie’s arm and pulled them both to the ground.

  Sophie yelped but didn’t resist, eyes wide, dust clinging to her palms.

  A streak of fire tore overhead. A massive comet of light.

  It arced over the city walls, trailing smoke, and exploded with a thunderous boom that rattled their bones.

  A second fireball followed. Then a third.

  The clouds reflected the glow like burning silk.

  David crouched frozen as ground shook beneath them.

  “What…” Sophie tried to scream over the explosions. “What was that?”

  Artillery. David didn't answer her. She might be better off not knowing.