Night had fallen over the forest.
A lone wolf howled in the distance, its cry rising beneath a pale, watchful moon.
The trees stood tall and silent on either side of the road, their branches shivering in the wind like whispering sentries.
The new wagon rolled steadily beneath the silver light, pulled by two chestnut horses.
Mira sat near the front beside Leila, a blanket draped over her shoulders, her head tilted back against the wooden side rail as she watched the stars drift between the swaying branches overhead.
Behind them, Garron and Captain Alric lay side by side—still unconscious, but stable. The soft glow of Veylar’s seal had dimmed, but it remained—still holding.
At the back of the wagon, the three assassins lay bound, wrapped in thick vines like cocoons. They hadn’t stirred since.
The horses trotted briskly along the moonlit path, their hooves thudding against packed dirt and scattered leaves.
Kael was driving the wagon, reins loose in his hands, his tired eyes scanning the darkness.
Grey sat beside him, his blade sheathed but his fingers never far from the hilt.
Cassian and Rook took the lead, guiding the group along the safest route.
Lucien brought up the rear, riding in silence, one hand resting on his sword pommel as his gaze swept the trees.
They didn’t speak much.
Only the creak of the wagon, the clop of hooves, and the occasional rustle of nocturnal wind broke the silence.
“Still awake?” Leila asked softly, her voice almost lost in the breeze.
“Barely,” Mira murmured. “But I’ll stay up a bit longer. Just in case.”
Leila nodded, her eyes scanning the woods. “Let’s hope there are no more Crows on the road.”
“There are none,” Mira said, though she didn’t sound certain. “But I can feel something else… maybe a beast or two. They probably won’t attack. We outnumber them.”
A breeze rustled through the trees again—soft, almost mournful.
Mira kept her eyes on the road ahead, her thoughts drifting… until a quiet voice rose from behind.
“Don’t be too sure,” it said, rough and low. “We’re very good at hiding.”
Mira turned her head sharply.
One of the assassins had stirred.
His eyes were barely open, slitted against the moonlight, but a faint grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
His arms and legs were still tightly bound in Mira’s vines—he couldn’t move an inch. Yet he spoke with unsettling calm, as if he’d been listening the whole time.
Leila stiffened beside her. “You’re awake.”
The man chuckled softly. “I never really slept. Just waiting. Watching.”
Grey turned back toward the wagon. “Which one is it?”
“The spearman,” Leila said, her voice edged with fury.
Kael pulled his blade out. “If he tries anything, I’ll cut his tongue out.”
The assassin didn’t flinch. “Relax. I’m not stupid. I know what happens if I try.”
Leila narrowed her eyes. “Then why speak at all?”
“Because it’s not every day you get to talk to a Saintess,” he said, nodding toward Mira. “Isn’t that right? Saintess of the South?”
Mira’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not a Saintess.”
“No?” the man said with a faint laugh. “Then I must be misinformed.”
Lucien rode closer, his voice cold. “Don’t play games. Where are your friends hiding?”
The assassin gave a lazy shrug—or tried to. The vines tightened. He winced, then grinned again. “Wouldn’t be much of a secret if I told you, would it?”
Lucien’s eyes darkened. “You’re in no position to make jokes.”
“Oh yeah?” the assassin whispered. “What are you going to do about it? Kill me?”
Mira’s hands clenched the edge of the wagon. The vines pulsed faintly with her irritation.
Leila reached for Mira’s shoulder. “Don’t waste mana on him. He’s trying to get under your skin.”
Mira nodded, though her eyes never left the assassin’s face.
The man smirked as he took a long look at her. “Blonde hair, emerald eyes, young, powerful. Yeah... you’re her.”
Kael snorted. “Keep talking, and it’ll be your last.”
The man gave a tired laugh, then leaned his head back against the wagon board, eyes slipping shut once more.
But Mira knew better.
He was listening.
They all were.
And even bound like that—somehow, they still felt dangerous.
She drew the blanket tighter around her shoulders.
The road ahead remained quiet, but her mind no longer was…
Adventurer’s Guild—
Lana was just about to close the front door when she heard something—horses, coming fast.
She paused and stepped outside, looking down the road. The night was quiet, the moon shining bright in the sky. Then she saw them.
A wagon, pulled by two horses, with people riding alongside. And sitting at the front of the wagon, wrapped in a blanket, was someone she knew very well.
“Mira?” Lana said softly.
Her eyes widened. She spun back toward the guild and shouted, “Mira’s coming in fast—something’s wrong! Someone go get help!”
Inside, a few staff members jumped to their feet. One of the younger ones ran upstairs, yelling for assistance.
The wagon rolled to a stop in front of the guild.
Leila was the first to jump down. She helped Mira off the wagon while Kael and Grey dismounted.
Cassian and Rook followed close behind, and Lucien came last, riding in silence.
Lana walked closer—and saw more.
In the back of the wagon, Garron and Captain Alric were lying down. They weren’t awake, but they were still breathing. Three other people were tied up tightly in vines, completely still.
Lana gasped. “What happened…?”
“They need beds. Right away,” Mira said quickly. “We’ll explain everything later. And prepare some detoxification potions.”
Lana nodded. “Let’s bring them upstairs.”
Mira nodded but didn’t say anything else. She looked exhausted.
The group followed her into the building. They were covered in dirt, blood, and soot. Tired. Quiet.
As Lucien passed by, Lana saw the serious look in his eyes.
Something terrible had happened.
“Are you all right, Your Highness?” she asked.
Lucien paused mid-step. “I’m fine. Seal all doors and windows. I’ll explain later.”
Then he followed the group upstairs.
Lana nodded—then, with a loud bam, she closed the front door.
The infirmary was dim, lit only by a few oil lamps on the walls. The air smelled faintly of herbs, ash, and antiseptic.
Mira knelt beside one of the beds where Captain Alric lay, his skin pale, his breathing shallow.
His armor had already been removed, revealing the angry dark veins crawling out from beneath the seal Veylar had left on his chest.
Beside her, a small tray of potions clinked quietly as Lana set it down.
Leila stood nearby with a clean cloth, and several guild staff lingered in the corner, watching with anxious concern.
Mira picked up the small glass vial with both hands. The liquid inside shimmered greenish-blue—one of the stronger detoxification potions they kept for emergencies.
“This should help flush the poison,” she said quietly. “I’ll guide it with magic.”
Leila nodded. “Take your time.”
Mira uncorked the bottle and, with care, tipped a few drops between Alric’s lips. He didn’t stir—but moments later, a faint twitch passed through his fingers.
Good.
She placed her hands lightly on his chest, over the seal.
A soft green glow bloomed under her palms, warmer and steadier than before. The light seeped into his skin, guided by her will. She closed her eyes, focusing.
The blackened veins began to fade, slowly retreating beneath his collar and neck.
His breathing deepened. The flicker of pain across his brow eased.
The magic surged a little brighter.
“It’s working,” Leila whispered.
Mira didn’t speak—she pushed further, sending one more wave of healing through his body, this one more precise, more attuned than before.
Alric let out a soft breath, his eyelids fluttering like someone waking from a long nightmare.
Mira slowly pulled her hands back, her shoulders shaking from the effort.
Then Alric opened his eyes.
“...Mira?” he rasped. “I... I’m still alive?”
Mira let out a tired breath—half a laugh, half a sob. “Yes. Welcome back, Captain.”
Leila placed a steadying hand on her back, and Lana moved to check Alric’s pulse with a relieved look on her face.
“He’s going to be fine. The poison is fading,” Lana whispered.
Everyone let out a breath they hadn’t realized they were holding.
The tension that had gripped the room slowly melted, like frost beneath the morning sun.
Leila closed her eyes and smiled faintly, her hand still resting on Mira’s back.
Lana gave a small nod and stepped back, signaling to the staff that things were finally under control.
The others in the room relaxed—some sinking into chairs, others whispering quiet prayers of thanks.
Even Lucien, who had remained silent near the door, allowed his shoulders to ease.
Kael leaned against the wall with a tired groan. “Well... that's one problem fixed.”
Grey gave a grunt that might have been agreement. Rook just sat on a nearby bench and rubbed his eyes. Even Cassian cracked a rare smile.
Mira wiped her hands on a clean cloth and sat back with a heavy sigh. Her magic was spent. Her body ached. But for now, Alric was safe.
And that was enough.
For tonight, at least.
Leila pulled up a chair beside Mira. “You should rest now,” she said gently.
“I will,” Mira whispered.
She looked once more at Alric, now sleeping peacefully—the poison no longer creeping beneath his skin.
Then she turned to her father. She smiled, leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes…
And finally, allowed herself to rest.
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