The hum beneath his palm faded.
Not stopped. Just softened. Like Ashwing had decided, for now, not to break anything.
His breath fogged in the cold room. The warmth from Ashwing wasn't enough. Not for the walls. Not for the quiet that followed.
He hadn't asked them to.
Because there was nothing left to say.
He sat with his back to the wall, one knee pulled up, the other stretched out. Ashwing curled beside him, tail looping over the warped boards. His breath rose in lazy clouds. Steam curled near the broken pack in the corner.
Outside, the wind was picking up again. Not enough to rattle anything. Just enough to remind him it was waiting.
He didn't fall asleep.
But the silence slipped sideways.
And that's when he heard it.
Muffled. Low. Down the hall.
The room wasn't sealed well, too many gaps in the wood, too many cracks from the fight. Sound traveled like it wanted to be found.
Ren's answer came slower. Blunter.
"Yeah. I mean—yeah. It's not safe out there. The roads. The monsters. You saw what happened. That Herald—whatever he was—he came for something. Or someone."
"I'm not a soldier, Ren. I'm ot like them. I'm ust—"
"No," Ren cut in. "You're not. But you followed anyway. Same as the rest of us."
"I didn't do anything."
"What if it's worse next time?"
Ren sighed. The sound carried through the wall like an ache.
Meren didn't respond to that.
Then. "I don't want to."
No sarcasm. No drama. Just truth.
Ren's voice was softer when it returned.
"None of us do. But that kid—"
"Yeah. Him. He's walking toward something."
"…You think he even knows what?"
"But I think it knows him."
Lindarion didn't move.
Didn't breathe for a second.
Ashwing shifted, pressing his head against Lindarion's side. Warm. Present. Unapologetic.
Outside, someone passed by the hall, boots scuffing old stone. A door creaked. Somewhere downstairs, a plate clattered.
The world kept turning.
Even if the people in it wanted to stop.
Lindarion opened his eyes.
Stared at the cracked ceiling.
He just let the thought sink in.
Like a stone into water.
And waited for it to hit bottom until night.
Lindarion waited until the hall went quiet.
The kind of quiet where footsteps would echo.
Boots already laced. Pack light. Ashwing alert without a sound.
No armor. No coat. Nothing that would drag or jingle.
He eased the door open.
Like he oiled it earlier..but he didn't.
Ashwing followed close, wings half-folded. His size had grown just enough to be awkward in tight spaces. But he moved like smoke.
They didn't use the stairs.
They used the window at the end of the hall.
Two stories down. A rain barrel below.
Ashwing jumped first. Landed with a thud that didn't echo.
Hit the barrel, rolled.
No grunt. No hesitation.
No lights were on in the village. The fires were out. The watch was light, half of them still grieving, the rest too tired to be alert.
He didn't go through the square.
He cut east. Past the old well. Past the collapsed storage shed with the burned roof. Toward the trees.
Ashwing stayed close, glancing up only once.
Lindarion didn't speak.
The forest line was ahead.
The path that led out.
Not marked. Not used.
But he remembered it.
Behind him, Hearthrun faded into dark shapes.
Halfway through the tree line, he felt her.
He didn't stop walking.
'Don't turn. Don't show it.'
Ashwing tensed behind him. Breath held. Claws flexed.
A whisper followed. Not from the trees. From behind his left shoulder.
"I thought you were smarter."
Lira stepped into view. Not from the shadows. From the open path. Like she'd been waiting the whole time.
"You picked a bad night to vanish," she said.
Lindarion exhaled once through his nose. Not a sigh.
"I didn't vanish," he said. "I'm just walking."
She raised an eyebrow.
The silence between them wasn't empty.
It was a knife on the table.
"He's not attacking."
Lindarion didn't answer.
Because she wasn't wrong.
Ashwing hadn't lowered his body. He was braced. Watching her fingers. Her stance.
Waiting for a twitch.
Lindarion turned halfway.
Enough to see her, not enough to offer weakness.
No emotion. Just confirmation.
"You're not ready," she said.
He stared at her. "You think I need more time?"
"No," she said. "I think you're going either way."
Then she stepped forward.
Lindarion touched his side. A signal. No spell.
Lira's gaze didn't shift.
"You waited until we were arep," she said. "That's smart."
"I didn't wait. I gave them time to sleep."
"To what? Forget you?"
He didn't say it loud.
"You're burning fast," she said. "You know that?"
He looked past her. Toward the trees. The night.
She watched him. He knew the kind of watching. Measuring. Mapping. Weighing risk.
"You planning to survive?"
"Where are you going?"
"That's worse than I thought."
"Stay or don't," he said. "But I'm going."
"I'll walk with you. Until you change your mind. Or someone kills us."
He just started walking again.
Just steps into the dark.