The road out of Black Hollow narrowed before it widened.
Lysara took it at a steady pace, boots finding familiar breaks in stone and root without thought. The fog thinned as she climbed, loosening its grip on the trees until the forest breathed normally again. Light filtered through the canopy in clean bands, no longer muted or wrong.
The folio sat heavy in her satchel.
Thicker than it looked. Old leather, reinforced at the spine, edges softened by handling rather than age. Valos had pressed it into her hands without ceremony.
Keep it. Read it. Show it if you want or need to.
It’s yours to do with as you deem.
She hadn’t opened it.
Not yet.
Kayden walked a half step behind her — close enough to anchor, far enough to give space. Somewhere along the road back, their dynamic had settled into something familiar. Protective, yes — but uncomplicated.
They did not speak of Tessa.
Three weeks was long enough for thoughts to cool without resolving. Long enough to know what pressed at the edges without naming it.
The return trip was quieter than the way there. They moved together as if they’d been traveling this road for years.
A day out from the gate, Kayden slowed.
“Blood.”
Not fresh-spilled — dried at the edges, sharp and metallic in the air. Fear had burned off already, leaving iron and sweat. Beneath it, something wrong. Sour. Uneven.
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“Corrupted human.”
The farther they walked, the stronger it became, until they found the scout. He lay slumped against a fallen log, unconscious, one sleeve torn and dark with blood.
Lysara knelt without hesitation, fingers steady as she assessed the damage. The cut on his arm was shallow but ragged, the edges discolored. There was a lump at the back of his head as well.
She worked quickly.
Cleaned. Bound. Stabilized.
Boots crunched on stone.
She looked up.
Xyrion stood at the edge of the path.
His pupils widened a fraction before settling. His gaze shifted to Lysara, then back to Kayden. Xyrion held his eyes for a moment longer, then nodded once.
And stayed.
“We were ambushed,” Xyrion said. “I tried to capture the corrupted, but he moved too fast. I didn’t want to leave Jace alone.”
“I’ll do a perimeter sweep,” Kayden said.
“Appreciated.”
Xyrion moved closer.
Lysara focused on her satchel, sorting vials until she found the correct one.
“Are you hurt anywhere?” she asked.
“No.”
He crouched beside her.
“How is he?”
“The cut on the arm isn’t deep,” she said. “The head injury needs a healer.”
“Hm.”
He stayed beside her, watching her work without comment until she finished wrapping the scout’s head.
“If you’re planning on keeping this hidden,” he said, breaking her concentration, “you might want to cover up before Jace wakes.”
She stilled.
Only then did she notice—his fingers were lightly caught in her hair.
Heat flickered behind her eyes. A faint tension pulled across her skin. She reached for her satchel and froze.
The vial was still there.
Untouched.
Her breath left her in a quiet huff of disbelief.
“Right.”
She pulled the hood up, fingers brushing her cheek as the fabric fell into place. The world dulled slightly as the concealment settled.
When she looked up again, Xyrion was already turning away — but not before she caught the last look, sharper now. Guarded.
Footsteps.
“They’re gone. Should I track?”
“Don’t. Better to have Jace checked.”
They moved on once the scout was secured, the road widening as the trees thinned. The gates were still hours away when the memory surfaced — uninvited.
Lysara went still.
“He figured it out a while back,” Kayden spoke as he could read her mind.
“Since you’re choosing to stay hidden, I won’t bring it up,” Xyrion said mildly.
She nodded once. “Thank you.”
Lysara walked on, fully aware now of how visible she was.

