Merrick appeared at the entrance of the wooden walkway, his robe slightly damp from the cavern's misty air. He waved them over, his usual carefree demeanor subdued. Beside him, Selka—the young Valkari girl who had brought them here—stood quietly, clutching the edges of her basket as if trying to disappear.
"Come on," Merrick said. "We're meeting the chief."
Char and Mira exchanged a glance.
Mira, having only just recovered from her earlier moment of vulnerability, straightened up, masking her emotions behind her usual casual smirk. "Guess we're about to find out if we're guests or prisoners," she muttered under her breath.
Char didn't respond. He was still thinking about the Valkari, about everything he had written about them in his old life. They were supposed to be mysterious, reclusive—dangerous. And yet, here they were, being led through the heart of their hidden settlement.
As they followed Merrick and Selka deeper into the cavern, the air grew cooler. The settlement's homes, carved into the rocky walls, flickered with soft blue lantern light. Valkari men and women watched them from doorways and above walkways, their glowing yellow eyes like embers in the dimness. It was eerie.
Finally, they reached a massive wooden structure nestled into the rock. Its entrance was flanked by two carved wolf statues, their snarling jaws illuminated by torches.
Merrick stepped aside, gesturing. "Inside."
Char took a steadying breath and stepped forward, pushing open the heavy wooden doors.
The chamber inside was surprisingly warm. A large fire crackled in a stone hearth, illuminating a spacious room with high ceilings and reinforced wooden beams. Animal pelts and banners of deep blue and silver hung from the walls, depicting old Valkari symbols—wolves, mountains, and the crescent moon.
And sitting at the far end of the room was the leader of the Valkari.
Rhun Wolfsbane.
The moment Char saw him, recognition struck him like a hammer.
This was a man he had written about.
The elderly Valkari sat in a large wooden chair, one leg crossed over the other, his hands resting on the carved armrests. His once-blue skin had faded with age, but his eyes burned with intelligence. His white hair was tied back, revealing deep scars along his jaw and neck. He wore a thick fur cloak over a set of hardened leather armor, the attire of a warrior rather than a ruler.
And standing beside him were two others.
One was a tall, broad-shouldered man with the same colourless hair and piercing golden eyes. His expression was unreadable, but his presence alone carried authority.
Lucien Wolfsbane. Rhun's son.
The other was a woman, lean and sharp-eyed, clad in a sleeveless tunic and wrapped leather bracers. A curved blade rested at her hip, and she regarded the newcomers with open suspicion.
Ferme, the Valkari general.
Three of the most important figures in Valkari history stood before Char, and he had to fight to keep his expression neutral.
Rhun Wolfsbane tilted his head, studying them.
"So," he said, his voice deep and measured. "These are the travelers who stumbled upon our land."
Mira shifted slightly, keeping her hands close to her belt where her dagger rested. Merrick was visibly tense, clearly aware of how important this moment was.
Char, forcing himself to remain composed, took a step forward and nodded.
"We didn't mean to intrude," he said, his voice steady. "We were guided here by one of your own. We're just seeking shelter."
Rhun's gaze flicked to Selka, who immediately lowered her head.
Lucien crossed his arms. "And yet, you didn't come empty-handed." His golden eyes landed on Char, scanning him with quiet intensity. "You carry weapons. You carry knowledge. You carry purpose."
Char swallowed.
Ferme exhaled through her nose, unimpressed. "Spare us the pleasantries. Who are you, and why are you really here?"
The tension in the room thickened.
Char knew this was the moment. The moment that would determine everything
Char took a steady breath. "We came from a place called Hallow's Rest. A town to the south, nestled near the lowlands."
Rhun's expression didn't change, but Lucien's eyes narrowed slightly. Ferme merely leaned against the wooden table beside the fire, watching.
"It was supposed to be a stop on our journey, but things… escalated." Char kept his voice level, trying to choose his words carefully. "The town's administrator, Flint, was keeping secrets. Dangerous ones. A teleportation ritual circle, something old and forgotten, hidden beneath the town. He hoarded it for himself, controlling the flow of travelers for profit. We found out, and he didn't take kindly to it."
Lucien scoffed. "So, you stole his secret and fled?"
Char tensed. "We weren't thieves. We were trying to escape. Flint and his people tried to stop us. We fought back. We lost someone." His voice wavered slightly at the last part. "And we ended up here."
Rhun's piercing gaze lingered on him for a moment, as if weighing the truth of his words.
"And why were you traveling in the first place?" the old chief asked.
Char hesitated. He had already decided not to mention the Ascension Stones—not yet. He didn't want to give away his true goal, especially when he wasn't sure how the Valkari would react.
"We're looking for a place to regroup. To recover," he said instead.
Ferme let out a short breath, clearly unimpressed with the answer. Lucien, on the other hand, was still watching him like a wolf eyeing prey.
"I don't trust them," Lucien muttered, turning to his father. "They bring trouble. If they were running from a fight, they might have led others here."
Merrick, who had been quiet until now, spoke up. "We weren't followed," he said, his usual theatrics subdued. "Trust me, I would know."
Lucien's glare flicked to him. "And you are?"
"Merrick, magician extraordinaire. Happy to be of service." He gave a half-hearted flourish, though it lacked his usual enthusiasm.
Lucien didn't look amused.
Rhun, however, hummed thoughtfully. "You've come far," he finally said, his gaze moving between the three travelers. "And you've lost much." His voice softened, just a fraction. "You may stay."
Char exhaled.
"But don't mistake my kindness for trust," Rhun added, his tone sharpening again. "You will not roam freely. You will not bring your conflicts to our people. If you do, you will regret it."
Ferme nodded. "We have no use for outsiders who bring problems."
Lucien's scowl deepened, but he didn't argue further.
Char bowed his head slightly. "Thank you. We won't cause trouble."
Rhun gestured to Selka. "She will guide you to a place where you can stay. Do not test my patience."
That was their cue to leave. Selka, small and silent as ever, beckoned them forward. Char, Mira, and Merrick turned and followed her out of the chief's quarters.
*
The place they were given was, to put it lightly, cramped.
It was a small wooden shack built against the rocky wall of the cavern, more of a storage shed than a proper home. Inside, there was just enough space for a small table, a few shelves, and three beds.
Well.
Two beds.
Merrick immediately claimed the first, throwing himself onto the mattress with a dramatic groan. "Finally, somewhere soft," he mumbled, burying his face into the blankets. "I'm not moving from here."
The second bed—a small mattress in the corner—belonged to Selka. She sat on it quietly, placing her basket down as if this were the most normal situation in the world.
Which left… one.
Char and Mira both froze.
The last bed was a single, narrow cot.
Char felt his face heat up. He hadn't thought about this.
Mira, beside him, tensed as well, her usual confidence faltering for a split second. "Uh," she said, glancing at the cot, then at Char. Then at the cot again.
Char swallowed.
Merrick, oblivious to their awkwardness, waved a lazy hand. "You two figure it out," he mumbled.
Selka, still sitting on her own little mattress, blinked at them with her bright yellow eyes. "You can share," she said simply, her accent heavy as she spoke the human tongue. So she could speak it; she was probably just afraid the first time.
Char almost choked.
Mira made a strangled sound.
Merrick, finally catching on, snorted. "Oh, this is rich." He propped himself up on one elbow, grinning. "You two have been dancing around each other all day, and now you get to share a bed? What a romantic turn of events."
Mira turned red. "Shut up, Merrick."
Char cleared his throat, forcing himself to act normal. "We can just take turns. One of us can sleep on the floor."
Mira crossed her arms. "No way. I've slept on worse. You can take it."
"You sure?"
"Yes," she said way too quickly.
Char decided not to argue. He wasn't even sure if he'd be able to sleep tonight anyway. Not after everything. Not after Benjamin.
He sat down on the cot, trying to ignore the heat still lingering in his face. Mira, meanwhile, grabbed one of the blankets and curled up against the wall near the cot, her back to him.
Merrick, clearly enjoying their suffering, let out a dramatic sigh. "Ah, young love."
"Go to sleep, Merrick," Mira muttered.
Char exhaled, rubbing his face. This was going to be a long night