Morgana said, "And my father, too.

That same fire, that same unshakeable conviction. And I realized something."

"What?"

"That maybe he wasn't a fool after all. Maybe there are some things worth sacrificing everything for." She paused, and her smile became more genuine.

"I didn't expect you to do that tonight. You controlled yourself and went along with my wishes. And you threw all of that away the moment someone insulted me."

"They called names, to my grandfather and my father," Jaenor said flatly.

"What did they expect would happen?"

"Most people would have swallowed their anger and moved on. Protected themselves rather than defending someone else's honor."

She shook her head.

"But you're an Arkwright. And Arkwrights, for all their flaws, have always been stupidly loyal to those they care about."

Jaenor felt something shift in his chest.

In all the time he'd known Morgana, she'd been stern, demanding, occasionally amused, but never vulnerable like this.

Never openly emotional.

"I'm proud of you," she said quietly.

"Furious at your recklessness, terrified of what enemies you've made, but proud nonetheless. Your father would be too."

"Our whole family would be."

For a moment, Jaenor didn't know what to say.

Then he managed, "So you're not going to try to stop me from going after Caelum?"

"Oh, I'm absolutely going with you. Do you think I'd let you ride into unknown territory alone? You'd probably get lost and end up in a different kingdom entirely."

The moment of vulnerability passed, and Morgana's usual commanding tone returned.

"We'll leave once I'm ready. And that brat Caelum has a head start, but he's also a coward. He'll stop frequently, take the safest routes, and probably spend half his time whining about his misfortune. We can catch him."

"And then?"

"And then we have a conversation about the consequences of insulting people who matter to me." Her smile was cold now, predatory.

"I may not punch people in ballrooms, but I have my own ways of dealing with problems."

Jaenor found himself smiling back. "I'm starting to see the family resemblance."

"Flattery won't save you from the lecture you're going to get on the road about proper conduct and political ramifications," Morgana said, but there was warmth in her voice.

Then they both started moving towards the back of the castle.

***

The Verdant Emera Reaches at night were beautiful and terrifying in equal measure.

Thick old trees rose like towering pillars, their canopy so thick that even moonlight struggled to penetrate. The forest floor was a maze of roots and undergrowth, treacherous for anyone unfamiliar with its paths. Strange sounds echoed through the darkness—the calls of night birds, the rustle of unseen creatures, and occasionally, something that sounded almost human but definitely wasn't.

Rena stumbled through this nightmare landscape, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her body screaming with exhaustion and pain. Blood from dozens of scratches had dried on her arms and legs, mixing with dirt and torn fabric. Her once-fine dress was reduced to rags, barely decent, hanging in strips from her frame.

But she kept moving.

Because stopping meant thinking about Baren, about the sounds of battle she'd left behind, about whether he was still alive or if those monstrous wolves had torn him apart while she ran like a coward.

A root caught her foot, and she went down hard, the impact driving the air from her lungs.

For a moment, she just lay there, face pressed against moss and dead leaves, too exhausted to care anymore.

Get up! She told herself.

Get up, get up, get up!

But her body refused to obey.

Voices filtered through her awareness.

Multiple voices, speaking low and urgent. Footsteps approached, careful and measured. Someone was coming.

Rena tried to gather power for one last desperate attack, but her origin energy was depleted, her reserves drained to nothing. She was helpless.

"Over here!" a male voice called. Young, urgent.

"Gods, I think someone's hurt!"

More footsteps, faster now. Hands touched her shoulders, gentle but firm, rolling her onto her back. Rena's eyes fluttered open to see three figures standing over her, silhouetted against the faint moonlight filtering through the canopy.

"Rena?" The voice was shocked, disbelieving.

"Rena, is that you?"

She knew that voice. Relief flooded through her so powerfully that tears started flowing.

"Taeryn," she managed through cracked lips.

The young spearman dropped to his knees beside her, his face twisted with concern. "What happened? Where's Baren? What happened to you—"

"Taeryn, let her breathe."

Another figure knelt on her other side, and Rena felt the distinctive pulse of healing energy wash over her.

Raelana's face came into focus, her green-brown eyes sharp with concern and focus. "She's in bad shape. Multiple contusions, severe exhaustion, and possible internal injuries from Origin backlash."

"I'm... fine," Rena protested weakly, even as Raelana's magic began knitting the worst of her wounds.

"You're very much not fine," Raelana said firmly.

"Stay still and let me work."

The third figure crouched nearby, one hand on his sword hilt, eyes scanning the forest for threats. Darian's weathered face was grim in the moonlight.

"Who did this to you?"

"Blaedred Sect," Rena managed.

"They took us to a small town in the middle of the forest. Hilda... the Blaedred Skull... they wanted..."

She coughed, and pain lanced through her chest.

"You have to help him; you have to help Baren."

"Baren's still there. He stayed behind so I could escape. There were wolves, huge black wolves, and he transformed, and—"

"Slow down," Raelana interrupted, her hands glowing with green light as she worked on Rena's ribs.

"Start from the beginning. Who took you? Why?"

So Rena told them.

The words came haltingly at first, then in a rush as if a dam had broken. She told them about Elizabeth and Katerina's betrayal, about waking in some warehouse and about Hilda and her crimson robes marked with the skull. She told them about their deal, their desperate escape and the pursuit through the forest.

When she described Baren's transformation, his desperate last stand against the wolves, her voice broke.

"He made me leave him," she whispered, tears streaming down her face.

"He ordered me to run, and I just... I left him there. He could be dead right now because I was a coward."

"You're not a coward," Taeryn said fiercely, gripping her hand.

"You did what he asked. You survived so you could get help. That's not cowardice; that's trust."

"But—"

"He's right," Darian said, his voice carrying the authority of experience.

"A half-dragon in full battle rage can survive things that would kill a dozen normal men. Baren bought you time to escape and summon reinforcements. That was tactical thinking, not sacrifice." He paused.

"Though we need to move quickly. If the Blaedred Skull has him, they won't waste time transporting him somewhere more secure."

Raelana's healing energy pulsed one final time, then faded.

Rena felt significantly better—the worst of her injuries mended, her exhaustion eased, though she was far from fully recovered.

"That's all I can do right now without depleting myself completely," Raelana said, sitting back on her heels.

"You'll need proper rest and food to finish healing, but you can at least walk now."

"I can do more than walk," Rena insisted, struggling to sit up.

"We need to go back. We need to help Baren."

"We will," Darian promised.

"But not tonight. You're in no condition for another fight, and we don't know the enemy's strength or position. And the matter had surpassed our rank. The sect involvement and those two sisters betrayal, its deeper than we think. But we won't stop our pursuit of Baren. We will leave once you are healed."

Rena wanted to argue and wanted to demand they leave immediately, but she knew he was right. In her current state, she'd be a liability in any fight. And if they were going to rescue Baren from the Blaedred Skull, they needed to be smart about it.

"Dawn," she agreed reluctantly.

"But the moment there's enough light to see by, we move."

"Dawn," Darian confirmed.

They helped her to her feet, Taeryn supporting most of her weight, and began making their way through the forest to wherever they'd made camp.

As they walked, Rena found herself looking back over her shoulder, toward where she'd left Baren.

Hold on, she thought desperately.

Just hold on a little longer. We're coming for you.

In the distance, so faint she might have imagined it, a dragon's roar echoed through the night.

And despite everything, despite her exhaustion and fear and guilt, Rena smiled.

He was still alive.

They still had time.

-

Dawn broke over the Verdant Emera Reaches with a pale, grey light that barely penetrated the forest canopy.

Darian had been awake for over an hour, pacing the perimeter of their small camp, his mind working through tactical scenarios. Raelana sat cross-legged near the dying fire, her eyes closed in meditation, gathering her strength for whatever lay ahead. Taeryn was checking his spear for the third time, nervous energy radiating from every movement.

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