The company left the clearing in a strained, uneasy silence.
The forest seemed eager to swallow the ruins behind them, branches shifting back into place as soon as the last rider passed. The air grew warmer, but the chill of what they had witnessed clung to them like frost.
No one spoke.
Not Vinrah, who usually barked orders without hesitation.
Not the riders, who kept glancing over their shoulders as if expecting the blue fire to flare again.
Not Ellina, who rode near the front with her hood drawn low, her posture tight with unspoken questions.
Siegfried followed at the rear.
His horse moved quietly beneath him, hooves sinking into the soft earth. Every few steps, the animal flicked an ear back toward him, sensing the tension in his body. He kept his gaze on the path, avoiding the eyes of the others whenever they dared to look back.
They did not speak to him.
They did not ride near him.
They did not know what to make of him.
He could feel their unease like a weight pressing against his spine.
The blue fire had faded from his skin, but the memory of it lingered in their minds. They had seen something impossible, something none of them had been prepared for. And Siegfried had no words to offer them. No explanations. No reassurances.
He had spent years hiding this part of himself.
Now it walked behind them in plain sight.
A rider near the middle of the line whispered to another, too quietly for words to carry, but Siegfried did not need to hear them. He knew the tone. He had heard it before. Fear mixed with awe. Curiosity tangled with dread.
Vinrah kept glancing back, jaw tight, as if trying to decide whether to confront him or leave him be. Each time, she turned away before their eyes could meet.
Ellina did not look back at all.
The path narrowed as they moved deeper into the forest, the trees closing in overhead. Sunlight filtered through the branches in thin, wavering beams, casting shifting patterns across the trail. Birds that had been silent during the encounter began to call again, but their songs sounded distant, cautious.
Siegfried let the distance grow between himself and the others.
He preferred it that way.
For now.
The weight of what had happened pressed against him, heavy and familiar. The fire had answered him too quickly, too easily. It always did when fear and anger twisted together. He had hoped he would never need to call on it again.
But the ruins had forced his hand.
And now the company knew he was not what he seemed.
Ahead, Vinrah finally spoke, her voice low but carrying through the trees. "We make camp before nightfall. No one wanders. No one separates."
Her tone was steady, but Siegfried heard the edge beneath it.
They were not only afraid of what lurked in the forest.
They were afraid of what walked behind them.
He tightened his grip on the reins and kept riding, the distance between him and the others stretching like a shadow.
The road ahead felt long.
And the silence felt even longer.
By the time the sun dipped behind the treeline, the company had traveled far enough from the ruins for the forest to feel alive again. Birds called from the branches. Wind stirred the leaves. The world seemed to breathe normally.
The people did not.
Vinrah raised a hand, signaling a halt. "We camp here. One night. Then we push through the pass at dawn."
Her voice was steady, but the edge beneath it had not softened since the ruins.
The riders dismounted quickly, grateful for the chance to rest, yet every movement felt stiff, cautious. They spoke in low murmurs among themselves, but none of them approached Siegfried. None of them even looked in his direction for long.
He remained at the back, sliding off his horse with slow, deliberate motions. The animal nudged his shoulder, sensing the tension in him, but he only stroked its neck once before stepping away.
The others formed their usual clusters around the clearing, unpacking gear, gathering firewood, checking weapons. But the space around Siegfried stayed empty, as if an invisible boundary had formed around him.
Ellina kept her distance too.
Not out of fear.
Not out of distrust.
But because she did not know what to say.
She watched him from across the clearing, her expression unreadable beneath the fading light. Once, she took a step toward him, then stopped, her hand curling at her side before she turned away.
Siegfried pretended not to notice.
He knelt near the edge of the camp, away from the fire pit the others were building, and began unstrapping his gauntlets. His hands were steady now, but he could still feel the echo of the blue fire beneath his skin, like a heartbeat that did not belong to him.
He flexed his fingers once.
The air around them shimmered faintly.
He closed his fist until the sensation faded.
Behind him, the riders whispered.
"Did you see it?"
"It came from his hand."
"No one should be able to do that. That's not normal fire magic. Something has to be wrong."
"Do we trust him?"
He heard every word.
He answered none of them.
Vinrah moved through the camp, checking on each rider, offering quiet instructions. When she reached Siegfried's side of the clearing, she slowed, hesitated, then continued past him without a word.
The silence between them said enough.
As the fire finally crackled to life, casting warm light across the clearing, Siegfried remained in the shadows at the edge, separate from the circle of flickering orange.
The night would be long.
The road ahead even longer.
The fire had burned down to a low, steady glow by the time Vinrah called for the night watch rotation. The riders shifted uneasily, glancing toward the shadows where Siegfried sat alone.
Before Vinrah could speak another word, Siegfried rose to his feet.
"I will take the watch," he said.
Vinrah blinked, caught off guard. "For the first shift?"
"For the night."
A ripple of discomfort passed through the camp. A few riders exchanged looks. One opened his mouth as if to object, then thought better of it.
Vinrah studied him for a long moment. Her jaw tightened, but she nodded. "Very well. Wake us if anything stirs."
"I will."
He returned to the edge of the clearing, settling on a fallen log just beyond the reach of the firelight. The darkness welcomed him, wrapping around him like an old cloak. He felt it better that way. It kept the others comfortable and kept him distant.
One by one, the riders drifted to their bedrolls.
One by one, their whispers faded.
One by one, the forest swallowed their breathing into the rhythm of the night.
Soon the only sounds were the crackle of the fire and the soft rustle of leaves overhead.
Siegfried sat motionless, eyes fixed on the treeline. The weight of the day pressed against him, heavy and familiar. The blue fire still lingered beneath his skin, a quiet pulse he could not fully silence.
He did not look toward the sleeping forms behind him.
He did not want to see their fear.
Time passed.
Minutes.
Hours.
The moon climbed higher.
And then he heard it.
Soft footsteps.
Light.
Careful.
Not a threat.
Ellina.
She approached from behind, her cloak drawn tight around her shoulders. She stopped a few paces away, as if unsure whether she was welcome.
"You should be resting," Siegfried said quietly, without turning.
"I could not sleep."
He finally looked at her.
She stood in the faint glow of the dying fire, her expression unreadable, her eyes searching his face for something he did not know how to give.
She hesitated, then stepped closer. "May I sit with you?"
He considered refusing.
He considered telling her to stay with the others.
He considered the distance he had tried so hard to keep.
But he only nodded.
Ellina lowered herself onto the log beside him, leaving a respectful space between them. The night air was cool, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
She watched the treeline with him, her hands folded in her lap.
Finally, she said, "You did not have to take the whole watch."
"I did."
"Because of what happened?"
He did not answer.
Ellina's voice softened. "Siegfried… no one knows what to think. They are frightened. Confused. But they are not your enemies."
He kept his gaze forward. "Fear makes people unpredictable."
"And you?" she asked gently. "What does it make you?"
He exhaled slowly, the breath leaving him like a weight. "Careful."
Ellina studied him in the moonlight, her expression shifting with something he could not name. Not fear. Not pity. Something quieter. Something steadier.
"You do not have to be alone in this," she said.
He did not look at her.
He did not trust himself.
The forest rustled softly around them, the night deepening.
For the first time since the ruins, Siegfried felt the tension in his chest ease, if only slightly.
Ellina stayed beside him, silent and steady, as the moon traced its slow arc across the sky.
And the night watch continued.
Ellina sat beside him in silence for a long while, her cloak gathered around her knees, her breath soft in the cool night air. The fire behind them crackled faintly, its glow barely reaching the edge of the clearing where they kept watch.
Siegfried kept his eyes on the treeline, but he could feel her presence like a warm thread tugging at the cold edges of his thoughts.
Eventually, Ellina spoke, her voice low so as not to disturb the sleeping camp. "You scared them today."
He did not flinch. "I know."
"You scared me too."
That made him look at her.
Not sharply.
Not defensively.
Just… surprised.
Ellina met his gaze without flinching. "Not because of what you did. But because you did it alone."
He turned away again, jaw tightening. "It is better that way."
"For who?" she asked softly.
He did not answer.
The forest whispered around them, leaves shifting in the faint breeze. Ellina watched him for a moment, studying the tension in his shoulders, the way he held himself as if bracing for a blow that never came.
"You carry something heavy," she said. "I do not need to know what it is. But I can see the weight of it."
Siegfried's fingers curled slightly against his knee. "It is not something I can share."
"Because you do not trust us?"
He shook his head. "Because it is not safe."
Ellina considered that, her expression softening. "For us? Or for you?"
He hesitated.
That alone was an answer.
Ellina shifted closer, not enough to touch him, but enough that he could feel the warmth of her presence. "You protected me today. Whatever that cost you… I am grateful."
Siegfried's breath caught, just slightly. "You do not need to thank me."
"I do," she said. "Because you did not hesitate. And because you looked afraid afterward."
He stiffened. "I was not afraid."
"You were," she said gently. "Not of the creature. Of yourself."
He closed his eyes for a moment, the truth of it settling like a stone in his chest.
Ellina's voice softened even further. "You do not have to sit in the dark alone."
Siegfried opened his eyes again, staring into the trees. "I am used to it."
"I know," she said. "That is what worries me."
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, quietly, as if the words slipped out before he could stop them, Siegfried said, "I did not want them to see."
Ellina turned toward him. "See what?"
He swallowed once, the movement tight. "What I am."
Ellina's expression softened, her voice barely above a whisper. "I only saw someone trying to protect us."
Siegfried looked at her then, really looked, as if searching for any hint of fear in her eyes.
He found none.
The tension in his shoulders eased, just slightly. Enough for her to notice.
Siegfried kept his gaze on the treeline, but his breath had changed. Slower. Heavier. As if something inside him was shifting.
Ellina spoke first, her voice barely above a whisper. "You do not have to tell me anything. But… if you want to, I am here."
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then, quietly, as if the words were pulled from somewhere deep and long sealed, Siegfried said, "I was eight."
Ellina turned toward him, but she did not interrupt.
Siegfried's hands tightened slightly on his knees. "There was an attack. My home… my family… everything I knew." He paused, searching for breath. "I survived. They did not."
Ellina's expression softened, her eyes reflecting the faint moonlight. "Siegfried…"
He shook his head once, not to silence her, but to steady himself. "I remember the cold. The silence. And the fire I willed it to envelope everything out of sadness... out of rage." His voice dropped lower. "Seeing them like that. I did not understand it. I still do not."
Ellina's brow furrowed gently. "You were a child."
"That did not matter," he said. "The fire answered anyway."
He did not describe the throne room.
He did not describe the bodies.
He did not describe the scream that tore out of him or the ruin that followed.
But Ellina felt the weight of it in every word he spoke.
She shifted closer, her voice soft and steady. "You should not have had to face that alone."
"I did," he said. "And I learned to keep it that way."
Ellina hesitated, then reached out, her hand brushing lightly against his forearm. Not gripping. Not claiming. Just offering warmth in the cold.
"You are not that child anymore," she said. "And you are not alone." she lightly grabbed his face and turned it to face hers. She kissed him gently on the lips.
Siegfried's breath caught, the faintest tremor running through him. He did not pull away.
For the first time in years, he let someone sit beside him in the dark without building a wall between them.
The forest whispered around them.
The fire crackled softly behind them.