Karev did not shift, breathe or blink.
His bow remained drawn, the arrow trained on the two Truthers as if the slightest movement would justify release. Darius froze with one hand still braced under Favian's arm. Favian, wounded and struggling to stay upright, narrowed his eyes, calculating and measuring distance, angle and reach, because one wrong move could get them killed.
For several heartbeats, no one dared to speak.
Finally, Karev's gaze slid away from them slowly toward the unconscious boy lying on the leaf-strewn ground. He observed the stillness of the child's body. His expression turned into concern and assessment.
Then he looked back at the Truthers, and with a calm voice he asked, "What did you do to the boy?"
Favian's answer was instant and laced with anger. "We should be the ones asking you that."
Karev's brow twitched faintly.
Favian pushed on, pain making his voice harsher. "We found him alone in the woods, charmed and controlled. And then a Rageler crawled out of the dark after him." Favian jabbed a finger toward the headless corpse. "One of yours, Karev."
Darius stood straighter beside him, fury burning just beneath his skin.
"You set a Rageler on Meredith's kin," he spat, "and hoped the beast would finish them, then finish us. A tidy way to rid yourself of problems, isn't it? Two Truthers gone, a grieving family, no witnesses."
For a moment, Karev did not move nor answer this accusations. His bow remained steady, but his eyes shifted. When he finally spoke, it was measured.
"I sent no Rageler." He replied.
He lowered the bow, but only slightly. Just enough to show restraint, not enough to show trust.
Then, to their surprise, he laughed. A low, amused sound, almost fond in its cruelty.
"Still… I must admire you," Karev said, giving them both a long, appraising look. "To walk into a town where every man would gladly see you dead. To sleep beneath their roofs. To greet their children. Either you are brave…" a smile ghosted across his lips "...or astonishingly foolish."
Blood dripped down Favian's fingers where he held his wound. He stared Karev down, unblinking.
"There is nowhere we can go," he replied, "where your kind will not eventually hunt us."
Karev tilted his head, as though the words were a curiosity rather than a warning.
Favian didn't stop.
"You call us Truthers as if it is venom. And yet it is the truth you fear most."
Karev's expression went still, utterly unreadable.
Then, slowly, his shoulders loosened and the bow string softened under his fingers. A long exhale left him.
"Meredith came to me tonight," he said at last. "She told me her cousin's son was missing. And that both of you…" he looked between the two Truthers "...chose to follow the rest of her family into the woods to search."
His tone was remarkably casual, as though he recounted a simple errand rather than just witnessing the beheading of a Rageler.
"I heard your voice… Kriger," he continued, eyes turning briefly toward Darius. "Shouting through the trees. So I tracked you here."
Favian and Darius exchanged a look, the lack of hostility amused them both.
Karev went on before they could speak.
"Dismiss your blade before Nathan or the others reach us," he commanded in civility. "Unless you'd like them to see the truth for themselves."
Then, without waiting for agreement, he turned his back to them and began to walk away.
Favian and Darius stared after him, stunned. There was no further attack, threat, or arrest. Just… departure. That alone felt terrifying.
Favian swallowed, then raised his voice, louder than he intended.
"You're not going to finish us?" he shouted after Karev. "Not going to drag us before your Order? Make us pay for the sins you believe we carry?"
Karev stopped mid-stride and slowly turned back toward them.
"If I wanted you dead, I would have taken the shot the moment I saw Kriger standing in the market beside Meredith." He said softly.
Favian's gaped and Darius stiffened.
Karev looked to Darius for only a heartbeat… then his gaze found Favian — and held.
"And you…" Karev said to Favian "You have been a terrible teacher, Eldrin."
The name landed like a hammer.
Favian's eyes widened and his heartbeat slammed into his ribs. Darius stared at his friend, realising in that moment that something was buried.
They stood there, shaken, staring at the trees where Karev vanished to. Darius tried to gather his breath, with leftover fear and fury.
He turned to Favian with narrowed eyes. "Why did he call you Eldrin?"
Favian didn't miss a beat, his voice was cold. "I've no idea what he's talking about."
He dismissed the concern with a scowl, though the tension in his face said otherwise.
Before Darius could press further, both men froze. Several voices echoed distantly through the trees.
"Oliver! Oliver!"
Nathan, Jeremy and Anthon, were drawing closer.
Favian's head snapped toward the noise. "We cannot let them see that corpse," he hissed, pointing toward the headless Rageler lying in the dark. Darius nodded quickly.
"Take the boy, now," Favian ordered.
Darius rushed to the unconscious lad, scooping him into his arms. Favian dismissed his blade and staggered after them, limping and clutching his bleeding chest. Trying to suppress every groan.
The torchlight in Favian's fist swung wildly as they hurried away from the scene of the kill.
They walked as fast as the darkness allowed. By the time Nathan and the others emerged through the trees, Favian and Darius were already standing clear of any evidence.
When Jeremy saw his youngest son slumped unconscious in Darius' hold, his torch nearly fell from his hand.
"Oliver! Gods above— Oliver!" He rushed over with a panic-fractured voice.
Anthon snatched his brother into his arms, holding him close like he might vanish again.
Nathan's wide eyes scanned Darius and Favian, then rested on the fresh wound across Favian's chest. "What happened?" he demanded in fear.
Favian inhaled sharply, steadying himself before he spoke. His voice was rough, but he made it sound believable.
"A Rageler," he said. "Came out of the dark. We chased it off with flame and it fled back into the woods. The beast... got one swipe in before it ran." He gestured toward his own gash.
Jeremy muttered a curse under his breath, hugging Oliver tightly. "A Rageler… here? We must leave. Now."
No one argued.
Together, they hurried back the way they came. Anthon and Jeremy trembling with worry, Nathan gripping his torch like a weapon, Favian biting down pain and Darius silent in guilt.
Behind them, in the silence of the tree, a headless corpse of scaled flesh lay hidden among the roots.
Before they reached the village proper, the road split, one path bending toward Nathan's compound, the other weaving into the lower streets. Anthon slowed and shifted Oliver carefully in his arms. The boy still had not stirred.
"I'll take him home," Anthon murmured. His father stepped to his side, placing a hand on the boy's back. They did not speak another word. Father and son turned away, vanishing down the road with Oliver.
The rest of the group continued towards Nathan's compound. As they approached, the adrenaline that had carried Favian thus far had begun to slip away. His steps shortened with hard breaths. Darius kept close, matching his pace, uneasy eyes turning to Favian's blood-drenched chest with every stagger.
When they reached the compound door, Nathan struck it twice with the flat of his palm and the door jerked open.
Meredith was first to appear with her hair unbound and eyes wide with fear. Her mother followed close behind, hands still damp with soap from whatever chores the night had dragged her into. Their gazes fell instantly on Favian.
They both gasped with hands over their mouths.
"Favian!" Meredith breathed.
But he hardly heard her. His knees buckled and his vision tunneled. Darius lunged forward, catching him beneath the shoulders just before he struck the ground. Favian's head fell against Darius' chest, breath wheezing shallow and weak.
"He's losing too much blood," Nathan snapped. "Darius, help me get him inside. Now!"
They carried him with a stagger through the doorway and into the house. The women hurried after them. Nathan led the way to the spare room; a small space with reed mats, an old carved chest, and a narrow bed barely wide enough for a grown man.
They laid Favian down.
His breath hitched and his eyelids began to flutter. The wound across his chest, hidden under hastily wrapped fabric, seeped fresh crimson into the cloth. Darius stood with his hands still shaking from everything he had seen and even those he could not speak of.
Nathan's voice echoed like a command meant for soldiers.
"Meredith, get clean cloths. Boiling water. Bandages. Anything you can."
"And herbs," he added sharply, turning to her mother. "Something to numb pain and slow bleeding. Hurry."
The two women rushed out of the room; Darius stood at his bedside, hands curled into fists, feeling utterly helpless. And for a moment he wondered what had happened to his own wound and why they had suddenly vanished.
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