The journey stretched on, days blending into one another as they trekked deeper into the wilderness. Kaelen, Sigrid, and Nessa moved in a practiced silence, the quiet only broken by the occasional rustling of leaves or the distant cry of birds. The land around them was desolate—forests gave way to barren hills, and the occasional dilapidated shack reminded them of a world that had long since forgotten its former glory.

Nessa had become more withdrawn since their encounter with the beasts. She would often slip away in the mornings, disappearing into the forest with the relic, as if searching for some elusive answer. Kaelen didn’t press her; he knew the weight she carried was heavier than most. But there was something in the way her eyes flickered to him when she returned, a question unasked.

It was one of those quiet mornings when the world felt suspended in time, that Sigrid finally broke the silence.

“You’ve been hunting for a long time,” she said, her voice low, the words slipping into the air like a secret.

Kaelen glanced over at her. “Long enough to know when to keep my mouth shut.”

She smirked, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Instead, there was a trace of something else there—something almost vulnerable, as if she were testing the waters of a conversation that had never come naturally to her. “Is that all you’ve learned? To keep your mouth shut?”

He chuckled, the sound rough, a quiet bitterness coloring his words. “The world’s full of idiots who talk too much. Sometimes, it’s better to listen and let them make fools of themselves.”

Sigrid didn’t laugh, though her lips twitched. “Fair enough. But that’s not what I meant. You... you know what it’s like, don’t you? To lose something you care about.”

Her words hit him like a sudden gust of cold wind. Kaelen froze for a moment, not sure how to respond. For the first time in a long while, the walls he’d built around himself felt fragile. He wasn’t ready to open up. Not to her. Not to anyone. But there was something about the way she spoke, the way her eyes seemed to study him, that made it impossible to ignore the question.

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“I’ve lost a lot,” he said quietly, his gaze fixed on the path ahead, avoiding her eyes. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to start crying about it.”

Sigrid’s voice softened, the bite in it gone. “No, you don’t strike me as the crying type.”

He didn’t know why he felt the need to push the conversation away. Maybe it was the weight of the years that had shaped him, the hard edges of his life that kept him from showing weakness. Or maybe it was because, deep down, he knew she wasn’t just talking about loss—she was asking about him. And that, he wasn’t ready for.

But Sigrid wasn’t done yet.

“You know, I never asked you how you ended up like this,” she said, her words cutting through the air again. “A hunter. A mercenary. What’s your story?”

Kaelen stiffened, the question digging into him like a knife. He wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her. The past was a shadow he had long since buried, a chapter he’d closed and never intended to reopen.

But as she sat across from him, those sharp eyes of hers never leaving his face, he knew there was no easy way out.

“It’s a long story,” he muttered, his fingers tracing the hilt of his sword absentmindedly. “One I don’t think you’d want to hear.”

“Try me,” Sigrid said. There was something in her voice—something softer than before—that made him pause.

Kaelen sighed, the weight of the years pulling him down. He didn’t look at her as he spoke, his words coming in a slow, detached flow. “I wasn’t always a hunter. Hell, I wasn’t always anything special. I was just a kid, living in a village. My father was a blacksmith, and my mother—well, she died when I was young. But the village was peaceful, quiet. It wasn’t much, but it was home.”

A bitter laugh escaped him. “Until the day it wasn’t.”

Sigrid didn’t interrupt, letting him speak, and for a moment, Kaelen wondered if she’d even heard what he said. But her silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was... understanding.

“We were attacked,” he continued, his voice hardening. “Bandits. Monsters. Whatever the hell you want to call them. They killed everyone. My father... he died protecting me. I wasn’t old enough to fight back. I wasn’t even strong enough to hold a sword.”

Kaelen paused, taking a deep breath, and for the first time in a long while, he felt the weight of that day pressing on him again. “After that, I had nothing. No family. No home. I was alone. So I became a hunter. A mercenary. Whatever I had to do to survive. I swore I’d never be weak again.”

The words were out before he could stop them, and Kaelen could feel the heat of Sigrid’s gaze on him. He braced for her judgment, the questions that would follow, but none came. Instead, she nodded slowly, a soft understanding in her eyes.

“I get it,” she said quietly. “You fight because it’s the only thing you know.”

Kaelen didn’t answer right away. It wasn’t a question he wanted to answer, not really. But when he finally did speak, his voice was quieter, less sure. “Yeah. I fight because... it’s the only way to keep from losing everything again.”

Sigrid didn’t speak for a long time. She simply watched him, the intensity of her gaze almost too much to bear. Finally, she stood, brushing the dirt from her pants.

“Come on,” she said, her tone shifting back to its usual coldness. “We’ve got a long way to go. And I don’t intend to waste time talking about things neither of us want to deal with.”

Kaelen stood up, wiping his hands on his tunic. He didn’t say anything as they packed up, but there was something in the air between them now—something heavier than before.

They didn’t talk about their pasts again, but the silence was no longer uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that only comes when two people understand each other without needing words.