Jack moved quickly, his wooden spear thrusting with precision as he stepped to the side, maintaining his mobility. Each strike met a sharp thunk as Ruben, towering at six feet tall, deflected the blows with his wooden longsword. Ruben wasn’t just tall—he was big, over two hundred pounds of solid muscle beneath a deceptive pot belly. For a 58-year-old man, he was still fast and strong. Jack could feel the weight behind each block, the force nearly knocking him off balance with every clash.
The two sparred in the yard in front of the house, the morning sun casting long shadows as they exchanged blow after blow. Jack was out here after a restless night’s sleep, trying to practice and stay fluid. He knew from his days in the army that the only way to improve was practice, practice, and more practice. Since his time in the dungeon, Jack had been relentless in honing his skills, and he wasn’t stopping now. When Ruben came by and offered to help, Jack initially thought he'd just be humoring the old man—but from their first exchange of blows, Jack realized just how much he had underestimated him.
Jack sidestepped, his spear darting forward, aiming for Ruben's midsection, but the older man twisted his body, parrying the blow with a swift, practiced motion. Before Jack could recover, Ruben’s wooden longsword came down in a heavy arc. Jack raised his spear just in time, the impact vibrating through his arms. He stumbled back, his legs straining to maintain his balance.
Ruben didn’t let up, driving forward with a relentless series of strikes—high, low, left, right. His wooden practice sword whistled through the air, each strike controlled but swift, testing Jack’s every defense. Jack barely kept pace, his own wooden spear flashing up to block or parry. The sharp cracks of wood colliding echoed through the training yard. Sweat dripped into Jack's eyes, blurring his vision, while his breath came faster, his chest rising and falling with the effort of fending off Ruben’s relentless assault.
Despite it being a practice session, Ruben moved with the precision of a seasoned warrior, his strikes targeted and calculated. Jack could feel the strength behind each swing, even though Ruben was pulling his blows to avoid causing injury. When Ruben aimed high, Jack raised his spear in a desperate block, only for Ruben to swiftly follow up with a low sweep, forcing Jack to hop back, narrowly avoiding the crack of wood against his shins.
Every near miss sent a jolt of urgency through Jack, but he reminded himself this was just training—there would be no real harm, only bruises and lessons. Still, the pressure weighed heavy. Ruben’s calm, focused expression, paired with a growing grin, only added to Jack’s frustration. It was clear now—Ruben was enjoying this. The precise, almost playful way he moved, the subtle flicker of amusement in his eyes—it was as if the whole bout was a game to him.
Jack lunged forward, hoping to create some space, but Ruben sidestepped effortlessly, his movements smooth and unhurried. He followed up with a sharp downward strike, knocking Jack’s spear out of line with an easy flick of the wrist. Jack barely had time to adjust before a sudden, sharp thwack connected just above his knee. The wooden sword hit with a sting that made him stumble, his leg throbbing from the impact. He grimaced, feeling the familiar ache settle in—he'd definitely have a bruise there by tomorrow.
Ruben’s smile widened slightly, the joy of the fight evident on his face. Despite the focus in his movements, there was no mistaking the fact that he was having fun, his eyes gleaming with each successful strike. Jack could feel his own frustration building, his arms growing heavier with every block, while Ruben seemed as fresh as ever, darting around with a fluid grace that almost made the sparring look effortless.
Deciding that a purely defensive stance was no longer an option, Jack shifted his approach. He darted forward, thrusting his spear at Ruben with renewed aggression, forcing him to retreat. Each time Ruben’s wooden sword deflected the spear, Jack barely paused, pulling back and launching another strike, determined not to let their weapons lock for long. His movements grew faster, more fluid, as he pressed Ruben with relentless, hammering strikes.
Jack’s attacks became unpredictable, his spear darting toward different targets—legs, head, arms—trying to catch Ruben off guard. But no matter how quickly or precisely he aimed, Ruben’s defense held firm. The older man’s wooden sword moved with effortless precision, blocking or parrying each attempt as though he could anticipate Jack’s every move. Frustration simmered in Jack’s chest, his strikes landing nowhere, as if Ruben was playing a step ahead of him at every turn.
His frustration reached a boiling point, and Jack swung his spear in a wide arc, sending a sharp, powerful strike toward Ruben’s side. It was faster, more forceful than before, meant to disrupt Ruben’s perfect rhythm. But Ruben, calm and composed as ever, stepped back just in time, letting the spear slice harmlessly through the air, barely an inch from his face.
Jack’s teeth clenched, his muscles burning with the effort of each failed attempt. The frustration of being unable to land even a single hit gnawed at him, driving him to push harder. His footwork quickened, his strikes coming in rapid succession, each one fiercer than the last. The spear flashed with blinding speed as he unleashed a barrage of slashes and thrusts, determined to break Ruben’s defense.
But it was no use. No matter how much speed or power Jack put into his assault, Ruben remained untouchable. Every blow was turned aside, every strike neutralized with infuriating ease. Ruben moved like water, fluid and unshakable, his defense impenetrable. The gap between them became more glaring with each clash, and Jack’s frustration boiled hotter with every failed attempt. He could feel it now—he was slipping, the anger threatening to cloud his focus.
Jack's frustration finally hit its peak. His attacks were relentless, driven by sheer determination, but Ruben deflected each one with the same maddening ease, like he was barely breaking a sweat. Jack’s spear, sharp and precise, should’ve found its mark by now. But Ruben moved like he could see Jack’s every intention before it even formed, weaving through each strike as if it were choreographed. Jack knew he had to try something different, something Ruben wouldn’t expect.
An idea flashed in Jack’s mind—something bold, something unconventional. Instead of attacking in his usual pattern, he shifted gears. He feinted a thrust, drawing Ruben’s attention to the expected strike. But at the last second, Jack planted his foot hard into the ground, using the momentum to pivot sharply to the side.
Ruben’s eyes narrowed, instantly recognizing the feint, but Jack was already in motion. With a fluid, sweeping movement, Jack dropped low and spun, sending his spear in a wide, powerful arc aimed at Ruben’s legs. The force behind the swing was enough to topple most opponents, and for a split second, Jack thought this might finally break through.
Ruben reacted just in time, hopping backward with a grace that barely disrupted his stance, avoiding the sweep by mere inches. But Jack didn’t stop. Following through with the momentum, he swung his spear upward in a sharp arc, aiming directly at Ruben’s chest. The sudden shift from low to high caught Ruben by surprise, and Jack caught the flicker of acknowledgment in his opponent’s eyes.
Ruben brought his sword up quickly to block, the wooden weapons clashing with a resounding crack that echoed across the training yard. Jack could feel the impact reverberate through his arms, but he could also see it—the brief flicker of surprise on Ruben’s face. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
Still, Ruben didn’t falter. He maintained his defense, stepping back smoothly and resetting their positions before Jack could press the advantage. Jack rose to his feet, breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his forehead. His heart pounded, his muscles ached, but he felt a small sense of triumph—he had made Ruben work for it. Even if just for a moment.
Jack stopped, out of breath and tired, lowering his spear and using it as a resting post. Ruben, barely winded, placed his wooden sword down and smiled. "You're good, Jack, but you’ve got a long way to go," he said, stretching his back.
Jack, still catching his breath, looked at Ruben with narrowed eyes. "Who the hell are you? No mayor fights like that."
Ruben chuckled and waved him off casually. "Oh, I’m just a simple old man. No need to—"
Before he could finish, a voice called out from the porch. "Ruben, don’t lie to the poor boy, you humble bastard!" It was Charlet, arms crossed, shaking her head. "Jack, he was the commander of the Rangers for 15 years. One of the best swordsmen in the land. He even beat the Storm Knight Commander himself, back in the day."
Jack stared at Ruben, stunned. Ruben just shrugged with a sheepish grin. "Well, that was a long time ago."
Jack grinned, breathing heavily."You’re not makin’ this easy for me,"
Ruben chuckled. "If it were easy, you wouldn’t learn. You’ve got good instincts—speed and grit. But," he added, his tone more serious, "you’re relying too much on strength. That’ll wear you out fast."
Jack straightened up, listening intently. "So what should I do?"
"You’re pressing hard, but your moves are predictable. You need to be more fluid. Stop telegraphing every strike. Think two steps ahead—create openings, don’t just wait for them. And conserve your energy. This isn’t a sprint, it’s a marathon."
Jack nodded, his breath steadying. "I’ll work on it."
Ruben smiled, patting Jack on the shoulder. "You’ve got the right spirit. Keep practicing—you’ll get there."
Jack shook his head and laughed. He knew he had gotten lucky, stumbling into a town with two high-level people like Ruben and Charlet. It set him at ease, but he also knew they couldn’t stay here forever. Once the Order of the Sky Knights made contact with them, he planned to leave—not sure where, but he'd figure it out. He needed to talk to the kids and, hopefully, Kadean about where their clan is. Charlet had mentioned that Kadean was recovering faster than expected, so Jack hoped he’d be awake and ready for a conversation today.
As Jack gathered his thoughts, he felt a small tug at his pants leg. Glancing down, he saw Roran shyly looking up at him. Jack crouched down to meet the boy eye to eye, softening his tone. "What can I do for ya, Roran?" he asked gently. The boy had been through so much, and this was the first time either of the kids had approached Jack on their own.
Roran glanced around nervously before speaking in a quiet voice, quite different from his usual demeanor. "Can... can you teach me?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
Jack raised an eyebrow, surprised, and then chuckled. "Y’sure you wanna learn from me? Why not Ruben? He’s a lot better,"Jack tilted his spear towards Ruben, who had been quietly observing them. But Roran shook his head, determination shining in his eyes.
No. I want to fight with a spear! I want to learn how to use it like you do!" Roran said excitedly, his usual shyness disappearing as he spoke.
Jack raised an eyebrow in surprise but chuckled. "You wanna learn from me, huh?" he said, clearly amused. "Well, I ain’t sure if I’m all that great, but I can teach ya what I know,"
Roran’s face lit up with a wide smile. Before Jack could continue, Ruben chimed in from the side with a smirk. "Well, learning to fight with a spear takes more than just watching. You’ve got to master the basics first."
Jack nodded, appreciating Ruben’s comment."He’s right, Roran. Before ya start thinkin’ ’bout fancy moves, ya gotta learn control, balance, an’ how to handle the spear proper,"
Roran nodded eagerly, his excitement undiminished. Jack handed him a small practice spear, one that was a good size for the boy, and motioned for him to follow. "Alright, let’s start with how to hold it. Grip is everything."
And so, Jack’s morning turned into an afternoon of training. Roran, focused and determined, kept practicing the simple thrusting technique until his form improved. The kid had energy and potential, and while Jack was sure that in a few odd years, Roran would be on the road to be a great fighter.
-------
Kadean’s entire body screamed in pain as he blinked his eyes open, disoriented and overwhelmed. Everything hurt—more than he ever thought possible. He wasn’t sure where he was, but the last thing he remembered was the slaver, his filthy hands crushing Kadean’s throat, lifting him off the ground. The pressure had been unbearable, the world dimming around him as he gasped for air, and then—nothing. Blackness.
Now, his breath came in shaky, painful gasps. His chest felt tight, as though the slaver’s hands were still wrapped around his neck, and every breath came with a jagged sting. His muscles ached, unused to this kind of abuse, and his leg—his leg was burning with pain. He tried to move, but the sharp, stabbing agony that tore through him nearly made him pass out again. He let out a soft, pitiful whimper, his body trembling as he clutched at the bed beneath him, trying to ground himself.
His heart pounded as he tried to make sense of where he was. Maybe he’d been left in a ditch to die, or maybe he was still in chains, forgotten. But as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he realized something wasn’t right. The bed beneath him was soft—too soft, in fact, far nicer than the rough traveling blanket he’d been using for weeks. The blankets were warm, and the pillow was almost absurdly comfortable, making his body want to relax despite the pain screaming through him.
Kadean bit his lip, trying to fight back the urge to just curl up and go back to sleep. He knew he couldn’t. He was vulnerable—more vulnerable than he’d ever been. He wasn’t wearing anything, and that made his already frazzled nerves spike even more. His hands shook as he shifted, a sharp gasp escaping him as the pain in his leg flared again. He looked down, his vision swimming, and saw the bloodstained bandages wrapped around his leg. It didn’t look good.
Kadean’s heart raced, and he tried to calm himself with the facts—like he always did when things got too overwhelming. Okay, you’re injured. You’re in a bed, so someone must have found you. Maybe it’s safe... but where are the kids? Panic crept in, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. He had to find them. He needed to get up, but the thought of moving again made his stomach twist.
Scanning the room, Kadean’s eyes landed on a dresser with medical supplies scattered on top of it. His gaze locked on an orange potion. Potions usually meant healing, right? That’s what he’d read. He just had to reach it. But... could he even manage that in his current state? He sighed shakily, frustration building alongside the pain. His shy, introverted nature made him feel even more helpless—he wasn’t brave, not like the others. He wasn’t used to this kind of physical pain or danger. But the kids... they needed him. And that thought alone was enough to push him, no matter how much it hurt.
Kadean tried to lift himself out of the bed, his whole body trembling with the effort. The moment he put weight on his injured leg, a sharp, searing pain shot through him. With a grunt, he collapsed back into the bed, gasping for air. His hands clutched the blankets in frustration as he lay there, panting, his mind racing. I need to get up. I have to. But the pain was so intense, his vision swam, and for a moment, he thought he might pass out.
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After a few deep breaths, Kadean forced himself to focus. He shifted the weight onto his uninjured leg, using his arms to push himself upright again. The effort left him shaking, but he bit his lip and tried to focus on the task at hand—getting to that potion. Slowly, he stood, wincing as he lightly touched his wounded leg to the floor. He was almost afraid to move, but there was no other choice. With each hobbling step, his leg throbbed, sending waves of pain through him. He flailed for balance as he crossed the room, nearly losing his footing several times.
By the time he reached the dresser, he was drenched in sweat and his breaths came in shallow gasps. His body felt weak, like he might collapse any second. He barely made it, slumping heavily against the dresser, clutching the edge with trembling hands. Kadean's vision blurred again, and for a moment, he thought he might black out from the sheer exhaustion and pain. His legs felt like jelly, and the constant throb in his leg was almost unbearable.
Panting, he reached up with his left hand, fumbling clumsily for the potion. His fingers slipped once—twice—before he finally managed to grasp it. His hand shook as he brought the potion to his lips, downing the liquid in a single desperate gulp. The moment it hit his system, a wave of relief washed over him, the sharpest edges of the pain ebbing away. The wound on his leg began to mend, the unbearable agony reducing to a dull, tight sting.
Kadean's breath slowed, and for a brief moment, he closed his eyes, just allowing himself to feel the relief. He wasn’t entirely healed—there was still pain—but it was more bearable now, more manageable. Slowly, he unwrapped the bloodstained bandages, his heart pounding as he peeled back the layers. Beneath, he saw a small, round bolt wound where the crossbow bolt had hit. It had begun to heal, the edges of the wound closing up. The hole was still there, but no longer as raw or dangerous as before.
Still favoring his injured leg, Kadean stood again, stretching out cautiously. The pain was manageable now, but his body still felt weak. At least, for the moment, he could move. And he had to find the kids.
As Kadean carefully stretched, his body still aching from the effort, the sound of a loud crash shattered the brief moment of peace. He spun around, his heart jumping into his throat. Standing in the doorway was a girl with brown hair and piercing blue eyes, her hand covering her mouth in shock. She stared at him, her eyes wide.
For a second, Kadean froze, his mind blank. He didn’t know what to do, what to say—he simply stood there, motionless, unsure of how to react. His heart raced, panic flooding his senses, making him feel even more vulnerable. The girl, seemingly just as startled, quickly turned her back to him, her long brown hair swishing as she moved. That’s when the realization hit him like a punch to the gut.
I’m naked.
A wave of embarrassment swept over Kadean, his face flushing hotly as he scrambled to grab the nearest blanket. His hands shook as he clutched it around himself, desperately trying to maintain some shred of dignity. His mind raced, searching for words—anything to break the awkward silence, but all that came out was a jumble of nervous stammering.
“I—I’m… sorry… umm, I didn’t know anyone was... here,” he stuttered, his voice shaky. “Umm… haha.”
He tried to laugh it off, but it came out weak and awkward. His cheeks burned, and he looked anywhere but at the girl’s back, feeling more and more foolish by the second. She was about his age, maybe a bit younger—19 at most—wearing a simple green dress with a scarf wrapped around her hair. Despite his embarrassment, Kadean noticed that she didn’t seem angry, just startled. The silence between them stretched uncomfortably as he fumbled with the blanket, his heart still pounding in his chest.
He shifted awkwardly, his injured leg still throbbing, making it even harder to find his footing in the situation. His mind whirled with thoughts of how ridiculous this all was—him, in pain, naked, stumbling over his words like a fool in front of this stranger.The girl marched away in a hurry, and no sooner had she disappeared down the hall than Kadean heard the unmistakable sound of laughter echoing from somewhere below. His face still burned with embarrassment, but before he had a chance to even process what was happening, he heard the thunder of footsteps racing up the stairs.
There was no time to react. Both Thali and Roran burst into the room like a whirlwind, their tear-streaked faces full of relief and panic. Before he could say anything, they charged straight at him, tackling him to the ground. Kadean shouted in pain as he hit the floor, barely managing to keep a grip on the sheet he had wrapped around himself. His leg throbbed painfully, and he winced, but he couldn’t help it—he wrapped his arms around the kids, feeling them shaking as they clung to him.
Both Thali and Roran were sobbing uncontrollably, their faces red and blotchy, tears and snot mixing as they hugged him as tightly as their little arms would allow. Thali was clutching his chest, her small body trembling as she buried her face into him. Roran had grabbed onto his arm, squeezing it as if he were afraid Kadean would disappear again. Kadean didn’t know what to say—his mind was still reeling from the pain, the suddenness of everything, and the overwhelming emotions. All he could do was hold them close, his own tears silently spilling over as he cried with them.
The weight of it all—nearly dying, the kids’ fear, the relief of being reunited—hit him hard. He hadn’t realized just how much they meant to him until this very moment, as they lay there on the floor, hugging him like their lives depended on it.
Between their sobs, the words started pouring out.
“We thought you were going to die!” Thali screamed, clutching his chest even tighter, her voice shaking with emotion.
“Please don’t do that again, Kadenad!” Roran cried, his grip on Kadean’s arm tightening as though he feared letting go.
Kadean’s heart broke hearing their desperation, and he choked back a sob, wiping his eyes as he tried to speak. But the words caught in his throat, and for a moment, he could only hold them, his own tears falling freely. He hadn’t realized how much they had been carrying, how terrified they must have been. They had thought they’d lost him, and now they were holding on for dear life, unwilling to let him go.
Finally, Kadean managed to speak, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry... I’m here, I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, his arms wrapping tighter around them. “I promise I’ll be more careful.”
As they cried together, the room was filled with a bittersweet sense of relief, the weight of their fear slowly lifting. Kadean didn’t know if he could ever fully protect them, but in that moment, he swore to himself he would try—no matter how hard it was.
Kadean did his best to reassure the kids, though it took a good ten minutes before their tears subsided and they let him sit back on the bed. A 30-something half-elf woman approached, her expression focused as she began examining him. She had blonde hair and green eyes, wearing a green dress similar to the other girl’s. Her name was Charlet, and she wasted no time with pleasantries, moving directly to inspect Kadean’s injuries.
She muttered under her breath, casting several spells over him as her brow furrowed in confusion. Her hands hovered just above his skin, and a soft glow of magic passed over his body.
“I have no idea how this happened,” Charlet said, shaking her head. “You should still be down for at least another week with the poison and infection. Hell, taking that potion should’ve made it worse, but somehow you’re almost healed. You’ll still be in pain for a while, though.”
Kadean nodded as she continued her examination, mostly focused on his body now that his throat and leg wounds had closed. Charlet seemed particularly puzzled by the speed of his recovery. She glanced at the kids and at a man standing nearby, who had been quietly watching the whole time. The man was taller and broader than Kadean but had kindly provided him with some pants to replace the blanket Kadean had been clutching. They weren’t a perfect fit, but at least he was no longer naked.
Charlet let out a heavy sigh and looked over at the girl from earlier—Julair, if he remembered right. “Go ahead, get him some soup,” Charlet instructed. “You’ll be on a strict liquid diet for lunch,” she said, turning back to Kadean, her voice still firm. “If you can hold that down, maybe we can move on to soft foods by dinner.”
With that, Julair nodded and headed down the stairs, As Charlet continued her examination, Kadean couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by everything that had happened. The pain was still present, but he was more focused on how quickly things had changed. He took a breath and looked up at Charlet.
“Thank you… for everything,” he said quietly, gratitude in his voice.
Charlet paused, giving him a quick glance, then nodded, but instead of taking the thanks, she gestured behind her, where the man who had been standing quietly watched.
“Don’t thank me,” she said gruffly. “Thank him.”
Kadean turned his gaze toward the man. He was tall, about 6’2”, with a muscular build. His blue eyes and scruffy brown hair gave him a rugged appearance, and his beard, though a bit unkempt, added to his tough demeanor. He wore a simple white shirt, brown pants, and black boots—nothing fancy, but it suited him. Charlet continued, “That’s Jack. He’s the one who saved you and the kids and brought you here.”
Kadean’s eyes widened as he looked at Jack, suddenly realizing just how much he owed this man. He tried to speak, but his throat tightened with emotion. All he could manage was a soft, “Thank you.”
Jack nodded, offering a small, reassuring smile, as if to say it was no big deal. But to Kadean, it meant everything. Charlet stood up, “He needs rest, and he needs it now. I’m leaving, and you’re coming with me—both of you. Let’s go.” she placed her hands on the kids forcing them out despite their protest She turned her sharp gaze to Jack, her voice firm. “You can talk to him, but make it quick. He’s gonna need at least a week to recover. No pushing it, you hear?” She gave him a hard look, leaving no room for argument. She left and clouds the door.
Kaeden sat there, watching Jack, trying to recall more clearly who he was. He had to be the man who had stepped in when those slavers had cornered them. Not many would risk their neck for strangers, and for that, Kaeden was grateful.
Jack leaned against the wall, quiet and thoughtful. Kaeden figured he was gathering his thoughts and was content to wait, giving him the chance to speak first. After a few moments of silence, Jack finally spoke.
“Glad t’see you’re alright, Had me worried for a bit there, thought you weren’t gonna make it.” Kaeden noticed the subtle accent in Jack’s speech it was strange but Kaeden was unsure where it came from.
“Yeah, I didn’t think so either. My leg was on fire after getting shot. I was mostly just hoping to find a safe spot for the kids before I couldn’t keep going.” Glancing at Jack he smiled. “Thank you, again. Not many people would’ve stepped up like you did.”
"No need. I wasn’t gonna at first, if I’m honest," Jack said, his voice carrying that familiar drawl, calm but with an undercurrent of intensity. "But I can’t stand folks that try to control others. Figured it’s never the wrong time to put down some mutts." His words came out sharper now, and a cold, predatory smile tugged at his lips. Kaeden felt a slight shiver run down his spine at the sight.
Jack let his smile fade, his tone shifting to something more serious. "Anyways, I wanted to ask ya a few questions, if you’re up to it," he said, his light accent softening his words but keeping the focus clear.
Kaeden nodded, not seeing any issue with that. "Sure, ask away."
"So, what happened? I didn’t get much outta the kids," Jack continued, leaning forward slightly. "I’m curious—how’d you guys end up gettin’ attacked like that?" His voice remained calm, but there was a hint of concern behind the question.
Kaeden took a deep breath before looking at Jack, his voice trembling. “We were ambushed, Jack. It all happened so fast. The caravan was moving along like normal, then suddenly there was a whistle, and everything changed. Ilthra and the scouts rushed into the woods, and that’s when I knew something was wrong. The guards, the captain—everyone was on edge. Before we could react, they hit us. Slavers. Arrows, fire—everything just exploded around us. I thought I could help with magic, but I wasn’t ready. I barely dodged a crossbow bolt, and Tharin had to pull me out of the open before I got hit again."
Kaeden paused, his eyes distant. "It was a slaughter. They surrounded us—slavers cutting through the guards, shouting about capturing the women and children. Captain Orin fought like hell, but there were too many. We had no choice. The captain called for the Shatter Plan—Gold level. That meant destroying everything, leaving it all behind. We blew up the carriages and ran into the woods, hiding under camouflage. Tharin and I huddled with some kids, hoping the guards would buy us time. They’re out there sacrificing themselves so we could get away."
He faltered for a moment, his voice dropping. "It all went wrong, Jack. So fast. Draxis—he betrayed us. Took Ilthra’s blades. He was working with them. Tharin fought him off, told me to run. I grabbed the twins and ran as far as I could, but they caught us. The slavers cornered us. They were laughing, taunting us. They wanted the kids."
Kaeden’s breathing grew unsteady, panic creeping back into his voice. "I thought I’d failed them, Jack. I tried to stand up to the slavers, but I couldn’t..." He trailed off, his voice barely above a whisper, the weight of it all hitting him.
Before he could finish, Jack placed a firm hand on his shoulder, cutting him off gently but firmly. "Easy, Kaeden," Jack said, his voice calm and steady, his light accent grounding the moment. "I know the rest." Jack rested his hand on his shoulder letting him calm donw
“Thank you… I’m sorry, I don’t even know what happened,” Kaeden said, his breath still hitching but calmer now, the weight of the moment slowly easing.
"It’s alright," Jack said, his voice carrying that subtle, easy drawl. "Goin' through somethin' like that, it messes with ya. You’ll need to work through it. I’ve seen plenty of folks try to shove it down, pretend they’re fine, and it just... broke 'em. Not sayin’ ya gotta fix it all now, but ya gotta face it, piece by piece. Don’t let it eat at ya." He stepped back, giving Kaeden some space, watching as the younger man pulled himself together.
After a moment, when Kaeden seemed more composed, Jack continued, his tone calm and steady. "So, with that outta the way—where and when were you supposed to meet your clan?"
"South of Starfall Watch," Kaeden said, still a little shaky but regaining his composure. "We were meant to meet up somewhere near there. Our leader, Orin, had the exact details, but I’m not sure. We were supposed to reach them today, actually. They’ll notice we’re missing by now." Jack frowned slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing his face, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he gave a thoughtful nod, letting Kaeden’s words settle before deciding on their next move.
"Do y’all have any plans for what happens if they don’t meet up with you?" Jack asked, his voice steady, a subtle hint of his accent coming through. He shifted slightly, his expression more focused now.
"They’ll probably send out a search party and talk to the local lords. My clan’s got good relations with the Stormraven family—they rule this land, so they might help," Kaeden said, his voice a bit more confident now. "I’m surprised the slavers would attack us here, though. The Stormravens aren’t fans of their kind."
"I see," Jack said, his tone measured as he looked at Kaeden. "Any idea why they’d target you? Slavers usually don’t hit a well-protected caravan without a reason. It’s a big risk, especially if they knew your clan’s got allies in the area. Folks don’t pull moves like that unless there’s a bigger plan in play." He paused, thinking for a moment. "You mentioned a traitor... Draxis. How long do you think he was compromised?"
“I don’t know," Kaeden said, shaking his head, clearly confused. "As far as I know, slavery’s been outlawed in most of Avaloaris for 50 years now." His brow furrowed in frustration, the situation not adding up in his mind. "It doesn’t make sense—why would slavers take that kind of risk here?" He hesitated, then continued, his voice quieter carrying a hint of anger. "As for Draxis… he’s been acting weird since we crossed the Northern Mountains about a month ago. Got worse when we got the recall command from the Matriarch. I didn’t think much of it at first, but looking back, something was off. He started distancing himself, always finding excuses to go off on his own. But I never imagined..." Kaeden trailed off, still trying to make sense of Draxis’s betrayal.
Jack nodded thoughtfully, taking in everything Kaeden had said. He glanced at the injured young man, then back out at the surrounding woods. "Look, with you injured, and us not knowin’ if there’s more slavers or even another traitor lurking around, tryin’ to travel right now ain’t exactly a good plan. Our best bet might be waitin’ for the Griffin Knights," Jack said, his tone steady and practical. "They’re likely already searchin’ for you. They’ve got the strength and the resources to get in contact with your clan and escort you and the kids safely to them. If we stay put, keep hidden, and let the Knights do their job, we’ve got a much better chance of gettin’ out of this without runnin' into more trouble."
Jack gave Kaeden a firm nod, the plan sounding more solid as he laid it out. He shifted, stretching his back, the weight of the long day settling into his muscles. With a slight wince, he straightened up and turned toward the exit. "You should get some rest," Jack said, rolling his shoulders as if preparing to leave. "We’ve got a bit of time before anything happens."
Just as Jack was about to step away, Kaeden interrupted him, his voice hesitant but filled with curiosity. "Jack, wait—can I ask you something?" Jack nodded.
Jack rubbed his beard thoughtfully, eyes distant as he considered the situation. "Roran’s fakin’ it, tryin’ to be brave. You can see it in his eyes—he’s scared, but he’s pushin’ through. I think he’ll be alright in the long run. Kids like him usually bounce back." He paused for a moment before continuing. "As for Talia, she’s been spending most of her time with Jullian and Charlet. I think she’ll be okay, though—it’s hard to tell with how quiet she’s been, but from what I’ve seen, they’ve been taking good care of her."
Kaeden felt a deep sense of gratitude, the worry he’d been carrying easing just a bit. Knowing the children were in capable hands, and that they hadn’t been too deeply affected by the trauma, allowed him to breathe easier.
As Jack nodded and turned to leave, Kaeden lay back in the bed. The exhaustion he’d been holding at bay for so long suddenly hit him like a wave. His body ached, and the adrenaline that had kept him going finally gave way to fatigue. He stared up at the ceiling for a moment, letting the weight of the day settle over him, and slowly, he drifted into a deep, much-needed sleep