Darian stepped into the Great Cathedral of Light, blinking as his eyes adjusted from the bright sunlight outside to the softer glow within. The air smelled of incense and candle wax.

The pews were far from empty, with many of Arbrook's residents kneeling in prayer or sitting in quiet contemplation. It was said that the Cathedral was never without worshippers present - the Church of Light was easily the most popular faith in the kingdom.

He made his way slowly up the main aisle, marvelling at the vaulted ceilings that soared overhead. At the front, a grandfatherly priest in white and gold robes stood at the altar, his arms spread wide as he concluded a blessing over a young couple.

Darian hovered awkwardly near a pillar, not wanting to interrupt. As the couple made their way back down the aisle, beaming at each other, the priest's kindly eyes fell on Darian. He smiled and beckoned him forward.

"Welcome, my son," the priest said as Darian approached. "How may I be of service today?"

"I...I need your help, Father," Darian began, his throat suddenly dry. "There are bandits on the road. They're planning to ambush the students leaving the city after the exams. People are going to die if we don't stop them."

The priest's brow furrowed as Darian spoke, but he listened patiently, never once interrupting. When Darian finished, the priest placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"You did the right thing, coming to us," he said solemnly. "The Church of Light will not stand idly by while innocents are threatened." His grip tightened. "Do not fear, my son. The God of Light will protect his faithful. We will see to it that no harm comes to those students."

Darian felt weak with relief. Finally, someone believed him. Someone was going to help.

"Thank you, Father," he whispered. "Thank you so much."

The priest patted his shoulder once more before releasing him. "Of course. Now tell me, who else have you informed of this plot?"

Darian shuffled his feet. "I tried to tell the exam proctors, but they wouldn't listen. And the Adventurer's Guild said they needed proof, or coin, before they'd act." He looked down, blinking back sudden tears. "No one believed me."

"Until now," the priest said firmly. "You've done your part, Darian of Brookhaven. Now leave the rest to us. Go home, and speak of this to no one else. We will handle matters from here."

Darian's head snapped up. "How did you know my name? Or where I'm from?"

The priest just smiled, his eyes twinkling. "The God of Light knows all his children. Now go in peace, my son. Trust in your faith, and all will be well."

Still a bit shocked, Darian could only nod mutely before turning to leave. He felt lighter than he had in days as he walked back down the aisle. The Church would take care of everything. Breck and the others would be safe now. He had done it.

Lost in thought, Darian didn't notice the young man leaning against the wall outside until he nearly walked right into him. He stumbled back with a yelp, an apology already on his lips.

"Sorry! I didn't see-" The words died as Darian got a good look at the person he'd bumped into. Sandy hair, a scar across his brow, and piercing green eyes that watched Darian with an unsettling intensity. He was young, only a few years older than Darian himself, but he had the hardened look of someone who'd seen more than his share of battles.

"You're the boy from the Adventurer's Guild," the young man said, more statement than question. "The one going on about bandits and ambushes."

Darian tensed, remembering the priest's warning. He shouldn't be talking about this. "I shouldn’t be talking about this,” he mumbled, edging around the adventurer. "I need to go."

Quick as a snake, the young man's hand shot out and caught Darian's arm in an iron grip. Darian froze.

"Not so fast," the adventurer said, his voice low. "I heard what you said in there, about the attack. And I want in."

Darian yanked his arm free with a glare, rubbing his wrist. "Well, you're too late. It's not a job anymore. The Church is handling it now."

The adventurer cocked his head. "Is that so? Well, the more the merrier, I say. My boys and I will still tag along, lend a hand. Pro bono, like."

Darian narrowed his eyes, suspicion coiling in his gut. "Why? Since when do adventurers work for free?"

The young man flashed a smile, all white teeth and arrogance. "Since there's more to life than coin, kid. See, me and my crew, we like a challenge. This bandit crew of yours sounds like a good time. And taking them down alongside the holier-than-thou Light brigade? That's the stuff of legends, mate. The kind of story people tell over ales for years to come."

Darian rolled his eyes. Of course. Even when they were doing good, adventurers were still just glory-seeking braggarts at heart.

"Fine, do what you want," he muttered. "But I'm not paying you."

"Wouldn't dream of it." The adventurer stuck out his hand. "Elias Wolfheart, D-rank adventurer, at your service."

Darian gaped at him, mind reeling. A D-rank? But he was so young!

Rank in the Adventurer's Guild started at a lowly F, and went up with each great deed, discovery, or tale to one's name. To be a D-rank was to be one of the most elite warriors in the kingdom, second only to the royal knights themselves.

And this Elias claimed that rank already, despite being barely older than Darian? It was unheard of. Even most grizzled veterans never made it past C-rank.

Seeing his shock, Elias chuckled. "I'm good at what I do, what can I say?" He wiggled his fingers impatiently, hand still outstretched. "So do we have a deal or not, kid?"

Darian eyed the hand warily for a long moment. Something about this Elias Wolfheart rubbed him the wrong way. He was too cocky, too slick. And what kind of person hungered so much for the thrill of battle and bloodshed? It was...unsettling.

But beggars couldn't be choosers. If Elias and his crew really were as skilled as he claimed, then they would be a huge help against the bandits. And the road would be that much safer with adventurers guarding it as well as priests.

With a sigh, Darian reached out and clasped Elias' hand in a quick, firm shake. The adventurer's fingers were calloused and scarred, his grip strong as iron.

"Deal," Darian muttered. "They'll be attacking the Oaksbridge Road as people leave the city tomorrow morning. Be there or don't, I don't really care. Just stay out of the Church's way."

He quickly rattled off other locations which would make sense for the bandits to ambush, adding as many details as he could recall from his visions. Where the bandits would be lying in wait. How many there were. What weapons they favoured. The cold, cruel glint in their leader's eye as he gutted Breck...

Darian shuddered, wrenching his mind away from the memories with an effort. He couldn't dwell on that now. Not when there was still so much to do.

Elias listened intently, nodding along, his expression thoughtful. When Darian finished, he gave a jaunty salute.

"Righto, me and my boys can take Oaksbridge and few of the other roads, the church can have the others." He grinned, feral and fierce. "This is gonna be fun."

With that, he ran off. Darian watched him go, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't shake the sense that he'd just made a deal with a very dangerous man. Like he'd glimpsed the wolf behind the grin.

But it was too late for second thoughts now. What was done was done. He'd just have to hope that Elias and his friends would keep their word. That when the time came, they'd fight for more than just glory and a good tale.

Shaking himself, Darian turned and headed back towards the inn, his steps quick and purposeful. He still had to convince Breck to delay their departure a few days. And warn Lila, and Kara, and anyone else who would listen.

There was still so much to do, and so little time. But at least now, he wasn't alone. The Church was on his side. And the adventurers, for what they were worth. It would have to be enough.

It had to be.

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Darian pushed open the door to the common room of the Dancing Dragon inn, breathing a sigh of relief at the familiar smells of ale and hearth-smoke. After the grandeur of the Cathedral and the unnerving encounter with Elias, the cozy inn felt like a little piece of home.

Breck was right where he'd left him, hunched over a table with a few other burly men, all roaring with laughter at some joke. They looked like locals, farmers and craftsmen from their dirt-stained boots and rough homespun.

Darian edged his way through the crowd, trying not to disturb any of the patrons. The common room was packed at this hour, with townsfolk and travellers alike jostling for space at the long trestle tables.

Breck spotted him as he approached, eyebrows raising. He waved off his drinking companions and stood, planting his fists on his hips. "Darian! How'd the test go, lad? Over so soon?"

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His eyes crinkled with concern as he took in Darian's dishevelled appearance - his rumpled hair and red-rimmed eyes, the sweat beading his brow.

Darian forced a smile, hoping it looked more convincing than it felt. "It was...easier than I expected, actually. I think I did pretty well."

That much was true, at least, even if the rest was a lie by omission. He hated deceiving Breck, but he couldn't exactly tell him the real reason he'd finished so quickly.

Breck's face split into a wide grin, and he clapped Darian on the shoulder hard enough to make him stagger. "Ha! I knew you had it in you, boy-o! Knew all that book-learnin' would pay off." He lowered his voice. "And here you were frettin' about that nightmare of yours. See? T'was nothing to worry over."

Darian's smile faltered slightly, and he looked away. If only Breck knew how real, how terrifyingly prophetic, that "nightmare" had been...

He shook himself, pushing the thought aside. "Listen, Breck, can we talk? In private?" He glanced meaningfully at the stairs leading up to the rooms.

The big man blinked, gaze sharpening. "Aye, sure thing."

He followed Darian up to their room, closing the door softly behind them. Breck leaned against it, folding his arms over his chest as he looked at Darian expectantly.

"Alright then, lad, out with it. What's eatin' you?"

Darian bit his lip, suddenly unsure how to begin. He'd been rehearsing this conversation in his head all day, but now that the moment was here, the words seemed to shrivel up and die on his tongue.

"I...I think we should stay in Arbrook a while longer," he said at last, wincing at how weak it sounded. "A few more days, at least. To rest and resupply before we head home."

Breck's brow crinkled. "Is this about that dream again? Lad, we talked about this. Stayin' cooped up in the city won't make your imaginings any less frightful."

"They're not just dreams!" The words burst out of Darian in a rush, louder and more forceful than he'd intended. Breck rocked back on his heels, startled.

Darian squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. "I mean...I know how it sounds. But I'm telling you, Breck, something bad is going to happen if we leave tomorrow. Call it a gut feeling, or intuition, or whatever you like. But I know it, as sure as I'm standing here."

He opened his eyes, meeting Breck's gaze pleadingly. "Please. Just a few more days. That's all I ask."

For a long moment, Breck just stared at him, an unreadable expression on his face. Darian held his breath, not daring to hope.

Then, slowly, Breck released a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging. "Aye, alright. You win, lad. We'll stay on a bit, if it means that much t'you."

His stern gaze softened as he regarded Darian, reaching out to tousle his hair fondly. "Just don't go making a habit of this, mind. A man's got to face his fears sometime. Can't run forever."

Darian felt his knees go weak with relief, and he sagged into Breck's touch. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you, Breck."

The blacksmith just snorted, giving him a gentle shove. "Yeah, yeah. Save your thanks by buying me an ale or two when you're a big scholar, to make up for the coin this little holiday of yours is gonna cost me."

But there was no real heat in his words, and his eyes twinkled as he slung an arm around Darian's shoulders.

"Now come on then, let's see about some grub. All that worryin' of yours is hungry work, I'll warrant!"

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Darian was halfway through his second bowl of mutton stew when Lila came bursting into the common room like a brown-haired hurricane.

She made a beeline for their table, weaving between the other patrons without spilling a drop of the two milkshakes clutched in her hands.

"Darian!" she cried as she reached them. "How'd it go? You were done so fast, I thought for sure..."

She trailed off, worry creasing her brow as she plunked the glasses down and slid onto the bench beside him. Lila leaned in close, searching his face intently. "Are you alright? Did something happen?"

Darian mustered a smile, hoping it would ease the concern in her eyes. "No, no, nothing like that. The test went fine, actually. Better than fine. Turns out all that cramming paid off."

Lila blinked, drawing back slightly. A slow, delighted grin spread across her face. "Really? That's wonderful!" She punched his arm playfully. "And here I was fretting myself sick over you, you big jerk! Making me think you'd bombed it or something."

Darian laughed, rubbing his arm in mock pain. "Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to worry you."

He took a swig of milkshake to hide the guilt twisting in his gut. He hated lying to Lila, but he couldn't exactly tell her the real reason he'd left the exam hall so early. She'd think he'd lost his mind.

"It's funny," Lila mused, oblivious to his inner turmoil. "So many of the questions they asked were ones we went over together. It was almost eerie, like you knew exactly what would be on it..."

Her eyes narrowed, and she pointed an accusing finger at him. "Hey, wait a minute. You didn't cheat, did you? Bribe one of the proctors for an early peek at the test?"

"What? No!" Darian sputtered, his face flushing. "I would never-"

But Lila was already laughing, waving off his protests. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Relax, Dar. I know you'd never do something like that." She shook her head, still grinning. "You're too annoyingly honest for your own good sometimes, you know that?"

Darian gave a weak chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I guess I am."

Darian sipped his milkshake, letting Lila's good-natured ribbing wash over him. When she paused for breath, he took his chance.

"Listen, Lila...there's something I need to tell you." He leaned in, lowering his voice so only she could hear. "I think you should stay in Arbrook a few more days before heading home. Don't leave tomorrow with the others."

Lila's brow furrowed in confusion. "What? Why not?"

Darian glanced around to make sure no one was listening, then continued in an urgent whisper. "There's going to be an attack on Oaksbridge Road and the other roads. Bandits, lying in wait for the students leaving the city. It'll be a slaughter if we don't-"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down!" Lila held up a hand, her eyes wide. "Bandits? An ambush? What are you talking about, Darian? How could you possibly know something like that?"

Darian opened his mouth, then closed it again, floundering. How could he explain? That he'd seen it happen, lived it, died from it? That this was his second chance, a precious opportunity to rewrite a tragedy?

She'd never believe him. No sane person would.

"I...I just do, okay?" he said lamely. "Call it a premonition, or a gut feeling. But I'm telling you, Lila, it's real. And I don't want you or your family getting caught up in it." He reached out, grabbing her hand. "Please. Promise me you'll wait a few days. Until the danger has passed."

Lila stared at him for a long moment, searching his face as if trying to read the truth behind his words. Darian held his breath, silently willing her to trust him, to just this once put aside logic and scepticism and have faith.

Finally, slowly, she nodded. "Okay. Okay, Dar, I'll...I'll talk to Da. See if I can convince him to linger a bit. I still don't understand what's going on, but..." She squeezed his hand, offering a small, confused smile. "I trust you. If you say it's important, then I believe you."

Her cheeks pinked slightly, and she glanced down at their joined hands before gently pulling away. "I'll tell him I want to spend more time with you before we leave. That ought to do the trick."

Darian's heart soared, relief and gratitude welling up inside him so fiercely it almost hurt. "Thank you," he said hoarsely. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

"Yes, well, you owe me one, mister," Lila said, trying for stern and missing by a mile. "A big one. I expect to be treated like a queen these next few days, you hear?"

"Anything you want," Darian promised with a shaky laugh. "It's yours."

They shared a smile, hands still close enough to touch on the table. For a moment, everything else fell away - the din of the tavern, the enormity of what was to come, the secret burning a hole in Darian's chest.

For a moment, it was just the two of them, smiling shyly at each other over the rims of their milk glasses.

Then Darian blinked, shaking himself out of his reverie. He couldn't afford to get distracted, not now. Not when there was still so much to do.

He stood abruptly, the bench scraping against the rushes. "I have to go," he said, an apology in his voice. "There are others I need to warn, people who need to know..."

Kara. He had to find Kara and her father, before it was too late. He couldn't get the image of their broken bodies out of his mind…