The first hour on the road was spent in dead silence.

All that could be heard was the rustling of the leaves and the rhythmic steps of the hooves of their steeds.

Faelan rode slightly behind Nym, his face a black slate without emotion.

He broke the silence with a loud sigh.

"I didn't kill that spy. I questioned her, but she refused to answer. She tried to get free, I tackled her, and she broke her neck. It was an accident."

Nym stayed silent.

"I'm also not a scholar, as you may have guessed by now."

A scoff escaped Nym's throat.

"Really? I would have never thought so..."

Nym looked over with an angry face.

"Well... I'm also not, not a scholar. I-I'm getting off-topic. Allow me to reintroduce myself. My name is Faelan Orion, son of Talvar Orion, second heir to Orion's Keep and next in line for master of the House of Ashes. I am an assassin on a mission to kill the Sorcerer king of Terr'Grenn."

Nym's features remained hardened. "So you're a liar and a murderer. You're a criminal, no matter how many titles you hold or what your heritage is. What other lies have you fed me?"

Faelan's face also remained unchanged, but anger was starting to rise to the surface.

Keep your cool, Faelan. You need her on your side to get through the border. He reminded himself.

"I never spoke a single lie to you. I merely withheld crucial information to prevent you from seeing the complete picture. For your information—an assassin's job is technically legal in Ecrana. As well as in Grenn. It is severely frowned upon, yes, and will be twisted into a case of murder if you're caught in the act, resulting in either imprisonment or even execution. But if you are careful, and they only find out it was you a couple of days later, they can't do anything."

"Get to the point. You're neither in Ecrana nor Terr'Grenn."

"My point is that I have done nothing wrong, nor have I done you any harm."

"You lied to me."

Faelan rolled his eyes.

"Right... Because we are lifelong friends who have entrusted all our secrets to each other. Aren't you over a century old? Grow up. People lie, they trick, and they deceive. Life isn't fair, and it will never be."

Sarcasm and annoyance dripped from his words like a snake's venom from its fangs.

Nym seemed taken aback by his sudden hostility, but she stood her ground.

She held in her horse till they rode beside each other.

"Do you think I will just let you leave Terr'Alveran? You admitted to being a murderer on his way to assassinate one of the realm's most important figures."

"I'm on a mission to change the world. You call me a murderer, yet you fail to question why I kill."

Finally, Nym snapped.

"Fine then! Tell me! Why do you kill?—you silver-tongued, lying piece of Fae shit!"

Fealan seemed unfazed by the insult. He chose his words carefully as he answered, trying to keep calm.

"I kill to make this world a better place for those powerless to change it themselves. The Brotherhood doesn't just kill for anyone, no matter how much they offer us. We first reflect on how our actions would impact the world and whether that impact would be positive over the situation before."

Nym opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again, her face easing slightly. She was quiet for a few seconds, then spoke again.

"No matter the purpose, it's still murder."

Her voice was firm but didn't sound as certain as before.

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Faelan looked at her, an eyebrow raised.

"Tell me, Nym Arwen—in your full one-hundred and thirty-six years, how often have you encountered death?"

Nym shifted uncomfortably. "Never."

She paused. "Why are you asking me this?"

Faelan held up a hand.

"I'll get to that. I encountered death for the first time when I was five. It was a matter of survival. I-"

He took a deep breath.|

"I- I can remember every single face of my victims. I don't take life lightly, and with every life I take, I know my own is tainted till the end of time."

"How many?"

"One-hundred and twenty-seven Marks. Seventeen innocent. One-hundred and forty-four in total."

There was no hesitation, not a second of having to think about it. His face was a mask of nothingness, a blank slate devoid of all emotion.

But underneath hung a heavy burden of sadness and guilt. It clawed at his heart, weighing it down with every passing day.

Let the past be the past, and look forward to a brighter tomorrow. Let the fire that we light give you clarity on your path ahead. All things must eventually end for new things to flourish. Nothing lasts eternally. Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust.

He reminded himself of this oath, fortifying his resolve, and looked Nym in the eyes.

She looked at him in shock.

All she could manage was incoherent words, too stunned to speak.

"And now I'm on a suicide mission to free an entire country from a mad tyrant and to prevent a brewing war, with no hope to survive. I've given up everything for this! So... tell me, who are you to judge me for my actions if you don't have a singular snippet of experience with death or hardship yourself?!"

His words were laced with a mixture of anger, sadness and regret.

Finally, his mask of emptiness shattered as he fully comprehended his situation. Deep down, he knew he stood no chance against a force of nature like Avery Fanor. But something had compelled him to throw away his entire life in pursuit of an impossible goal. He knew he could back out, but something inside him said the road he was on was the only way forward. All of this because of a stupid dream.

The world around him blurred through the water welling in his eyes. He cursed at himself mentally.

Show no weakness.

A single tear crawled down his cheek before he again steeled his nerves and raised his emotional walls. He whipped away the droplet and turned his attention back to the road.

Silence fell again, no sound but the wind and their breathing. The horses walk on at a steady pace.

==================

Moments went on before Nym broke the silence again.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't—I- You must understand where I was coming from. I have sworn an oath to justice. To protect all living things. But that doesn't put me in a position to judge you. I can see you're a good person. But please... please understand."

Faelan looked at his travelling companion.

"I do understand. You are completely within reason to react the way you did. Anyone else would have done the same. I offer you my apologies for the way I acted towards you. If you wish to part ways with me, I wouldn't hold it against you."

He bowed his head, appearing sincere.

Nym sighed. She seemed to weigh several decisions in her mind.

Then she groaned. "I'm so going to regret this."

"I, Nym Arwen, Daughter of Alakin Arwen, hereby give you my blade as a token of trust."

She drew her dagger and moved her horse closer to his so he could take it.

Faelan raised an eyebrow in confusion.

She smiled. "This is the part where you take it and return the favour. It's symbolic."

A soft "Ah" escaped his lips.

He flicked his wrist, and Skótos appeared in his hand with a short flash of light.

Her eyes widened at this, but she went ahead and reached for it.

"Let this exchange of blades be a symbol of our alliance."

Faelan was a little hesitant to let go of the grip. He knew he could summon it with a flick of the wrist, but it felt wrong to hand over his weapon.

"Aye, let it be so." He answered, letting go of the dagger's grip.

Nym visibly relaxed.

"Right." She let out the breath she had been holding unknowingly. "Starting with a blank slate." She flipped Skótos, caught it by the tip and held it out for him. "The exchange is only symbolic. Here. I'd hate to separate such a fine blade from its counterpart. It's too balanced to be human-forged. Elven?"

Faelan took the dagger and handed Nym her own. "Dwarvish. No offence, but elven blades are too ornamental to be practical."

Nym chuckled. "No offence taken. You're right. That's why I prefer a spear over a sword. It takes years to get used to all those unnecessary curves and embezzlements."

She hesitated. "About yesterday... I've been wondering. Every evening you sit down and do... whatever you do then. And after you're done you look like you're about to keel over and die. Is it some form of Fae magic? Because every time you do it, a tingling feeling spreads over me. And you know... the Fae are known for... well—you know..."

She trailed off, her voice falling quiet.

It took Faelan a moment to process what she was trying to say. Then he burst out laughing as the realization hit him.

Nym looked a little taken aback by this, but Faelan kept laughing. His raspy laugh carried through the forest. It felt good to laugh after such a tense situation. Relief washed over him as his laughter turned into chuckles and further devolved into a fit of giggles. He, the taught half-Fae assassin, giggled like a little boy.

Nym gave him an odd look but didn't say anything. Once he had finally calmed down, he wiped a tear from his eyes.

"Oh, that's good. That—I—oh, Ancients, I needed that."

He took a deep breath and steadied himself again, regaining his composure.

"It's nothing like that. Every evening I set up protective Weaves. But due to my cursed fae nature, it takes quite a toll on me."

Nym raised an eyebrow.

Faelan mimicked the movement, then sighed. "Please tell me you know the basics about Weaving."

Nym shook her head.

"Is it like sorcery?"

Faelans shoulders slumped. "How much do you want to know? Because I can just skim through the basics."

He saw Nym's eyes light up at the idea of learning new things. She furiously shook her head.

"Tell me everything you know."

"Very well. at least we'll have something to talk about the next couple of days."