As I left the clearing, each step felt heavier than the last, my mind clouded with exhaustion and guilt. The face of the bandit I'd burned haunted me, a charred and twisted memory that lingered, filling me with a sickening dread.

I wanted to tell myself that he'd deserved it, that I'd saved those people, that I'd done something good. But the truth was, I hadn't felt like a savior in that moment. I'd felt powerful, unstoppable, and the flames had answered me, devouring everything in their path.

You see, Luca? Damon's voice echoed through my mind, soft and insidious, wrapping around my thoughts like smoke. The flames are a part of you. They want to be used, to serve their purpose.

"Your purpose, maybe," I muttered, clenching my fists. "But not mine."

But Damon only laughed, his voice a low, mocking sound that filled me with a dark, simmering anger. I kept walking, pushing him back with everything I had, focusing on the quiet crunch of leaves beneath my feet, the cool morning air filling my lungs.

The forest path wound on, twisting and turning until it opened up into a small, quiet village nestled between the trees. It was peaceful, almost hidden, with cottages clustered together and gardens spilling over with wildflowers. A well sat at the center of the village, its water reflecting the soft pink light of dawn. I hesitated at the edge, watching as a few villagers began to stir, moving about their morning routines, oblivious to the darkness that had followed me here.

I could keep moving, put more distance between myself and Valtara, between myself and Sacer. But the ache in my legs and the burning hunger gnawing at my stomach reminded me that I needed rest, food, something to keep me going.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled my hood up, keeping my face hidden as I stepped into the village. I passed by a few villagers, their gazes lingering on me for only a moment before they returned to their tasks. They hadn't seen the flames, hadn't witnessed the power I'd unleashed. To them, I was just another traveler, a stranger passing through.

But as I approached the well, a woman's voice called out to me, soft and cautious. "Excuse me, stranger. Are you all right?"

I turned, my heart pounding, and saw a girl standing a few feet away, her eyes bright and curious. She was around my age, with dark hair pulled back in a messy braid and a simple tunic that looked worn from use. Her gaze was sharp, assessing, as though she were trying to see past the hood, to the person hiding beneath it.

"I'm fine," I said quickly, keeping my voice low. "Just... passing through."

She didn't look convinced. "You look like you've been on the road a while. We don't get many travelers here—especially ones who look like they're running from something."

I felt a prickle of unease at her words, but I forced a calm smile. "Just tired. Nothing to worry about."

The girl tilted her head, her gaze unwavering. "You can come to the tavern, get some food. They don't charge much." She hesitated, then added, "But if you're looking for work, there's always something that needs doing around here. Name's Marei, by the way."

I almost declined, the urge to keep moving pressing down on me, but my stomach growled, reminding me that I didn't have the luxury of pride right now. "Luca," I said finally, giving her a nod. "Thanks for the offer."

She turned, leading the way through the village, and I followed, keeping my gaze down as I walked. I didn't want anyone here to see my face, didn't want to risk them recognizing the red eyes that had condemned me back in Valtara. But Marei didn't seem to notice—or if she did, she didn't care. She moved with a quiet confidence, her steps sure and steady, as though she were familiar with every corner of this village.

She led me to a small, cozy tavern near the edge of the village, its wooden sign swinging gently in the breeze. Inside, the smell of freshly baked bread and roasted meat filled the air, and my stomach twisted with hunger. Marei nodded to the tavern keeper, a large man with a kind face, and he set a plate of food in front of me without a word, giving me a nod as he moved back to the bar.

I ate quickly, the warm food easing some of the tension in my chest, and Marei watched me, her gaze curious and unyielding. I could feel her questions pressing down on me, and I knew she was waiting for me to say something, to explain why I was here, why I looked like I'd been dragged through the forest.

"So," she said finally, leaning forward, her voice low. "What are you running from?"

I tensed, the memories flashing through my mind—the flames, the crowd's terrified faces, Sacer's look of quiet resolve. "It's... complicated," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I just need to keep moving."

Marei didn't look surprised, as though she'd expected my answer. "We get a lot of people like that here," she said quietly, her gaze drifting to the window. "People looking for a fresh start. A place to hide."

Her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning, and I wondered how much she knew, how much she could see. She looked at me again, her eyes sharp and knowing, and for a moment, I felt like she could see right through me, past the hood and the layers of fear and doubt.

"Everyone here has something to hide," she said softly. "So don't worry. Your secrets are safe with me."

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, a faint sense of relief filling me. But even as I relaxed, I could feel Damon's presence stirring, his voice a quiet murmur in my mind, mocking, amused.

Secrets won't save you, Luca, he whispered, his voice filled with dark amusement. You can try to hide, but the truth will find you eventually.

I clenched my fists, fighting to keep his voice down, to drown him out. But he was everywhere, filling every corner of my mind, a dark, insidious presence that refused to leave.

Marei must have noticed the change in my expression, because she placed a hand on my arm, her touch gentle but grounding. "Hey," she said, her voice soft. "You're safe here. Whatever you're running from... it can't hurt you here."

Her words were kind, and I wanted to believe them, I wanted to let myself trust her, if only for a moment. But I knew better. Damon was with me, a shadow that would follow me no matter how far I ran, no matter where I tried to hide.

But Marei didn't pull away. She watched me with a quiet understanding, as though she could sense the battle raging within me, the fear and the darkness that threatened to consume me. And in that moment, I felt a strange kinship with her, a connection that was both comforting and unsettling.

"Thank you," I said finally, my voice barely a whisper. "But I don't think I'm safe anywhere."

Marei's gaze lingered on me for a moment, her dark eyes searching mine as if she was trying to piece together a puzzle. She didn't press further, and I was grateful for that. Instead, she leaned back in her chair and gave a faint, almost sad smile.

"Nobody's truly safe," she said, her voice low. "But sometimes, you find places that feel safe enough for a while. This village... it's one of those places." She glanced out the window, watching as a pair of children chased each other around the well, their laughter carrying through the quiet morning air. "At least, it is for now."

Her words struck me, an uneasy reminder that peace was fleeting. But for these people, for Marei, it was something they fought to hold onto. And here I was, a walking storm, threatening to shatter it just by being here.

The thought made my stomach twist, the guilt creeping back in. "I don't want to bring trouble here," I said, my voice firmer this time. "If staying puts the village at risk, I'll leave."

Marei's smile widened slightly, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "You sound like a lot of people who've come through here. But the thing about trouble is, it usually finds us anyway, whether we're ready for it or not." She leaned forward again, her tone more serious now. "What matters is how we face it. And something tells me you've faced your fair share."

I wanted to deny it, to tell her she was wrong. But the weight of Damon's voice in my mind, the memories of the flames, the faces of those I'd hurt—it was all too much to deny. I nodded once, unable to meet her gaze.

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She didn't push further. Instead, she stood, brushing her hands off on her tunic. "Well, if you're set on leaving soon, you should at least rest while you can. There's a spare bed in the back. I'll talk to the tavern keeper. He won't mind."

I opened my mouth to protest, but the exhaustion weighed me down too much to argue. "Thank you," I said, the words feeling strange on my tongue.

Marei shrugged as if it were no big deal. "It's what we do here—help each other out. Just don't burn the place down while you're resting, okay?"

Her tone was light, almost teasing, but I froze, my breath catching in my throat. Did she know? I searched her face for any hint of suspicion, but all I saw was a playful smirk. She didn't know. She couldn't know.

I forced a weak laugh, nodding as I stood. "I'll try to keep that in mind."

As I made my way to the back room, the sounds of the tavern faded behind me. The small room Marei had mentioned was plain but clean, with a simple bed pushed against one wall and a small window that let in the soft morning light. I sat on the edge of the bed, my shoulders slumping as the weight of the past few days pressed down on me.

For a moment, I let myself close my eyes, hoping for a brief reprieve. But Damon's voice returned, sharper now, his laughter echoing through my thoughts.

She's kind, isn't she? he mused, his tone dripping with mockery. The kind ones are always the easiest to hurt, Luca. You should know that.

I gritted my teeth, pressing my palms against my temples as if I could physically push him out. "Get out of my head," I hissed, my voice trembling.

You can't escape me, Luca, Damon whispered, his voice a sinister caress. I am you. And no matter how far you run, no matter how hard you fight... you'll always come back to the flames.

I slammed my fist into the wall, the pain grounding me, if only for a moment. The room fell silent again, save for the soft rustling of the wind outside. I took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady myself.

Marei's words echoed in my mind: You're safe here.

And with those words, I finally felt something that had been completely absent from my mind for the past few days.

It was hope.

—

The morning came slowly, the first rays of sunlight spilling through the small window and warming the wooden floorboards of the room. I stirred, my body aching from the tension I hadn't fully released even in sleep. My dreams had been merciless—a haze of flames, screams, and Damon's voice weaving through it all. But for once, I woke up with no immediate danger at my heels.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes and running a hand through my hair, still damp with sweat. For a moment, I let myself take in the quiet around me: the faint hum of villagers starting their day, the clinking of dishes in the tavern beyond the door, and the soft breeze whispering through the trees outside.

This was peace. At least, as close as I could get to it.

Enjoy it while it lasts, Luca, he murmured, his tone almost bored. You know it won't.

I ignored him, pushing myself off the bed and splashing some water on my face from the small basin by the window. The cold water was refreshing, helping me ground myself. I needed to focus—if I stayed here too long, it would only be a matter of time before my presence attracted the wrong kind of attention.

But as I stepped into the main room of the tavern, Marei was already waiting for me. She leaned against the bar, a small loaf of bread and a wedge of cheese wrapped in cloth in her hands. When she saw me, she smiled—genuine, warm. The kind of smile I didn't deserve.

"Thought you might need this," she said, holding out the bundle. "It's not much, but it'll keep you going."

I hesitated, guilt twisting in my chest. "I... I can't—"

"Take it," she said firmly, cutting me off. "We've got plenty to spare. Besides, I already told you—we help each other out here."

I took the bundle, the warmth of her kindness almost unbearable. "Thank you," I said quietly, the words feeling too small for what I owed her.

She nodded, crossing her arms as she studied me. "So, what's your plan? You said you're moving on, but... if you're not in a hurry, there's a market in the village square today. You could use the crowd as cover, maybe barter for a few supplies."

The idea was sound, but the thought of lingering—of exposing myself to more people—made my stomach churn. I shifted uncomfortably, glancing toward the door. "I'll think about it," I said, evading her gaze. "I should probably get going before—"

Before what? Before I burned this village to the ground? Before Sacer found me? Before Damon whispered something I couldn't ignore?

Marei's expression softened, as if she could sense the storm in my mind. "You don't have to tell me everything," she said gently. "But if you need help, if you need someone to talk to... I'm here."

Her words caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn't know how to respond. She didn't pity me—there was no condescension in her tone, no prying. Just understanding. And that scared me more than anything.

"Thanks," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm fine."

She didn't push, only nodded. "Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me."

I left the tavern a few minutes later, the bundle of food tucked under my arm and my hood pulled low. The village was alive now, the square bustling with activity as merchants set up their stalls and villagers exchanged greetings. The air was thick with the smell of freshly baked bread, ripe fruit, and earthy herbs.

I kept to the edges, avoiding eye contact and staying out of sight as much as possible. But even as I moved, I couldn't shake the feeling of eyes on me. My paranoia clawed at me, every sound and shadow feeling like a threat.

And then I saw him.

A figure at the edge of the square, cloaked and hooded like me, but unmistakable. His stance was too familiar, his movements too deliberate. My heart stopped as I caught a glimpse of white hair beneath the hood, and the memories came rushing back—the flames, the sword, his voice calling my name.

Sacer.

Panic surged through me, but I forced myself to stay calm, ducking behind a stall and slipping into the narrow alleyway between two cottages. My mind raced, every instinct screaming at me to run, to put as much distance between us as possible.

But Damon's voice was calm, almost amused. He's found you, Luca. You knew this would happen.

"No," I whispered, my breath coming in short gasps. "He can't be here."

Oh, but he is, Damon said, his tone dark and velvety. And you know what he wants.

I pressed myself against the wall, my heart hammering in my chest. Marei's words echoed in my mind: You're safe here. But she'd been wrong. Nowhere was safe—not for me, not for the people around me. And if Sacer was here…

I clenched my fists, the heat of the flames stirring just beneath my skin. I couldn't let them out. Not here. Not now. But if it came down to it…

No.

The thought of facing him again was unbearable. But deep down, I knew there was no escaping him forever. Sacer wouldn't stop. And neither would Damon.

The sound of hurried footsteps broke through my panic, and I turned to see Marei slipping into the alley. Her sharp eyes locked on mine, her expression calm but urgent.

"You're pale as a ghost," she said, keeping her voice low. "Who is it?"

I hesitated, my words catching in my throat. If I told her the truth—if I told her it was my brother, the so-called Hero sent to kill me—she'd throw me out. Or worse, turn me over to him. But something in her gaze made me falter. She hadn't pried before, hadn't judged me, even when she could have.

"A...someone I can't let find me," I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper.

She studied me for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she nodded. "Come on."

Without waiting for me to argue, she grabbed my wrist and led me deeper into the alley. We weaved through narrow paths, slipping past fences and behind buildings until we reached the back of a small storage shed tucked at the edge of the village. She pushed the door open and gestured for me to step inside.

"Stay here," she said firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument. "Don't make a sound, and don't leave until I come back. Got it?"

I swallowed hard, nodding. "Why are you helping me?"

Marei paused, her hand on the doorframe. For the first time, her confident facade cracked, and I caught a glimpse of something raw and vulnerable in her expression. "Because I know what it's like to need help and not have anyone to turn to. Now stay put."

Before I could respond, she slipped out, closing the door behind her. The room was dark, the faint scent of dried herbs and wood filling the air. I crouched low, my heart pounding in my chest as I strained to hear what was happening outside.

Minutes felt like hours as I waited, every creak of the shed and distant voice outside setting my nerves on edge. Finally, the door creaked open again, and Marei slipped inside, her face tight with worry but her steps calm and measured.

"He's gone," she said softly, leaning against the wall and letting out a breath. "Your friend—or whoever he is—was asking about a traveler matching your description. I told him you passed through yesterday, heading west."

Relief and guilt warred within me. "He's not my friend," I said, my voice hoarse. "And if he comes back—"

"He won't," she interrupted, her tone firm. "Not for a while, at least. But you're not going anywhere just yet."

"What?" I stared at her, confused. "I have to leave. If he's looking for me—"

"And what happens when he finds you again?" she countered, crossing her arms. "You're exhausted, Luca. You're starving, and you're running yourself into the ground. If you keep this up, you won't last another week."

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words died in my throat. She wasn't wrong. The past week had been a blur of running, hiding, and barely surviving. Every day felt like a battle just to keep moving.

"I can't stay," I said finally, the weight of the truth settling over me. "I'll put the village in danger."

"You didn't hear me the first time, did you?" Marei said, her gaze sharp. "Trouble finds us whether we want it or not. You're not the first person to bring it here, and you won't be the last. But if you leave like this, you're just giving him exactly what he wants—a weak, tired target. Stay, rest, and figure out your next move. Then leave when you're ready."

Her words struck something deep in me, an ache I hadn't realized I'd been carrying. The idea of staying—of letting myself rest—felt both terrifying and tempting. But could I really afford to trust her? Could I afford not to?

I looked away, my fists clenching at my sides. "Why do you care so much?"

Marei's expression softened, and she crouched in front of me, her voice quiet but steady. "Because I see someone who's hurting, someone who's running from something they can't face alone. And I'm not going to let you throw yourself to the wolves because you think you have to do it all on your own."

The silence between us stretched, her words hanging in the air like a lifeline. Finally, I nodded, the fight draining out of me. "Okay," I said softly. "I'll stay. For now."

Marei smiled, the tension in her shoulders easing. "Good. Come on. Let's get you somewhere better than this shed."