The early morning sky hung low over Emberfall, casting long shadows across the worn cobblestone streets. The air was cool, a rare reprieve from the heat that often suffocated the desert-adjacent city. Selene moved quietly through the streets, her boots crunching softly beneath her. Her mind was focused, but a strange sense of unease twisted in her chest. The caravan was preparing to leave for Windmere, a city she barely knew, but one that held her future—her redemption.

Paola’s note had been folded neatly in her pocket since she’d first read it, the words looping through her mind ever since. Paola had forgiven her. The idea was foreign to Selene, almost ridiculous. Her entire life had been one of survival, of doing what needed to be done, and that didn’t often leave room for forgiveness. But Paola… Paola was different. Her understanding, her willingness to give Selene a second chance, was something she hadn’t expected.

But while Paola’s forgiveness was a gift, it was not without its complications. Poca didn’t trust her. That wound still stung in ways Selene wasn’t prepared to admit, but it wasn’t surprising. People didn’t trust demons, and after what Selene had done, she couldn’t blame Poca for it. That was something she’d have to live with. Windmere was her shot to make things right, not just with Paola but with herself.

As she approached the caravan assembly area, Selene couldn’t shake the sense of loss that had settled over her. The Beaststorm had been brutal, separating her from her team—Thrix, Nathor, the River Lurkers. Everyone scattered, fighting to survive the storm and the sand beasts within it. She had fought her way through, but when she made it out, Thrix was gone. She had searched for him, convinced he had survived, but after days with no word, Selene had begun to accept the worst.

Thrix was dead.

Or so she thought.

As Selene reached the caravan, she stopped dead in her tracks. The wagons stretched out before her, loaded with goods and surrounded by mercenaries, traders, and travelers preparing for the long journey through the Sand Pass. It was larger than she expected, but none of that mattered.

Because there, leaning against one of the wagons, his once-grand form battered and broken, was Thrix.

Selene’s breath caught in her throat. Her heart pounded, not out of fear but something closer to disbelief. She had resigned herself to the idea that he was gone, that the storm had taken him. And yet, there he was, alive. Barely.

She took a step forward, her body moving before her mind could catch up. Thrix looked… terrible. His exoskeleton, once so pristine and polished, was cracked and missing in large chunks. His limbs were gone, and the two eyes that still remained on his damaged face flicked slowly toward her, as if the effort to even look up was taxing.

For a moment, Selene stood frozen, her tough exterior cracking just enough for raw emotion to bubble to the surface. She had seen death, she had caused it countless times, but the thought of losing Thrix—her only real friend in this twisted, chaotic world—had been more than she could handle. And now, seeing him alive, a flood of relief surged through her.

Without thinking, she closed the distance between them in a few quick strides. Thrix saw her coming, but before he could speak, Selene threw her arms around him, pulling him into a fierce, almost desperate embrace. Her mithralite fingers dug into the cracked surface of his exoskeleton, but she didn’t care. He was alive.

“Thrix,” she muttered, her voice rough with emotion she hadn’t expected. “I thought—” Her words caught in her throat, and she let the sentence hang, unable to finish it.

Thrix, caught off guard by the sudden display of affection, clicked his remaining mandibles in surprise. His weak limbs attempted to return the embrace, though they barely made it halfway around her. “Selene…” His voice was faint, weak, but it still held that familiar edge of dry humor. “You’re crushing me.”

Selene blinked, pulling back slightly, her tough exterior snapping back into place almost immediately. “Don’t be dramatic,” she muttered, stepping back and crossing her arms over her chest. She still kept one hand on his shoulder, though, as if making sure he wouldn’t disappear.

Thrix chuckled softly, though it came out more as a wheeze. “Well, I didn’t expect that kind of welcome.”

“You’re lucky you’re getting any welcome at all,” Selene shot back, her voice sharp but not unkind. Her purple eyes, with their unnerving white irises, scanned him more carefully now, taking in the full extent of the damage. He was in bad shape, worse than she’d imagined. His exoskeleton was practically in ruins, his limbs gone, and his eyes… She swallowed hard. “What the hell happened to you?”

Thrix let out a long sigh, leaning heavily against the wagon for support. “The storm happened. Lost track of you all when it hit. Then there were the sand beasts… It wasn’t exactly the best day.”

Selene frowned, her jaw tightening. She had been in the thick of it too, but she had come out relatively unscathed. Thrix, on the other hand, looked like he had barely survived. “Why didn’t you send word? I thought you were dead.”

“I nearly was,” Thrix admitted, his voice softer now. “But… I got lucky. Someone found me. Ayla.”

“Ayla?” Selene’s eyebrows shot up, her mind immediately recalling the blonde Sword Maiden who had fought by Paola’s side during the battle. She had seen the way Paola and Ayla had fought together, the way they had comforted each other after. It was clear they were more than just allies. “Paola’s girlfriend?”

Thrix nodded. “Yes. She found me after the storm. I… I wouldn’t have made it without her.”

Selene was silent for a moment, her mind processing the information. Ayla had saved him. That explained a lot, but it also made things more complicated. She didn’t owe Ayla anything, but knowing that the woman had saved her friend’s life… She clenched her fists at her sides, a mixture of gratitude and frustration churning within her.

“Well,” she said finally, her voice gruff, “I guess I owe her one.”

Thrix smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach his damaged eyes. “I think we all do.”

The weight of the situation hung between them for a moment, the reality of their separation and the chaos of the past days settling over them like a thick fog. But Selene wasn’t one to dwell on sentimentality for long. She had a job to do, and they had a caravan to catch.

“I took a job,” Selene said, breaking the silence. “Mercenary work. I’m protecting this caravan to Windmere.”

Thrix’s remaining eyes widened slightly. “You? A mercenary?”

Selene shrugged, her mithralite fingers tapping rhythmically against her thigh. “Seemed like the easiest way to get a ride. Plus, it pays.”

Thrix chuckled again, though it was weaker this time. “Always pragmatic.”

“Someone has to be,” Selene muttered, though there was a hint of a smile on her lips. She glanced around at the bustling caravan preparations, the workers loading crates, the mercenaries checking their gear, and the caravan master barking orders. “And you? I take it you’re heading to Windmere too?”

Thrix nodded, his mandibles clicking softly. “Figured it was time for a fresh start. Emberfall’s too dangerous for me now, especially in this state.”

Selene looked him over again, her eyes narrowing. “You’re not in fighting shape, that’s for sure. But you’re coming with me. I’m not letting you get killed before you even make it to Windmere.”

Thrix smiled faintly, though there was a touch of sadness in his expression. “I appreciate the concern, Selene, but I’m not exactly the same merchant you used to know. I’ve lost a lot.”

“So have I,” Selene replied, her voice hardening. “But you’re still here. That’s more than I can say for most.”

Thrix regarded her quietly, his mandibles twitching as if he wanted to say something more, but he held back. Instead, he gave a slow nod. “I suppose you’re right.”

They stood there in silence for a few more moments, the sounds of the caravan preparations continuing around them. Selene felt the familiar weight of the world pressing down on her shoulders, but for the first time in days, it felt a little lighter. Thrix was alive. That was a victory in itself.

“Well,” Selene said finally, straightening up and adjusting her combat gear. “Let’s get going. We’ve got a long road ahead.”

Thrix pushed off the wagon with what little strength he had left, his limbs creaking under the effort. “Lead the way.”

As they made their way toward the lead wagon, Selene couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of purpose settling over her. The road ahead was dangerous, the journey through the Sand Pass would be treacherous, but she wasn’t facing it alone. Thrix was by her side, alive and kicking—well, sort of—and that was enough for now.

As they approached the caravan master, the grizzled man looked up from his ledger, his scarred face hardening slightly as his gaze fell on Selene and Thrix. He didn’t say anything at first, his eyes lingering on Thrix’s damaged form before turning back to Selene.

“You with the mercenaries?” the caravan master asked, his voice rough and gravelly.

Selene nodded. “I’m with the protection detail.”

The man grunted, glancing at Thrix again. “And him?”

“Passenger,” Selene said firmly, her voice brooking no argument. “He’s coming with me.”

The caravan master’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he seemed to sense the finality in her words. He gave a curt nod, scribbling something in his ledger. “Fine. Just don’t cause any trouble.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Selene muttered, though the slight smirk on her lips suggested otherwise.

The caravan master, a grizzled man with a voice like gravel and a permanent scowl etched into his weathered face, turned away from Selene and Thrix, his attention shifting back to the bustling preparation of the caravan. Wagons creaked as they were loaded with crates of goods, while the mercenaries and travelers moved about, some checking weapons, others making sure their gear was ready for the long journey ahead.

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“Alright, listen up!” the caravan master barked, his voice carrying over the noise. “Guards, you’ll be split into sectors. I want eyes on all sides at all times. We’re not taking any chances, not with the bandits in the Sand Pass.”

Selene straightened up, her arms crossed over her chest as she waited for her assignment. She cast a quick glance at Thrix, who was leaning heavily against a wagon, his damaged form looking more frail in the morning light. He’d make it through, though. She’d make sure of that.

“Southwest quadrant!” the caravan master continued, pointing toward a section of the caravan. “You’re with Edwin. You’re to keep an eye on that side and make sure nothing sneaks up on us.”

Selene’s sharp purple eyes flicked in the direction of the caravan master’s gesture. A gruff-looking man was already there, leaning on a spear, his shield slung across his back. He had a thick beard, streaked with grey, and his posture was relaxed, as though this whole operation was just a mild inconvenience rather than a dangerous trek through bandit territory.

Edwin, she assumed.

She gave Thrix one last look, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Stay safe,” she muttered, and Thrix gave her a weak smile, his mandibles clicking faintly as he settled himself near the supplies, clearly in no position to argue or offer any words of reassurance.

As Selene made her way to the southwest side of the caravan, she approached Edwin, who raised an eyebrow as she neared but said nothing. His eyes flicked briefly to her horns, the faint glow at the tips betraying her Void affinity, but his face remained neutral. He didn’t recoil, didn’t sneer, didn’t treat her with the suspicion most people reserved for demons. He simply nodded.

“Selene, right?” Edwin’s voice was calm, with a kind of quiet strength to it.

Selene nodded, surprised by his lack of reaction. “Yeah. You’re Edwin?”

“That’s me,” he replied, shifting his weight and adjusting the shield on his back. “Caravan master says we’re on southwest duty. Guess that means we’re looking out for any trouble coming from that direction.”

Selene scanned the horizon, the endless stretch of desert that framed the road ahead. The sun was already climbing higher, casting a golden light over the dunes. “You think we’ll see any trouble?”

Edwin shrugged, his expression calm, almost casual. “With my luck, probably. But,” he added with a slight smile, “I’m hoping for an easy ride. I’ve got my family waiting for me in Windmere.”

The way he said it was simple, no grand declarations, just the quiet hope of a man eager to return to the life he left behind. Selene wasn’t used to that kind of talk. She’d seen so much of the worst in people—betrayal, cruelty, violence—that hearing someone talk about family, about something as ordinary as wanting to get home, caught her off guard.

“Family, huh?” Selene replied, her voice guarded, though not unkind. “How long have they been in Windmere?”

“Almost a year now,” Edwin said, leaning on his spear as he spoke. “I took this job for the free passage. Guard duty gets you a spot in the caravan without having to pay the fare. But I’ll be honest, I’m not much for adventure. Just want to get back to my wife and kids. They moved out there when things got rough in Emberfall.”

Selene studied him for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who sought out danger or fought for glory. He had a different kind of strength—a quiet resolve that came from protecting what mattered. In some ways, it was something she could respect.

“Seems like an easy enough plan,” she said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “Just hope those bandits don’t get in the way.”

Edwin chuckled softly, though it was more a sound of acknowledgment than amusement. “Yeah, well. Bandits don’t usually care much about a man’s plans. That’s why we’re here, I guess. To make sure they don’t get too bold.”

Selene nodded, feeling a strange sense of camaraderie with the man already. He wasn’t trying to prove anything. He wasn’t treating her like an enemy or an outsider, which was more than she could say for most people. Demons weren’t exactly popular anywhere outside Valarian, and she was used to the hostility, the mistrust. But Edwin? He looked past all that. He treated her like an equal, and that was something rare.

The day wore on, the caravan rumbling slowly along the dusty road. Selene and Edwin kept their pace steady on the southwest side, their eyes scanning the dunes for any signs of movement. The sun beat down relentlessly, but neither of them complained. They simply did their job, watching, waiting.

Occasionally, Edwin would make a quiet comment, usually something dryly humorous about the heat or the relentless pace of the caravan. His humor was subtle, the kind that crept up on you rather than slapped you in the face. Selene found herself appreciating that. It was a welcome distraction from the constant edge she usually felt during jobs like this.

“You ever miss Valarian?” Edwin asked at one point, his voice low as they walked side by side.

Selene glanced at him, her expression unreadable. “Not really,” she said, shrugging. “Too many memories. Too many people who’d rather see me dead.”

Edwin looked at her for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. I get that.”

The simplicity of his response caught Selene off guard. He didn’t press her, didn’t pry into her past or ask why people would want her dead. He just accepted it, like it was part of her story and nothing more.

“You ever been to Windmere?” Selene asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.

“Once,” Edwin replied, adjusting his grip on his spear. “A long time ago. It’s a good city, though. My family’s safe there, and that’s all that matters.”

Selene nodded. She didn’t have a family waiting for her anywhere. She barely had friends. Paola, maybe. Thrix, of course. But hearing Edwin talk about his family, about how much they meant to him, made her wonder what that kind of life would be like. To have something to protect, something that grounded you.

They kept walking, the sun sinking lower in the sky as the day dragged on. They didn’t talk much, but the silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that came from two people who understood the weight of their responsibilities, who didn’t need to fill the space with meaningless chatter.

As night fell, the caravan slowed to a halt, the workers and travelers setting up camp for the evening. Selene and Edwin were assigned to the first watch, patrolling the perimeter while the others rested. The firelight flickered in the distance as the caravan settled into the night, and the desert air cooled, a welcome relief from the heat of the day.

The desert night crept in with a cooling breeze, the last of the sunlight sinking beneath the horizon, casting long shadows over the dunes. Selene walked alongside Edwin, the rhythmic crunch of sand under their boots the only sound accompanying the quiet crackling of the fires from the camp behind them. The caravan had settled for the night, but the watch had to be maintained. The Sand Pass wasn’t forgiving, especially with the recent rise in bandit activity.

Edwin adjusted his shield, the leather straps creaking faintly as he tightened them. “This place always gets colder at night than I expect,” he muttered, his tone more thoughtful than complaining.

Selene glanced at him, her purple eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. "You've lived in Emberfall, haven't you? I'd think you'd be used to the extremes by now."

Edwin smirked, his beard shifting slightly as he gave a small shrug. "Emberfall has its moments, but it’s nothing like the Pass. We get sandstorms, sure, but not this bone-deep kind of cold. I guess Windmere will be a welcome change of pace."

"Windmere," Selene repeated, her voice quieter. "What’s it like? I’ve heard the stories, but I’ve never been."

Edwin’s face softened as he looked out at the horizon, his thoughts turning to the coastal city. "It’s a far cry from Emberfall, that’s for sure. Lots of green. Lush plains, though not quite the rainforests you hear about further east. There’s a breeze from the ocean that makes the air smell… fresh, you know? It’s hard to explain, but it’s like the whole place feels alive."

Selene nodded, though the description was foreign to her. Valarian, her home, was far more hostile. The towering cliffs, the red sands, the constant struggle to survive—it had shaped her. Windmere sounded like a different world entirely. “You ever think about going back to Emberfall?” she asked, more to keep the conversation going than out of genuine curiosity.

Edwin chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Nah. My family’s in Windmere now. Once I get there, that’s it. I’m done wandering. Just want to spend time with my kids, maybe start working on something steady, like carpentry or fishing. Guard work is fine, but it’s hard to build a future when every job could be your last."

"Kids, huh?" Selene’s voice was distant, as though she was trying to imagine a life like that. "How old are they?"

“Two boys. Seven and nine,” Edwin said, his voice brightening with pride. "They’re a handful, but good kids. Smart, too. I left them with their mother when things got rough in Emberfall. Just been waiting for a chance to get back to them."

Selene remained silent for a moment, the image of a simple life, of family and children, feeling almost alien to her. She wasn’t the kind of person who thought about settling down, about having something stable. But hearing Edwin talk about it, about the things that mattered to him, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of something—envy, maybe? Or perhaps just the realization that such a life would never be hers.

"Must be nice," she said finally, her tone neutral but edged with something she couldn’t quite define.

Edwin, perceptive in his quiet way, glanced at her. He didn’t pry, didn’t ask about her past or why she sounded so distant. Instead, he smiled faintly, his voice lowering. “It’s not for everyone. But it’s what keeps me going, you know? When you’ve got something to protect, it makes the hard days a little easier.”

Selene’s eyes flicked to him, surprised by the depth of his words. She wasn’t used to people like Edwin—simple, genuine, and entirely unbothered by who or what she was. Most people saw the demon in her and never looked past it. But Edwin treated her like… like she was just another guard, another person trying to make it through the Pass. She appreciated that more than she’d let on.

“You’re different, you know that?” she said after a moment, her voice quieter than before.

Edwin raised an eyebrow, giving her a sidelong glance. "Different? How so?"

Selene shrugged, her black horns catching the faint light from the campfires. "Most people, they see me and they start treating me like I’m about to tear their throat out. But you—" she paused, searching for the right words. "You don’t care. You just… see me, I guess."

Edwin’s smile widened slightly. "I’ve seen a lot of things on the road. Some of them scarier than a demon with horns. You’re just another person trying to survive, right? Besides, you’re here to guard the caravan, same as me. That’s good enough for me."

The words settled over her, warming her in a way she hadn’t expected. She wasn’t used to kindness, especially not from humans. Valarian had made her hard, made her expect betrayal and cruelty at every turn. But Edwin’s quiet acceptance was a reminder that not everyone in this world was out to hurt her. Some people were just trying to make it through, like she was.

They continued their patrol in comfortable silence, the sounds of the caravan fading into the background as the night stretched on. Occasionally, Edwin would crack a dry joke about the stars or the endless sand, and Selene would smirk, appreciating his quiet sense of humor.

“You think Thrix is going to make it to Windmere?” Edwin asked after a while, his tone light but curious.

Selene exhaled slowly, glancing back toward the caravan where Thrix was resting. “He’ll make it. He’s tougher than he looks, even now. Plus, I owe him. I won’t let him go down without a fight.”

Edwin nodded, his eyes scanning the horizon. “That’s the spirit. Seems like you two go way back.”

“Yeah,” Selene said, her voice softening for a moment. “He’s one of the only people who didn’t turn on me when it mattered. That’s rare.”

They continued talking as the night wore on, sharing stories—mostly Edwin’s about his family and his adventures in Emberfall. He was a man who had seen enough of the world to know its dangers, but his heart was set on something simpler. It was a perspective Selene didn’t often encounter, and she found herself oddly drawn to it. For the first time in a long while, she felt like she wasn’t alone out here.

By the time dawn broke the next day, Selene and Edwin had settled into a rhythm. Their patrols were efficient, their banter light, and the caravan moved steadily through the desert. As the Sand Pass stretched before them, the landscape began to change, the dry, sandy expanse giving way to patches of scrub and grass, the air growing more humid as they neared Windmere.

They passed through the day much like they had the previous night, exchanging words here and there, but mostly keeping an eye on the horizon. The closer they got to Windmere, the more the caravan seemed to relax. The threat of bandits was still present, but with the change in scenery came a sense of relief. They were leaving the harsh desert behind, and Windmere was within reach.

Edwin wiped the sweat from his brow, the late afternoon sun casting a golden hue over the fields they now crossed. “Almost there,” he said, his voice carrying a note of anticipation. “Won’t be long now.”

Selene nodded, her eyes scanning the horizon. The grasslands ahead of them were peaceful, the soft breeze rustling the leaves, a stark contrast to the harshness of the Sand Pass. She could almost feel the tension lifting, the weight of the journey lightening as they drew closer to their destination.

And then, in an instant, everything changed.

It started with a single arrow whistling through the air, striking one of the lead guards in the chest. He staggered back, a gasp escaping his lips as he collapsed to the ground.

Selene’s eyes widened, her body tensing. “Ambush!” she shouted, her voice cutting through the calm.

Before the words had fully left her mouth, the bandits descended from the hills and the tall grass, a swarm of bodies moving with deadly precision.