Elena

The first rays of dawn hadn’t yet cut through the morning mist when I reached the stables. The air was crisp, carrying the faint smell of hay and leather. Inside, the horses shuffled in their stalls, their breaths visible in the cool air, creating a sense of peace that helped ease the nervous energy thrumming through me.

Of course, Rafe was already there.

He stood beside a large, chestnut-colored mare, methodically packing the saddlebags with a quiet efficiency, his attention focused entirely on his work. He didn’t acknowledge me, didn’t even look up as I entered. Typical.

“Morning to you, too,” I said, trying to keep my tone light.

Rafe paused for the briefest of moments but didn’t respond, continuing to strap down the bags. In the dim light, I could see the sharper lines of his half-elven features—the slight point of his ears, the angular cut of his jaw. He looked like he belonged in the shadows, like the early morning suited him better than daylight.

“Not much of a morning person, huh?” I quipped, moving over to my horse, Solstice, a gray gelding who nickered softly at my approach. I patted his neck, letting him nuzzle my hand as I adjusted his saddle.

“I prefer silence before a journey,” Rafe replied, his voice low and steady. He still didn’t look up, but it was more words than I’d expected from him this early.

“Lucky for you, I can be quiet,” I replied, tightening Solstice’s saddle. “But just so you know, we’re going to be on the road for quite a while. You might have to get used to a bit of conversation.”

Rafe made a noise that could have been a chuckle, though it was so quiet I could’ve imagined it. “I’ve traveled alone most of my life, Elena. I’ll manage.”

I muttered to Solstice, mostly to myself. “Of course you have.”

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Once we were both ready, I led Solstice outside, into the gentle, muted light of dawn. Rafe followed with his mare, still as silent as a shadow, as we mounted up and turned toward the road that would take us to Isley.

For the first hour, the only sounds were the rhythmic clop of hooves and the occasional call of a distant bird. The path wound through dense forest, trees stretching up like silent guardians on either side. A low mist clung to the ground, giving the woods an ethereal, almost otherworldly feel. Normally, I’d have appreciated the quiet, but the silence between us felt heavy. I kept sneaking glances at Rafe, half-expecting him to break the silence. He didn’t.

Finally, I decided to make the first move. “So, how long have you been with the guild—The Warden’s Reach?” It was a safe question, something light to fill the space between us.

Rafe didn’t answer right away. His gaze stayed fixed ahead, as though he were searching for something in the shadows beyond the trees. “Long enough,” he said eventually, his tone clipped.

I stifled a sigh. “Long enough to never have crossed paths with me, though, huh?”

He glanced over at me, his eyes sharper than I’d expected. “I’ve heard of you.”

That caught me off guard. “You have?”

“A healer,” he said, his voice calm, controlled. “But not just a healer.” There was a weight in his words that I hadn’t anticipated, as if he understood more about what I did than I’d thought.

“Well, aren’t you full of surprises,” I muttered, feeling a flicker of pride that he knew my skills went beyond just stitching up wounds.

The silence returned, but this time it felt less brittle. I caught myself wondering what he’d heard about me—and what stories there were about him that I hadn’t been told.

By mid-morning, the trees began to thin, and the rolling hills leading toward Isley spread out before us. The village was just a smudge on the horizon, barely visible through the haze.

“So,” I said, glancing over at him, “what do you think we’re actually up against with this relic?”

Rafe’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, his gaze forward. “The Ward of the Fallen isn’t something people seek lightly. Those who’ve looked for it… let’s just say they didn’t all come back.”

I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the morning air. “And you still signed up for this mission?”

His eyes flicked toward me, a flash of something darker beneath his calm exterior. “There are things worth risking your life for, Elena.” He looked back to the road. “You’ll understand that soon enough.”

A shiver ran down my spine. It wasn’t just what he said, but the way he said it—like he spoke from experience, like he was someone who’d learned the hard way.

Maybe Rafe planned to stay a mystery. But something told me that before this journey was over, those walls of his would crack, whether he wanted them to or not.