The attack came in the harsh light of day. My body, drained from days and nights of watchfulness and long hours training them, had finally given in. I lay tucked inside the reinforced box of the carriage, shadows drawn tight around me to shield against the sunlight. The group had made it a rule: never wake me unless death itself was certain. They guarded me while I slept, posted in shifts, determined to protect me as I had protected them.
But bandits cared little for rules.
The sudden clatter of hooves and the guttural shouts of men tore through the midday quiet. Steel glinted in the sun, blades flashing as rough figures surged out of the trees. Startled cries went up, but Kael and Elenya's voices rang steady, calling order to the chaos.
"Shields in front! Little ones behind us—now!" Kael roared, his stance already firm.
The drills I had pushed into them showed at once. They didn't scatter. They didn't cry for help. They planted their feet, lifted weapons that trembled but did not falter, and stood against the charge. Sparks of magic flickered weakly, hands raised in defiance. A few arrows sang out, hastily loosed, but enough to make the bandits flinch.
The air filled with the clash of wood and steel, the sharp tang of sweat and fear. Elenya shouted for the humans to hold formation. A beastfolk boy snarled as he threw himself in front of a child, shield raised. The bandits expected easy prey, yet here stood a wall.
Then came the moment that broke the silence inside my box. A bandit's sword, whistling down toward a young beastfolk girl, struck my invisible barrier with a ringing crack. The flare of energy jolted through me like lightning, tearing me from sleep. My chest heaved as magic surged, instinct overriding exhaustion. The reinforced lid of my carriage blasted off, soaring high before crashing down in the dirt. Gasps of shock rippled through the defenders—even as I slept, my magic had answered.
I pushed myself upright, groggy, hair spilling loose, eyes narrowed against the bright day. Every sound pressed against me: the screams, the metallic ring, the frantic shuffle of feet. My voice was low, raw from disuse, yet carried through the chaos like a blade drawn. "Who… dares try to kill one under my protection?"
Every arm pointed to the bandit still gaping at the light shimmering around his frozen blade.
His eyes widened, his face draining pale. "Wh-what are you?" he stammered.
I didn't answer. My legs carried me forward with the slow inevitability of a storm. The clash of steel and cries of battle dulled as I reached him, my hand closing around his throat like an iron shackle. His blade clattered uselessly to the ground.
"Even asleep," I murmured, though whether to him or myself I wasn't sure, "you cannot touch them."
His mouth worked soundlessly, terror choking the rest of his words. Without another glance to the others, I dragged him into the treeline. His desperate protests turned into screams, then dwindled into silence swallowed by the forest. Birds startled from the canopy, wings beating frantically into the blue sky, but soon even they fell quiet.
Back in the clearing, the fight raged. Kael bellowed orders, parrying strikes with a steadiness I had drilled into him. Elenya's charms glowed faintly on the children's clothes, sparks burning through a bandit's sleeve as he grabbed too close. A human boy tripped, but two others hauled him up, spears thrusting together to drive the enemy back. They were clumsy, raw—but they fought like a pack, not prey.
Minutes stretched feeling like hours. The bandits faltered, shaken by the resistance, fear creeping into their eyes. One broke and fled, then another. Soon the momentum crumbled, and with curses spat over their shoulders, they scattered back into the woods they had come from.
When I stepped from the shadows again, silence reigned save for ragged breaths and the rustle of the wind. The bandit who had dared raise his blade was gone.
Kael lowered his spear, sweat streaking his brow, but pride lifted his voice. "We held the line, Shadow."
Elenya gave a shaky laugh, clutching a scraped arm. "Not bad for our first real fight without you."
A child peeked out from behind a log, eyes wide not with fear but wonder. "She woke up because of us…"
I looked over them all—faces tired, bruised, but standing. The pride in me swelled hot, mingling with the dangerous satisfaction still burning in my veins. Even in my absence, even while I slept, they had proved themselves. No longer prey. No longer powerless.
I drew the shadows back around me, letting the exhaustion press once more at my limbs. "Remember this," I said, voice quiet but firm. "I will not always step in. You must fight. You must protect yourselves. Today, you proved you can. And I am proud of you."
A murmur spread through them, weary smiles breaking across dirt-smudged faces. Pride—not mine this time, but theirs—lit their eyes. For the first time, they stood taller not because I shielded them, but because they had defended one another and won.