The moon hung pale above the trees, its light spilling across the clearing littered with blood and broken steel. The smell of ash lingered, carried on the night wind. The five survivors sat in a loose circle, weary but alive, the bodies of their fallen comrades laid respectfully apart.
Herbert broke the silence first. His staff rested across his knees, his voice steady though his shoulders sagged with exhaustion.
"…Boy. Your name?"
Rael looked up, startled at the directness. For a moment, he hesitated, then spoke simply, almost too plainly.
"…Rael."
The name seemed to settle into the air like a pebble dropped into still water.
Alice leaned forward at once, eyes bright despite the fatigue dragging on her young face. "Rael? Just Rael? That's all?" She tilted her head, curiosity spilling out before she could stop herself. "You don't sound like an adventurer… but you fight like one."
Rael blinked, rubbing the back of his neck. "…I'm not. Just… passing through."
Lyra, lounging against a broken stump with her twin blades resting nearby, gave a short laugh. Her eyes glittered like sharpened steel. "Not an adventurer, yet you wade into a Renhorn pack like you own the forest? Either too modest…" her smile thinned, "…or too reckless."
Rael frowned faintly, unsure how to answer, but before he could, Darren cut in. The man sat with his shield across his knees, blood still staining the dents in his armor. His voice carried the sharp bite of suspicion.
"Reckless, more like. Men who throw themselves into fights they don't belong in are either fools… or liars." His gaze hardened. "Which are you?"
Rael met his eyes, flustered but firm. "I–I just couldn't stand by and watch. People were dying."
Herbert's eyes narrowed at that, his tone low and probing. "…That's a dangerous reason. Noble, perhaps, but dangerous. I've seen many boys like you, Rael. They swing their swords for others without asking what it will cost them."
Rael's grip tightened on the scabbard across his lap. "…Then let it cost me. I'd rather carry scars than regrets."
The words hung heavy in the silence that followed.
Darren gave a sharp snort, shaking his head. "Naïve. That kind of thinking will get you killed before you even figure out what you're fighting for."
Alice's lips pressed together, but her eyes softened as she looked at Rael. Naïve or not, there was something in his answer that struck her—something she couldn't bring herself to mock. He's not what I expected at all… she thought, lowering her gaze, though a faint warmth lingered on her cheeks.
Lyra, meanwhile, studied Rael from the corner of her eye, her expression unreadable. Scars over regrets, huh? Bold words… but boldness alone doesn't win battles. She tilted her head slightly, the ghost of a smirk tugging at her lips. Still… there's steel under that hesitation. I'll be watching you, stranger.
Herbert's gaze lingered on Rael with something deeper—suspicion, yes, but also a strange weight, as though he were measuring more than the boy's words. At last, the old wizard leaned back, his voice quieter, though it carried further than before.
"…Perhaps. Or perhaps such foolishness is exactly what the world still needs."
The fire crackled faintly between them. No more words were spoken. But in the silence, something unspoken tied them together—a fragile, uncertain thread spun under the moonlight.
The embers burned low. Sleep came fitfully, haunted by the memory of steel and snarls, of comrades lost and saved by a stranger whose name was still too small for the weight it carried.