The storm broke near evening, as Adrian had predicted.
The constant roar of wind and rain faded gradually—first to steady rainfall, then to drizzle, finally to silence punctuated only by water dripping from leaves and the occasional distant thunder. The sky remained overcast but the worst had passed.
They emerged from the way station to assess conditions. Everything was soaked—the road turned to mud in places, small streams running where dry paths had been hours before. Traveling in this would be slow and treacherous, especially as darkness approached.
"We should stay the night," Garrick advised, checking the sky with professional eye. "Ground needs time to drain. Traveling in darkness through mud isn't safe, and the horses are already tired from this morning's hard ride."
"Agreed," Adrian said. "The way station has everything we need. Better to rest properly and leave at dawn than risk injury pushing through bad conditions."
Alice looked almost relieved. The tension of racing the storm, followed by hours confined in close quarters, had left everyone drained despite the rest. Another night of genuine shelter before facing whatever came next sounded good.
They settled in for evening—tending the horses, preparing more substantial meal than midday's quick fare, rearranging the way station for comfortable overnight stay. The fire burned steady, drying the last of their clothing while providing warmth against the chill that lingered after the storm.
As night fell fully, the four gathered around the hearth. No other travelers had arrived—they had the shelter to themselves, creating odd intimacy in the small space.
"Tell us about yourself, Garrick," Alice said eventually, curiosity evident. "We know you're High Knight, that you fought at eastern and western borders. But beyond that... who are you? Where do you come from?"
Garrick smiled slightly, as though he'd been expecting the question. "I was wondering when someone would ask. Most people are too intimidated by the rank to inquire about the person."
"We've been traveling together for days," Mira observed. "Seems reasonable to know more about our companion."
"Fair enough." Garrick settled more comfortably. "I'm from House Grimward—you might recognize the name. Within the kingdom, we're fairly well-known."
"Known for what?" Alice asked.
"Monster killing." Garrick's tone carried pride without arrogance. "My family has specialized in hunting dangerous creatures for six generations. Not demons—those are rare enough that we've only encountered them a handful of times—but monsters. The things that emerge from deep wilderness regularly, that threaten villages and travelers, that require specialized knowledge to hunt effectively."
Adrian leaned forward with interest. "House Grimward—I've heard the name. Your family has reputation even at Northwatch. Elite monster hunters."
"That's the goal—be the best at what we do." Garrick fed another log to the fire. "Monster hunting is common enough profession. Creatures threaten settlements regularly, so there's always work for competent hunters. But House Grimward has refined it beyond basic competence. We study monster behavior, develop specific techniques for different creatures, maintain detailed records of successful hunts and effective tactics. Generation after generation adding to collective knowledge."
"What kinds of monsters?" Mira asked, professional curiosity evident.
"Depends on region and season. Wyverns in mountain ranges—smaller than dragons but far more common and nearly as dangerous. Basilisks in swamplands—their gaze doesn't actually turn you to stone, but the venom does paralyze, which is close enough. Dire wolves in northern forests—pack hunters smart enough to coordinate tactics. Chimeras when you're really unlucky—three heads, multiple attack patterns, incredibly difficult to kill."
"You've fought all of these?" Alice's eyes were wide.
"Most. Started training young—family tradition. By ten years old, I was learning to track wyverns. Twelve, participated in my first basilisk hunt under my father's supervision. Fifteen, helped take down dire wolf pack that had been terrorizing villages near our holdings." Garrick's expression grew distant with memory. "Sixteen when I first faced chimera. That one nearly killed me."
"How did you survive?" Adrian asked.
"Luck and family training. My uncle recognized I was overcommitted, threw himself between me and the creature's strike. Saved my life, lost his arm." Garrick's tone carried old grief. "Taught me crucial lesson—monster hunting requires team coordination. Individual heroics get people killed."
The fire crackled in the silence that followed.
"Is that why you joined the royal guard?" Alice asked gently. "To move away from monster hunting?"
"Partially. Also because I'd proven everything I needed to prove to myself about monster hunting. Taken down every major creature type House Grimward specializes in. Earned family's respect and reputation in the profession. But staying would have meant eventually leading House Grimward, and..." He paused. "My younger brother is better suited for that. Better at the politics of maintaining our reputation, negotiating contracts with villages and nobles, managing the business aspects. I'm just good at the killing part."
"So you found different outlet for those skills," Mira observed.
"Exactly. Royal guard needed experienced warriors, and I wanted to prove I could excel beyond family legacy. Monster hunting made me formidable fighter, yes, but it's common enough work that it wasn't particularly distinguished on its own." Garrick smiled. "High Knight, though—that's achievement separate from family name. That's proving I can excel in realm my family doesn't dominate."
"Your border experience," Adrian said thoughtfully. "Fighting demons at eastern and western reaches. That's rarer than monster hunting."
"Significantly rarer. Demons are uncommon enough that most warriors never face them. Monsters threaten settlements constantly—there's always work for hunters. But demons?" Garrick shook his head. "Those require different expertise entirely. They're smarter, more dangerous, less predictable than most monsters. Fighting them at the borders, learning their tactics, surviving multiple encounters—that's what elevated me beyond standard monster hunter to High Knight consideration."
"You've fought demons then?" Alice asked with clear interest. "Real demon combat like what we'll face at Northwatch?"
"Several times. Eastern border crisis seven years ago—demon incursion that required full military response. Western reaches three years back—smaller group but highly organized. Both experiences taught me that demons are fundamentally different threat than monsters." He looked at Adrian. "Though I suspect you know that better than most, growing up at Northwatch where demon encounters are more regular occurrence."
"We see them more frequently than most of the kingdom," Adrian confirmed carefully. "Border position makes us the first defense against northern demon activity. It's... persistent threat."
"Which makes Northwatch unusual," Garrick observed. "Most of the kingdom deals with monster threats regularly. Demons are rare enough to be notable when they appear. But at the borders, especially northern border—you face the rarer, more dangerous threat as routine."
"That's why we're going," Alice said with determination. "To learn to handle threats most people never face. Monster hunting is respectable work, yes, but demon combat—that's what kingdom's defenders actually need to master."
"Ambitious goal," Garrick said approvingly. "Most warriors would be content mastering monster threats since those are what they'll encounter most frequently. You're choosing to learn the rarer, harder skill set."
"Because rare doesn't mean unimportant," Alice replied. "If demons are more dangerous than monsters, then learning to fight them matters more even if encounters are less frequent."
"Spoken like someone who's thought seriously about what defense actually requires." Garrick's respect was evident. "Your father chose well sending me along. Someone with both monster hunting expertise and demon combat experience can teach you both skill sets."
"Does your family still hunt monsters?" Alice asked.
"Actively. My brother leads now, along with my two cousins and various hired specialists. House Grimward takes contracts across the kingdom—nobles hire us when monster threats exceed local warriors' capabilities, villages pool resources for our services when dire wolf packs or worse threaten their homes. It's steady, profitable work." He smiled. "They're good at it—maybe better than I was because they actually enjoy the research and planning aspects. I preferred the direct confrontation."
"There's honor in direct approach," Adrian said.
"There's also death if you're not careful. Monster hunting requires patience I never quite developed. Study the creature, learn its patterns, prepare specifically for its weaknesses—that's how you survive long-term." Garrick looked at Adrian thoughtfully. "Though I suspect you understand the value of both—patient preparation and direct action when necessary."
Adrian felt uncomfortable being read that accurately. "Border defense requires both."
"It does. As does elite monster hunting. As does anything worth doing well." Garrick's gaze was knowing but not probing. "You fight like someone with more experience than your years suggest. Makes me curious about your background."
"Northwatch training," Adrian said carefully. "Started young, learned fast. Demon threats don't wait for you to reach appropriate age."
"Mmm. Perhaps." Garrick didn't push further, but his expression suggested he suspected there was more to the story.
Alice, perhaps sensing Adrian's discomfort, redirected. "What's the most dangerous creature you've ever fought?"
"Personally? Probably the chimera I mentioned—three heads means three separate attack patterns to track simultaneously, and each head has different capabilities. The lion head is raw power, the goat head breathes fire, the serpent head is venomous. Coordinating defense against all three while finding openings to attack is..." He shook his head. "Nightmare. We lost two people in that hunt before finally bringing it down."
"But you survived," Mira observed.
"I survived. Others didn't. That's monster hunting—you prepare as well as possible, execute carefully, and sometimes people still die because creatures don't follow expected patterns." His tone was matter-of-fact rather than haunted. "You honor the fallen by learning from what killed them, ensuring next hunt is safer."
"That's practical philosophy," Adrian said.
"It's survival philosophy. Grief has its place, but in the field, you focus on preventing next death rather than dwelling on last one." Garrick met Adrian's eyes. "I suspect you understand that too. Border warfare teaches similar lessons."
It did. Across multiple lifetimes, Adrian had learned to compartmentalize loss, to focus on surviving the next fight rather than mourning those who'd fallen in the previous one. It was necessary but cold skill that sometimes made him wonder what he'd lost along the way.
"Tell us about the wyverns," Alice requested, clearly eager to move away from heavier topics. "You mentioned tracking them at ten years old?"
Garrick's expression lightened. "Wyverns are fascinating creatures—smaller than true dragons, only two legs instead of four, but remarkably intelligent and far more common. They nest in high mountain caves, hunt in coordinated pairs, and remember threats. If you injure a wyvern and it escapes, it'll remember you. Will attack on sight years later."
"They hold grudges?" Alice asked, surprised.
"Absolutely. We have family records of wyverns seeking revenge on specific hunters decades after initial encounters. One story tells of a wyvern that tracked my great-great-uncle for thirty years before finally getting its chance at payback."
"Did it succeed?" Mira asked.
"Almost. He survived but lost an eye and half his hearing. Retired from hunting after that, spent his remaining years teaching younger generation and documenting wyvern behavior patterns." Garrick smiled. "The wyvern was eventually killed by his daughter—my great-aunt. Family legend says she did it specifically to avenge her father's injury."
"Your family takes monster hunting very seriously," Alice observed.
"It's our legacy. What we're known for. What we've perfected across generations while other families might be content with basic competence." Garrick's pride was evident. "Most warriors learn to fight other warriors and handle common monster threats adequately. We've specialized in being the best at fighting things that don't think like humans, that require different tactics and strategies than standard combat."
"Do you miss it?" Adrian asked. "The monster hunting?"
Garrick considered honestly. "Sometimes. There's purity to it—creature threatens people, you eliminate threat, problem solved. Monster hunting is honest work with clear objectives and measurable success." He paused. "But serving the crown has its own satisfactions. Monster hunting is common profession, respectable but not particularly distinguished. High Knight in royal service, with demon combat experience—that's achievement beyond what family legacy could provide alone."
"Plus you get to terrify young warriors who've never met a High Knight before," Mira said with slight smile.
"That is unexpected benefit," Garrick agreed with matching smile. "Though you've all adapted well. Most people remain intimidated throughout entire interaction."
"Hard to stay intimidated when you're trapped in a storm shelter together," Alice said. "Shared misery builds familiarity."
"Or maybe you're just less easily intimidated than most," Garrick suggested. "Daughter of the king, training to fight demons specifically rather than settling for monster hunting competence. Guardian sworn to protection. Baron's son who bears unprecedented flame and grew up fighting the rarer threat as routine. You're all exceptional in your own rights—wouldn't be here if you weren't."
The acknowledgment settled warmly over the group. These were people who'd chosen difficult paths, who'd proven themselves beyond normal expectations, who understood what it meant to push past comfortable limits.
"Your turn," Garrick said, looking at Mira. "We know you're guardian, that you've protected Princess Alice since birth. But who is Mira beyond the role? What's your story?"
Mira looked slightly uncomfortable being focus of attention but answered. "I'm from House Elbrecht."
Garrick's entire demeanor shifted immediately—straightening with clear recognition and deep respect. "House Elbrecht. The sworn shields. One of the most respected families in the entire kingdom."
Adrian glanced between them, noting Garrick's reaction. "Elbrecht?"
"You don't know?" Garrick asked, then understanding dawned. "Ah. Northwatch isolation. You wouldn't have learned about the great houses beyond basic geography."
"I'm learning that there's much about the kingdom I don't know," Adrian admitted, and there was no shame in the acknowledgment—just recognition of gaps in his knowledge. "House Elbrecht?"
"Is arguably the most influential family in Arathor after the Valebrights themselves," Garrick explained with clear awe. "Everyone in the kingdom knows the Elbrecht name. They're legendary."
"Our family has served as the Valebright's personal protectors since Arathor's formation," Mira said. "When the kingdom was founded, my ancestor—Eldric Elbrecht—swore his house to shield the royal line. That oath has been honored for generations across centuries."
"The histories say Eldric Elbrecht saved the first king's life three times in the founding wars," Alice added. "The oath wasn't just ceremonial—it was forged in blood and battle. House Elbrecht has been integral to House Valebright's survival since the very beginning."
Adrian felt something shift in his understanding. He'd known Mira was guardian, yes. Had understood she protected Alice. But he'd thought of it as job assignment, not generational legacy carried by one of the kingdom's most powerful families.
"House Elbrecht's dedication is known throughout Arathor," Garrick continued. "Every child learns about them in basic history. The family that has never wavered in their oath, that has sacrificed everything across generations to keep the royal line safe. They're honored everywhere—north to south, east to west. The Elbrecht name carries weight that few others can match."
"I had no idea," Adrian said quietly, looking at Mira with new understanding. "At Northwatch, we focus on immediate threats. Demon defense, border security. I never learned about... this. About the families that shaped the kingdom."
"That's changing though," Mira observed gently. "You're curious now. Asking questions, wanting to understand the wider world beyond the border. That's growth."
She was right. A year ago—before the trials, before meeting Alice, before everything changed—Adrian wouldn't have cared about noble houses or kingdom politics. His focus had been narrow: demons, revenge, survival. Three hundred years of existence spent entirely on his personal goals.
But now he wanted to know. Wanted to understand the kingdom he'd been reborn into, the people who shaped it, the legacies that mattered beyond his own narrow focus.
"Tell me about it," Adrian said. "About House Elbrecht. I want to understand."
Mira seemed pleased by his genuine interest. "My family takes the oath seriously. I'm the youngest of three—my two older siblings also serve as guardians to other members of the royal family. My brother protects Prince Theon, my sister guards Prince Cedric. It's what we're raised for, what we're expected to become."
"The three of them grew up with us," Alice explained. "Mira's been with me since I can remember, and her siblings have been constant presences with my brothers. House Elbrecht doesn't just guard us—they've been part of our lives from the beginning."
"It's different from standard bodyguard assignments," Mira continued. "We're not rotated or replaced. The bond is intentional, cultivated from childhood. Elbrecht philosophy believes protecting someone requires understanding them, caring about them genuinely. How can you anticipate threats to someone you don't truly know?"
"That's why we're so close," Alice said. "Not despite guardian tradition but because of how House Elbrecht interprets it. They don't believe in emotional distance—they believe caring makes them better protectors."
"My family believes the oath to shield requires more than just physical protection," Mira confirmed. "We shield reputation, wellbeing, happiness when possible. We're not just bodyguards—we're companions, advisors, the people our charges can trust absolutely because our families' fates have been intertwined for centuries."
"And everyone in the kingdom respects this?" Adrian asked, still processing.
"Everyone," Garrick confirmed with absolute certainty. "House Elbrecht's name is synonymous with loyalty, honor, sacrifice. They're taught about in every academy, honored in every region. When people speak of House Elbrecht, it's with reverence. They represent the highest ideals of service."
"Does your family only serve as guardians?" Adrian asked Mira. "Or do Elbrechts pursue other paths as well?"
"Primarily guardians, though not exclusively. Some cousins serve in royal guard, military positions of high command. But the core of House Elbrecht identity is the oath to shield House Valebright. It's who we are, what we've been for as long as Arathor has existed." Mira's pride was evident. "My great-great-grandmother died protecting Queen Seraphina's grandmother during an assassination attempt. My grandfather lost an eye defending King Aldric's father during a border skirmish. The oath isn't just words—it's proven in blood, generation after generation."
"I remember your grandfather," Alice said softly. "He visited the palace when I was young. The scar across his face from that border skirmish. He told me stories about protecting my grandfather, said it was the greatest honor of his life even though it cost him his eye."
"He meant it," Mira said. "To House Elbrecht, there's no higher calling than fulfilling the oath. My family considers it privilege, not burden. We're one of the most influential families in the kingdom precisely because we've never wavered, never compromised, never put personal interest above our sworn duty."
"That's intense legacy to carry," Garrick said with understanding born from his own family history. "Though House Grimward specializes in monster hunting—respectable work—we're nowhere near House Elbrecht's level of influence or respect. You carry one of the most honored names in all of Arathor."
"We're privileged to serve," Mira said simply. "And the bond between our houses has remained strong across centuries. My father says Valebrights and Elbrechts are two halves of same coin—one leads, one protects. Neither complete without the other."
"It's true," Alice confirmed. "I can't imagine my family without House Elbrecht. You've been there through everything—celebrations, crises, daily life. More than guards, you're extended family."
Adrian processed all of this, feeling his worldview expand. He'd been so focused on his own purpose, his own revenge, his own narrow existence that he'd missed entire dimensions of the kingdom he lived in.
House Elbrecht. One of the most respected, influential families in Arathor. And Mira carried that legacy while making it seem like simple duty.
"I have much to learn," Adrian said quietly. "About the kingdom, about the families that shaped it, about... everything beyond demons and defense."
"That's part of why you're opening up," Garrick observed. "Why you're asking questions, wanting to understand rather than just existing in your isolated corner. Growth requires curiosity."
"Alice helps with that," Adrian admitted, glancing at her. "Makes me want to understand the world she comes from, the kingdom she'll help lead someday."
Alice's expression softened. "And you're teaching me about the world I never saw—the border, the constant danger, what real defense requires. We're both learning from each other."
The moment carried weight—acknowledgment of how they were changing each other, expanding each other's understanding beyond their original narrow focuses.
"Well," Garrick said after respectful pause, "this has become rather serious. Perhaps we should lighten the mood. Who wants to hear about the time I accidentally wandered into a nest of giant spiders and had to be rescued by my twelve-year-old cousin?"
"I do!" Alice said immediately.
"This should be good," Adrian agreed.
Garrick launched into story that was equal parts humiliating and hilarious—young warrior's overconfidence meeting reality in form of dozens of horse-sized spiders and terrified retreat. His ability to laugh at himself made the tale entertaining despite the genuine danger it had represented.
More stories followed. Mira shared Elbrecht family legends—the time her great-uncle had protected the king during formal dinner by identifying poisoned wine through pure instinct, making him look paranoid until tests proved him right. Alice recounted palace life absurdities—formal dinners where she'd had to pretend interest in tedious noble gossip while wanting to practice combat forms. Adrian contributed border stories carefully edited to avoid revealing too much—demon encounters that turned comical through unexpected circumstances.
The evening flowed easily, four people from different worlds finding common ground in shared humanity. Warriors all, yes, but also people with histories and families and moments of absurdity alongside the serious business of survival.
Eventually, conversation wound down as exhaustion claimed them. They arranged bedrolls around the fire—not for warmth now but for comfort of light in darkness.
As Alice settled in for sleep, she looked at Adrian across the dimming fire. Her expression was soft, content in ways that had nothing to do with physical comfort and everything to do with belonging.
"Thank you for this," she said quietly.
"For what?"
"For being curious. For wanting to learn about my world instead of dismissing it as irrelevant." She smiled. "For opening yourself up to understanding things beyond what you thought mattered."
"You make me want to understand," Adrian replied honestly.
"Good. Because I want to understand your world too." Her eyes held his for long moment. "Goodnight, Adrian."
"Goodnight, Alice."
She turned to her bedroll, settling in. Adrian lay awake longer, watching fire burn down to embers, processing the evening's conversations and revelations.
Garrick—High Knight from House Grimward of elite monster hunters, who'd left family legacy to forge different path through rarer demon combat expertise. Mira—from House Elbrecht, one of the most respected and influential families in the entire kingdom, sworn shields to the Valebright line for centuries, carrying legacy that everyone in Arathor honored. Alice—princess who'd recognized that royal birth wasn't enough and was actively working to become more.
And him—demon prince reborn who'd spent three hundred years focused entirely on revenge, now learning that the world was larger and more complex than he'd ever bothered to notice. That there were legacies worth understanding, people worth knowing, a kingdom worth protecting beyond just the border he'd always defended.
Alice was changing him. Making him curious about things he'd never cared about before. Making him want to be part of something larger than his personal vendetta.
Maybe that was good change.
Maybe that was exactly what three hundred years of narrow focus had needed.
Adrian let himself sleep finally, knowing tomorrow would bring them closer to Northwatch, closer to whatever came next.
But tonight had been good. Simple conversation, shared stories, growing bonds between people who'd started as strangers and were becoming something more substantial.
Family, maybe. Or at least the kind of chosen connections that mattered as much as blood.
The fire died to coals, casting soft red glow over sleeping warriors.
The journey north continued.