The ride back to Brimvale was slow, the wagon creaking under the weight of exhaustion and half-melted armor. Darian lay across the back, patched up with what little healing magic Lynx could spare.
Cass stretched and groaned. "Remind me never to pick up random half-dead guys again."
Rowan glanced back. "You say that every time."
"And I mean it every time," Cass shot back, glaring at the road. "I'm serious, man. We're like a walking magnet for trouble."
Lynx smirked from the reins. "You like trouble."
Cass crossed his arms. "No. I like gold. Trouble just keeps getting in the way of it."
Darian coughed weakly. "Then you're in the wrong line of work, kid."
Cass nearly jumped. "You're alive?!"
"Barely," Darian rasped, managing a crooked grin. "But I've been through worse hangovers."
By the time they rolled into Brimvale, the townsfolk came rushing out — kids, shopkeepers, even the old mayor with his cane. The wyvern's corpse had been stripped for materials, and banners of thanks hung across the street.
Rowan blinked. "They actually decorated?"
Cass snorted. "Guess we're celebrities now."
The mayor waddled over, tears in his eyes. "You saved us, boy! The least we can do is name a dish after ya!"
Cass instantly leaned in. "Can it be fried?"
Lynx facepalmed. "He means thank you."
They brought Darian to the old clinic, where the townsfolk helped remove his cracked armor. When Rowan tried to leave quietly, Darian stopped him with a shaky hand.
"Wait," he said. "Before you go… this town needs someone to keep it safe."
Rowan frowned. "You sure you're up for that?"
Darian gave a half-smile. "I've got nothing left to chase. Maybe this place can be my penance."
Cass tilted his head. "You, a former Crow captain, turning into a town guard? Man, times really are changing."
"Better a guard than a ghost," Darian said simply.
He leaned closer to Rowan. "One more thing, kid. You and your loudmouth friend — start your own guild party."
Rowan blinked. "A party?"
Darian nodded. "You'll get discounts on supplies, guild rates on crystals, and travel passes for the capital. It'll make your lives easier."
Cass grinned. "Finally! Something smart!"
"Got a name in mind?" Lynx asked.
Rowan looked out at the horizon, the rising sun reflecting off the wagon. "Yeah… The Outlaws."
Darian smirked. "Fitting."
By the next morning, the "Outlaws" had their first official guild tag — stamped in silver with a fox insignia. Rowan packed supplies, Lynx stretched her tails, and Cass… was still complaining about breakfast.
"Why is everything in this town soup?" he muttered.
"Because you almost burned down their tavern last time," Lynx shot back.
"Oh right," Cass mumbled. "Details."
They rolled out of Brimvale as the crowd waved goodbye. For the first time in years, Rowan felt something he didn't recognize at first.
Hope.
The dirt roads turned into wide cobblestone as they got closer to the capital. Towers rose in the distance like golden spears, shining beneath the morning light.
Cass whistled low. "Man, look at that. Bet the nobles wipe with silk up there."
Lynx frowned, eyes narrowing. "Don't be fooled. Gold cages still have bars."
Rowan's hand brushed the revolver on his belt. "Then let's see what kind of cage the capital really is."
The wagon rolled on, the city gates of Valemire looming ahead — the start of something far bigger than any of them could imagine.