The town didn't sleep much that night. Even after the shouting in the square had died down, voices carried through the alleys—arguments, recruiting pitches, and quiet schemes whispered between flickers of campfire.
Moss leaned against a fence outside the makeshift tavern, watching the lamplight ripple across barrels and crates still stamped with the imperial crest. The seal was faded, but it was still there. The Empire's reach always lingered.
Dole joined him, chewing a strip of dried meat. "Word's spreading fast. Kain's men are talking about forming patrols. Rosa's gathering tradesmen, healers, anyone tired of being treated like rations. Guess everyone's picking sides already."
Moss kept his gaze on the street. A few laborers with white cloth bands lifted a broken cart while soldiers walked past without helping. "We've only just arrived," he said. "And already they're dividing the place up."
Dole snorted. "Like the old days. Same hierarchy, different dirt."
Before Moss could answer, a calm, familiar voice reached them from behind.
"I thought I recognized those two silhouettes."
Rosa approached, her steps steady, her white mage robes marked with dust and faint stains of healing salve. She looked tired but composed, her smile soft and knowing.
"Still kicking, I see," she said.
"Barely," Dole replied. "You're making quite the name for yourself here."
Rosa's smile didn't fade. "Someone has to keep things from falling apart. There's food to distribute, tents to repair, and too many people pretending they still have orders to follow."
Moss studied her face. "You always were good at keeping the wounded together."
"And you," she said, turning to him, "were always too quiet for your own good."
He almost smiled at that, and Rosa noticed—her eyes warmed, and she gave a brief wink before stepping toward a small cluster of settlers still arguing near the well. With one raised hand, her voice carried over the noise, calm and clear.
"We build by helping each other, not fighting over scraps. The Empire may have sent us, but what happens next belongs to us."
The crowd murmured. Some nodded. Others crossed their arms. Moss caught Dole's glance; both men knew that kind of speech didn't come from nowhere. Rosa spoke like someone used to command.
When she returned, she folded her arms. "This place has a chance, if we stop acting like soldiers and start acting like settlers."
Dole's tone was easy, but his eyes weren't. "You've always had a way with words. Reminds me of the ones who used to give them from the high steps."
Her gaze lingered on him, unreadable. "And you've always had a way of finding fault, Dole."
He chuckled. "Just saying. You used to serve under Cecil, didn't you? The Emperor's dark knight?"
Rosa didn't deny it. She looked toward the flickering torches in the square. "The past has long shadows. I'm just trying to light a few lanterns."
Then she excused herself, walking off toward her group.
Dole waited a few moments before speaking. "She didn't say no."
Moss's voice was quiet. "She didn't have to."
The shouts in the square grew again—pushing, arguing, lines forming between factions.
Then came the sharp crack of metal on stone.
Kain stood at the edge of the square, spear butt pressed to the ground, his voice rising above the noise.
"Enough! We'll regroup tomorrow once the other convoys arrive so we can decide how to manage this settlement. Each faction will choose two representatives. You'll speak for your own when the sun sets tomorrow. Until then—no bloodshed."
His authority rolled over the crowd like thunder. The noise died quickly.
Rosa stepped in to calm a few of her own, her words soft but firm. Moss watched her, uneasy.
"She's got presence," Dole said.
"Too much," Moss replied. "Feels rehearsed."
"You think she's working for him still?"
Moss didn't answer right away. He watched Rosa directing people again, her movements precise, practiced.
"Maybe," he said finally. "Or maybe she just remembers how to lead."
Dole gave a short laugh, bitter and tired. "So that's our choice, then? A man who rules with fear, or a woman who rules with words."
Moss looked out toward the fires burning low across the settlement. "Either way," he said, "someone else will be holding the reins."