Ragnar's eyes snapped open to the harsh caw of a crow perched on the edge of the bedframe.
The bird tilted its head, black eyes gleaming, a scrap of parchment tied to one leg with rough twine.
He lunged, fingers closing around the creature before it could flap away.
The crow squawked once, indignant, then went still as he untied the letter with shaking hands.
The words were scratched in haste, ink smudged:
"Please, help us. We, the kobold village, are under attack from a rebel named Rax.
He hurts our chief. We offer winter stores, five years' worth, if you came and stopped him."
Ragnar stared at the parchment until the letters blurred. His stomach twisted. Aunt. Val. Were they safe? Had the fighting reached them yet?
He'd been here, tangled in furs and warm skin, while home burned.
'Idiot,' he thought, the word bitter as bile. 'Chasing pleasure while they bleed.'
He crumpled the letter in his fist, his jaw tight.
No more delays. Rax would die tonight if he had to walk through fire to make it happen.
Beside him, Aria stirred, her green skin flushed from sleep.
Ragnar hesitated, then reached over and shook her shoulder gently.
"Aria."
She blinked up at him, eyes heavy, then focused. "What is it?"
He pressed the letter into her palm. "Read."
Her fingers unfolded the parchment. Her breath caught. Eyes widened.
She looked back at him, fear flickering there, fear that he would bolt, leave her behind.
But he didn't move. Instead he asked, voice low and rough, "What do we do?"
The "we" landed soft between them. Her shoulders eased a fraction. She exhaled.
"Send scouts first," she said. "See how bad it really is. We can't charge in blind."
"No time." Ragnar's voice cracked on the words.
"They are there, my aunt. My brother Val. They're in the middle of it. I have to go. Now."
Aria's mind raced behind her eyes, calculating, weighing the options.
Before she could answer, a shout tore through the morning air outside the hut, raw, desperate.
They both shot upright. Ragnar grabbed his clothes from the floor; Aria snatched her dagger. They burst through the flap.
Sarah, the chief daughter, staggered in the dirt path, knees buckling, one hand pressed to her side.
Her face was streaked with sweat and grime, eyes glassy and hazy, she was about to lose consciousness.
Ragnar moved without thinking. He caught her as she fell, arms strong around her narrow frame, and carried her back inside.
He laid her on the bed where he and Aria had lain moments before.
Sarah's eyelids fluttered. "Ragnar…?"
He knelt beside her. "I'm here."
"We searched… for two days. Never found you." Her voice was thin, fraying.
Aria hovered at the doorway, then stepped out. "I'll get water."
Ragnar nodded, but his attention stayed locked on Sarah. "Why ask for help from the goblins? Why risk it? How bad is it?"
Sarah's face darkened. She swallowed hard.
"Bad. Rax fought my father. Crippled him. Broke his legs. The ones loyal to him either fled that night… or bent the knee."
Ragnar's chest tightened. "My aunt?"
"She ran with my mother. Safe, for now."
"And Val?"
Sarah looked away. "Locked up. Defied Rax to his face. He didn't kneel."
The words hit like a hammer. Ragnar surged to his feet. "We need to save him. Now."
Sarah grabbed his wrist, grip surprisingly strong. "You can't just charge in. You'll die blindly"
He shook her off, pacing. "I don't care, "
Aria returned, clay cup in hand. She saw his face and froze. "Ragnar?"
He spun toward her. "My brother Val's locked up. Because of Rax, the same bastard from the letter."
Aria's eyes sharpened to blades. She set the cup down hard enough to slosh water over the rim.
"Then we call the goblin army. Full strength. We hit tonight. Crush him"
Sarah shook her head weakly from the bed. "It's the same problem. If we attacked blindly, everyone would be killed."
Aria opened her mouth to argue, but Sarah pushed herself up on one elbow, breathing shallow.
"But…I can take you to them, my mother, your aunt. They're hidden. We plan there. Together."
Her gaze flicked to Aria, hesitant, measuring. She didn't forget Aria was a goblin.
Ragnar stepped between them. "She's not the enemy, Sarah. She's my partner now."
Sarah's eyes widened. A shadow of something, hurt, maybe jealousy, crossed her face.
She looked down at the spilled water, then slowly set the cup aside.
When she lifted her gaze again, she finally took her time and looked at Ragnar.
Scars. Fresh bruises. And his body became more buffed and taller.
Her breath hitched. "Ragnar… what happened to you?"