Darius's thoughts spun like a storm-tossed wheel.
Run. Stay. Hide. Fight.
He couldn't choose. Every instinct in him; trained, drilled and forged through travel with Favian, told him that standing within arm's reach of a Valiant was madness. His blood hammered in his ears. The cursed sword's memory throbbed faintly in the back of his mind, as though reminding him that it, too, would be useless against such a warrior.
But the greater pressure on him wasn't the threat of discovery. It was the twisting, unexpected pain in his chest from seeing Meredith—sweet, gentle Meredith—fling herself into the Valiant's arms.
She's getting married… to him?
He felt foolish for caring so deeply after only a day, foolish for thinking she might have looked at him with more than friendly interest. Foolish for imagining a future where he stayed in Sadnon for her sake.
The ache tangled with fear, and the fear tangled with something worse: dread.
Still, Darius remained rooted to the spot. If he fled, that alone would mark him as suspicious. If he fought, he would die. If he did nothing…
He swallowed hard. Just breathe. Hold your ground.
From a distance, Meredith laughed as she threw her arms around Karev's neck. The Valiant's smile; broad and warm, was nothing like the grim, stern faces Darius had imagined. Yet there was something in the way he held himself… a rigidity beneath the charm, a sharpness in the eyes that never softened.
Their words didn't reach him through the marketplace noise, only the lightness in Meredith's voice, and the controlled, almost practiced delight in Karev's.
Then Meredith turned.
She pointed straight at Darius.
Karev followed her gesture, his golden-embroidered cloak shifting as he pivoted. His smile vanished. His eyes narrowed, studying the stranger across the dusty path.
The look he gave chilled Darius to the bone; assessing, predatory, precise. Not offended, but… dissecting him. As though trying to place his face, or sense something beneath his skin.
A shiver ran violently through Darius's spine.
He knows. He can tell. Spirits, he knows what I am…
Meredith waved him over cheerfully, unaware of the silent exchange of dread.
"Karev, come," she called, starting toward Darius with a skip in her step.
Karev followed at her side.
Together, they walked toward him, Meredith glowing with glee, Karev wearing no expression at all now, his features carved into a mask of unreadable iron.
Darius felt his hands tremble. His breath shortened. His knees weakened.
His Guide's voice pressed again, sharp and insistent,
>>Where is Favian?<<
Darius clenched his jaw, refusing to respond. His Guide had never been this persistent, never this urgent. But with a Valiant only a few paces away, answering would look like speaking to thin air. That alone could betray him.
He kept his eyes forward, ignoring the echo in his skull.
Meredith and the cloaked figure finally reached him.
"Kriger!" she chirped, breathless from excitement. "This is Karev. My fiancé."
The word stabbed deeper than he expected. Karev stepped forward, tall, broad-shouldered. His golden embroidery marked him unmistakably, one of the Valiants, sworn defenders of the Empire… and sworn hunters of Truthers.
Darius swallowed.
Meredith gestured between them cheerfully.
"And Karev, this is Kriger. He's been helping my parents. He's a friend."
Karev studied Darius for a long, considering moment. His face was unreadable, but something in his eyes stirred… suspicion? Assessment?
Then, unexpectedly, the Valiant's expression eased. He extended a hand.
Darius hesitated only a heartbeat before accepting the handshake. Karev's grip was firm, too firm, as if testing the strength of the stranger before him. Darius forced himself not to flinch. Relief washed over him when Karev released him instead of drawing a blade.
"So you're helping Nathan," Karev said, turning to Meredith with a softened, private smile and slipping an arm around her waist.
She lit up at the simple gesture, leaning into him.
Darius looked away, a sour discomfort rising in his chest, not jealousy, he insisted silently. Just shock. And caution. Definitely caution.
"We should go," Karev murmured to her. "I promised to take you to my archery lesson."
"Right," she said brightly. Then, turning back to Darius: "You'll come with us, yes?"
Darius had already opened his mouth to decline. "I'll just return to your parents' stall"
"No!" Meredith grabbed his wrist with both hands. "Please, Kriger. Come with us! Just for a little while. Karev's teacher is wonderful, and I want to show you the range. You'll love it."
He stiffened under her earnest gaze. Saying no again would draw questions from her… and from Karev, whose neutral face had returned to that unreadable blankness.
The Guide hissed inside him, sharp and breathless,
>>Darius. Answer me. Where is Favian?<<
He forced his thoughts silent.
"…Alright," he said aloud, voice tighter than he intended. "I'll come."
Meredith beamed.
Karev only nodded, though his eyes lingered on Darius a fraction too long.
The three of them left the market together. Meredith walking lightly between them, Karev at her right, Darius at her left, while every instinct in Darius' body screamed that he had just walked into a trap.
They arrived at the archery grounds, a wide, open clearing carved from the stretch of woodland behind Sadnon's outer houses. Tall wooden posts ringed the space, each holding bundles of hay wrapped in canvas and painted with rough, fading target circles.
A dozen soldiers trained there, most dressed in simple brown or grey tunics over light armour. They were also ordinary men; farmhands turned defenders, not elite fighters. Only one figure stood out.
Karev.
The Valiant insignia gleamed faintly on his shoulder, making him look like a visiting noble among farmers.
Meredith guided Darius toward a row of wooden benches overlooking the range. She immediately settled down and slipped her threads and needle from her small pouch, her fingers already moving in familiar rhythm. Darius sat beside her, trying to look calm even as his eyes scanned the area for escape routes; an old instinct he couldn't ignore.
Karev strode to the equipment rack, selecting a bow made of pale, polished wood. The soldiers shifted, making space for him without being asked. Respect… or fear… was hard to tell.
He notched an arrow, drew back the string, and released in one smooth, fluid motion.
The arrow struck the exact centre of the farthest target with a hard, satisfying thump.
Meredith gasped happily. "Perfect! Look at him!" She clapped with genuine pride, her half-finished threadwork bouncing in her lap.
Darius nodded, impressed despite himself.
"He's talented," he admitted. "Honestly, Karev might be more useful in the Anasonian Army than with the Valiants."
Meredith smiled faintly. "I agree. He says the same thing sometimes."
Darius turned to her. "How did you two meet?"
Her hands slowed over her sewing, her eyes softening as memories surfaced.
"There was a Rageler attack," she began. "Right inside our home. It broke through the back wall during supper. My mother screamed, and Father tried to fight it with a kitchen knife." She laughed nervously. "That obviously didn't work."
"And Karev?" Darius asked, leaning slightly closer.
"He came from nowhere," she said, her voice almost reverent. "He fought the Rageler by himself. Not just drove it away—killed it. He told us later that he had been tracking that creature for days and saw it heading toward our house."
Her gaze drifted to Karev, who loosened another arrow, followed by another perfect strike.
"After that, my parents insisted we repay him somehow. They kept inviting him to dinner. He always accepted… politely, even shyly." She smiled to herself. "Over time, we… grew fond of each other."
She tied the end of her thread with a neat twist.
"It wasn't dramatic, really. We simply fell in love."
Darius exhaled slowly, uncertain what to say, or what to think. His chest tightened,not entirely sure why.
But for now, he stayed seated beside Meredith, watching the Valiant hit bull's-eye after bull's-eye.
After several clean rounds, Karev finally lowered his bow. The soldiers around him murmured in admiration, some clapping quietly. Karev acknowledged them with a nod but turned his gaze toward the benches, toward Meredith and Darius.
"Kriger!" Karev called out, lifting a hand. "Come. Try a shot."
Darius stiffened. Meredith paused mid-stitch, eyebrows raised.
Darius rose halfway, then sat back down again.
"I appreciate it," he called back politely, "but I'm not skilled with a bow."
Karev only smiled, calm, unreadable, almost amused.
"You don't need skill to learn," he replied. "Come. I'll show you."
Meredith nudged Darius with her elbow, whispering, "You'll be fine. He's a good teacher."
Reluctantly, and painfully aware of the Valiant eyes on him, Darius stood and crossed the training ground. Karev offered him a bow; it felt unfamiliar in Darius's hands. Itlighter than he expected, yet unforgiving.
"Stand here," Karev instructed, guiding him to a spot in front of a wide, straw-bound target.
Karev stepped close and positioned Darius' feet with gentle taps of his boot.
"Balance matters more than strength," he said.
He adjusted Darius's grip, moving his hands with steady precision.
"Relax your shoulders. A stiff body makes a weak shot."
Darius inhaled sharply as Karev placed a finger under his elbow and lifted it.
"There. Keep the bow steady. Don't chase the target, let the target come to your focus."
Darius swallowed, trying not to appear tense.
Meredith called from the benches, "You're doing great!"
Flustered, Darius pulled back the string. It trembled in his fingers.
"Wait," Karev said softly.
He stepped behind Darius, his voice firm but calm. "Draw from your back, not your arm. Let the breath carry the shot."
Darius exhaled.
"Now. Loose."
He released.
The arrow flew… crooked at first, then straightened just long enough to sink into the outer ring of the target with a dull thud. The soldiers hummed approvingly.
"Not bad," Karev said. "Again."
Darius tried a second time. Karev corrected his form once more.
"Don't rush. Your body knows more than you think."
The second shot hit closer to the centre.
Meredith clapped, beaming. "Look at you!"
Darius felt heat rise to his cheeks, but he tried to appear composed.
"One more," Karev said, passing him another arrow. "This time, trust your stance. And your breath."
Darius nodded and set his feet just as Karev had taught him.
He drew the bowstring back smoothly, breathing in, slow and steady.
He fixed his gaze on the target. The world around him muted to a soft hum.
He exhaled.
The arrow flew.
Thump.
Dead centre.
A perfect shot.
The soldiers cheered louder this time, surprised. Meredith stood, clapping proudly, her smile brighter than the sun above. Karev crossed his arms, nodding with clear approval.
"Well done," Karev said, extending a hand.
Darius shook it firmly, with relief, gratitude and a faint smile crossing his lips.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "Truly."
As he walked back toward Meredith, he allowed himself a small, private smile.
It felt good… unexpectedly good to be taught, to succeed, and to be treated like an ordinary man, not a hunted Truther.
For a moment… he even believed he could belong.