The request came two days later.
Escort duty along the inner trade route. Low threat rating. Routine. The kind of assignment given to fill time between assessments.
Elian was assigned to the same detail.
"You don't mind?" he asked as we assembled. "Being paired up, I mean."
"It's irrelevant," I said.
He smiled again. "You really mean that."
The journey was uneventful at first. Minor disturbances. Scattered monsters easily repelled by the combined presence of trained candidates.
I handled most of them.
Elian noticed, but he didn't comment. Instead, he watched the terrain, adjusted positioning, compensated for weaknesses in the formation. Where I removed threats, he prevented mistakes.
It was… effective.
Near dusk, we passed a side road leading toward a cluster of smaller settlements. Smoke curled faintly in the distance—not thick, but wrong.
One of the guards frowned. "That wasn't there this morning."
"A signal fire?" another suggested.
Elian slowed. "That's not a signal."
I followed his gaze. The mana flow ahead was uneven. Disturbed.
"There could be trouble," he said. "We should check."
"The route priority is the caravan," the guard replied.
Elian looked at me.
It wasn't pleading. It was expectation.
I assessed the variables quickly. Deviating would delay the escort. Risk exposure. Unknown threat scale.
"There's no confirmed request for aid," I said. "We proceed."
Elian's jaw tightened.
"But if—"
"The caravan is our responsibility."
Silence followed.
We moved on.
That night, after the caravan reached its destination safely, a report circulated.
A peripheral settlement had been overrun. Monster surge. Delayed response. Casualties significant.
Names were listed.
Elian read it in silence.
Then he folded the report carefully and looked at me.
"You made the correct decision," he said.
I waited.
"But correct decisions still kill people," he added.
I said nothing.
For the first time, the silence between us felt uneven.