Silas chuckled softly, satisfied. "I like leaders with courage. Even if it comes wrapped in fear."
Thalya remained silent, but her eyes studied me intently. Dorn merely pushed away from the wall and gave a grunt of acknowledgment. I wasn't sure if it was approval or just a sign that he was listening.
Mirna then stepped forward, raising her voice slightly. "Your journey begins tomorrow at sunrise. Until then, you'll have accommodations in the east wing of the church. Gather yourselves, rest, check your equipment. We won't depart until everyone is in condition."
Kale cracked her shoulders. "Whatever. As long as no one tries to make me pray, we're good."
"Just respect the symbols," Mirna replied curtly before turning to me. "My lady, is there anything you wish to do before resting?"
My eyes returned to Aaron's statue. For a moment, I thought about asking to stay there alone. But the weight of exhaustion was already crushing me.
"No… I just want to sleep."
Mirna nodded and gestured to the clerics. They guided us through the church halls, past more paintings, more stained glass — Aaron forging pacts, liberating cities, healing the sick. Each step made my throat tighten.
When we reached the rooms, I was given a modest but comfortable suite. The bed had thick white sheets, there was a desk, a magical fireplace, and a narrow window overlooking the inner courtyard. Mirna refused to sleep elsewhere and settled into a chair beside the bed, just as she did when I was a child — a constant, silent presence.
I removed my cloak and lay down slowly, my body aching more than I wanted to admit. As the mattress gave under my weight, a sigh escaped my lips. The journey, the teleportation, the emotions… everything had left me in tatters.
"Mirna…" I called softly, eyes already closed.
"Yes?"
"Come sleep with me… Your body is warm and soft…"
Mirna took a few seconds to respond. When she did, her voice was gentle but firm:
"My lady… you need rest. I'll be right here."
I opened my eyes and slowly turned my face toward her. The soft light from the magical fireplace traced the generous curves of her body beneath the dark fabric of her robe — the cloth clung to her full breasts, to the narrow waist that widened into broad, lush hips. She looked sculpted in silence, a maternal and protective figure, yet undeniably sensual.
"Please," I murmured, even softer. "Just for tonight…"
Mirna hesitated a moment longer. Then, with a calm motion, she rose from the chair. The way she moved was graceful and controlled, but there was no missing the firmness of her thighs beneath the fabric, or the subtle, natural sway of her hips. There was something comforting, almost hypnotic, about her physical presence — a strong, nurturing femininity, understated but impossible to ignore.
She approached the bed and gently pulled back the blanket before lying down beside me. The mattress dipped slightly under her weight, and the warmth of her body quickly filled the empty space between us. I felt her arm wrap around me with tenderness, pulling me closer, as she used to when I woke crying in the middle of the night.
I nestled my face into her shoulder, breathing in the faint scent of flowers and herbs that always clung to her.
"Thank you, Mirna…" I whispered, my voice muffled.
Mirna didn't answer immediately. She simply stroked my hair with long, warm fingers in a slow, soothing rhythm.
"You're safe now, my lady," she murmured, in a voice so low it seemed made to lull dreams. "And tomorrow… tomorrow will be easier than today."
I closed my eyes. I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe that my fragile body would endure the journey, that I would find the ingredients, that I would save myself… and Aaron. But in that moment, all I needed was that warmth, that care.
"Do you think he's… still waiting for me?" I asked, my voice barely audible in the silence.
Mirna didn't answer right away. I felt her breath catch for just a second.
"I think he believes in you," she said at last. "Even now."
A lump formed in my throat. The pain of missing him was like a thin, constant blade — and yet there was comfort in her words. As if each one carried a bit of the faith I couldn't hold onto myself.
"You've always protected me, Mirna."
"And I always will."
"Even if I get lost?"
"Especially if you get lost."
She tightened her embrace, wrapping my small body in hers, and suddenly, it felt like nothing in the world could hurt me.
Sleep came slowly. Like a misted veil. And just before it fully claimed me, I thought I heard Aaron's voice — warm, distant, like a whisper in the wind:
"I'm waiting for you, sister."
I smiled, even with my eyes closed.
I won't give up.
For you, big brother… I'll go to the end.
And so, I slept peacefully, with no worries or fear, knowing I was safe in Mirna's arms.
---
The next day.
The soft smell of warm coffee was the first thing that woke me.
My eyes opened slowly, still heavy with sleep. The light filtering through the window was pale but steady — dawn in Grenthel was gray, cold… and alive. I turned my face slowly on the pillow, my body still tired, but less sore than the night before.
Mirna was there.
Sitting by the bed, wearing a dark robe that revealed part of her shoulders and the generous outline of her chest. Her graying hair was tied in a low bun, and her delicate hands held a silver tray with a steaming porcelain cup, a small buttered roll, and precisely cut fruit.
She watched me with a gentle, serene smile, as if just seeing me awake was reason enough for joy.
"Good morning, my lady," she said in her sweet voice. "Breakfast is ready."
I blinked a few times, brushing the sleep from my eyes. The memories of the previous day returned in fragments: the Tower, Grenthel, Kale… Aaron's statue… and finally, Mirna, lying beside me, warming my body and soul with her presence.
"You… have you been up long?" I murmured, sitting up slowly, pulling the blanket to my lap.
"Not long. I wanted to let you rest a little more. You're still pale." She extended the tray to me with the same care she had always shown since I was little. "Eat at least a bit. You'll need your strength today."
I took the cup with both hands, feeling the comforting warmth of the ceramic. I sipped slowly. Bitter, strong… just the way I liked it.
"Thank you, Mirna," I said, looking at her. "For yesterday… for everything."
She leaned slightly and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. The gesture was so natural, so intimate, it nearly made me cry again.
"You're part of my world, Elisa. You always have been. And now… it's time to care for you."
I nodded slowly. The taste of the coffee seemed stronger with her words. I ate the bread in silence, savoring every bite. Mirna just watched me, as if each bite was a small victory.
When I finished, I set the tray aside and took a deep breath. "Have you seen the group?"
She nodded. "Kale is already training in the courtyard. Silas is in his room complaining about the cold. Thalya went up to the bell tower to watch the city. And Dorn… Dorn is cleaning his axe with the patience of a monk."
I couldn't help a small smile. "They're… different."
"But strong. And united, even if they deny it with words."
I remained silent for a moment, staring at my hands on my lap. Nervousness hit me again, like a cold wave in my chest.
"Do you think I'll really be able to lead them?"
Mirna took my hand and squeezed it gently.
"You don't need to be perfect, Elisa. You just need to keep going."
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.
The journey began now. And I couldn't turn back anymore.
"Let's begin, then."
Mirna rose with a nod and went to the wooden wardrobe to get my clothes. The day hadn't truly started yet — but it was already time to get up.
She chose a simple, functional dress for me, made of thick gray-blue fabric, with long sleeves and a high collar — discreet, yet elegant enough to not seem out of place among the church's nobles.
She helped me dress with care, her warm fingers fastening each button gently. At times, she adjusted my silver hair with the tenderness of someone handling delicate porcelain. I didn't protest — part of me still craved those moments where I could lean entirely on her.
"Is it comfortable?" she asked, tilting her head to assess my appearance.
"Yes," I murmured. "Thank you, Mirna."
She nodded, satisfied, and opened the door with an inviting gesture.
We walked together down hallways lit by magical chandeliers. The church was silent, except for the distant echoes of prayers and the rhythmic steps of clerics on duty. The cold still lingered, but there was something comforting in the solidity of the white stone walls.
The breakfast hall was in a smaller wing, with tall windows letting in the pale morning light. A long table was already set with bread, cheese, fruit, hot milk, and dark tea. The group was already there, each at their own pace.
Kale was leaning back in her chair with a piece of bread in her mouth and one leg crossed, sharp and suspicious as always. Silas stirred sugar into his tea while muttering about the food's taste. Thalya, standing by the window, nibbled an apple with narrowed eyes, observing everything in silence. Dorn ate with slow, methodical movements — his presence immense and unmoving, like a living rock.
They all looked at me the moment I entered, and for a second, my stomach tightened. But I kept my composure, sitting beside Mirna at the end of the table. I took a slice of bread, more to have something in my hands than from hunger.
The silence stretched for a few seconds.
I decided to break it.
"I wanted to know something," I began, trying to keep my voice steady. "If it's not a bother… Why did you choose to become mercenaries?"
Silas was the first to answer, with an easy smile and bright eyes.
"Oh, that's a good one." He leaned over the table. "I studied at the Arcane Academy of Velarion. Top of the class, standout in conjuration and runic theorems… But what I really loved were barriers. Not standard shields — I mean grand constructs. Magical structures capable of shaping the world."
"Like what Aaron did," I murmured to myself. "The world barrier."
Silas smiled, pleased.
"Exactly. He created a barrier that separates the continent of dragons, elves, and orcs from the rest of the world — and no one's been able to replicate it to this day. Ever since I learned that, I dropped everything to pursue that passion. I don't want fame or glory. I want to understand. I want to touch that kind of power."
I nodded in silence, hiding the bitter sting in my chest.
I wanted to study in Velarion too. I wanted to enter that same academy. But I couldn't. Pureblood mages didn't accept non-mages. And I… was never more than a "lucky alchemist" to them.
I turned to look at Thalya, who was still chewing slowly, as if deciding whether to answer. When she spoke, it was in a low, serene, yet firm voice:
"I left my forest because I want to be like Aaron. A legendary archer."
There was a brief silence. Thalya bit into her apple again and then, without a hint of shame, added:
"I want to have sex with him too."
Silas choked on his tea. Kale stifled a laugh. Dorn merely raised an eyebrow, saying nothing.
"Thalya…" I murmured, embarrassed, but she just shrugged, as if she'd said something as ordinary as the weather.
"If he shows up, I won't miss my chance."
"He's dead," Kale said flatly.
Thalya looked at her with narrowed eyes. "And you know as well as I do that doesn't mean anything in this world."
A shiver ran down my spine.
Thalya wasn't joking. Not for a second.
"…Right," I murmured, trying to regain control. "And you, Dorn?"
The giant with golden eyes took a few seconds before answering. His voice, when it came, was deep like contained thunder.
"I want to be a wall. Like Aaron was. When he was on the battlefield… no one was afraid. Because they knew no one would die while he was there."
I closed my eyes for a moment.
Aaron, always him.
Like a star everyone still tries to reach. He inspired them. Even if many never knew him. Even if the whole world lost him.
My voice trembled as I looked at Kale. "And you?"
She stopped chewing. Looked at me for a few seconds. Her red eyes were like blades — deep and unreadable.
"None of your business," she replied bluntly.
The silence fell like a stone in the middle of the table.
"I see…" I murmured, looking away.
But deep down, I wasn't surprised.
Kale had a cold, intimidating personality. So that answer wasn't unexpected.
Mirna discreetly leaned in and placed a slice of fruit on my plate, encouraging me to eat more.
I thanked her with a glance.
We weren't a united group yet. Not even close.
But each of them had a reason to be there. And even if they were different, suspicious… or absurdly direct… they were with me.
And that made me happy. At least I wouldn't be alone on this adventure.