The halls of Throneforge echoed with quiet.
Not the quiet of absence — but of held breath.
Somewhere deep above, the forge roared still, stoked by dwarfsteel and fire-runes, but Rei barely heard it. His steps followed Durik, boots clicking against polished obsidian, as guards watched from the shadows.
Kaia walked at his side. Ever-vigilant. Her hand near her blade, though her shoulders were relaxed.
Rei had said nothing since the king's summons came.
Only one word when the priest delivered the message:
"The Wildguard waits."
Now, he could feel it.
Not pressure — not fear.
Something older.
Recognition.
They passed through a long corridor flanked by stone-carved roots, each etched with ancient dwarven script. At its end, an open chamber flared with torchlight, and thirteen shapes waited like shadows made flesh.
The Wildguard.
Cloaks of bark-brown and forest-green. Armor of living vinesteel. Their helms, carved like antlers, masked their features.
All save one.
Captain Ilyari, her helm tucked under her arm, stepped forward as Rei entered. Her pale eyes scanned him — not judgmental, but… measuring.
Rei halted before them, his posture upright, though the flicker of tension in his neck did not go unnoticed by Kaia.
Durik stood at Rei's shoulder now, arms crossed, clearly uneasy.
Ilyari inclined her head.
"Riftborn," she said, voice soft as fallen leaves. "You come without chains. That speaks well of your king."
Rei blinked. "He's not mine."
The faintest smile touched her lips. "Even better."
A beat.
Then:
"Why are you here?" Rei asked.
Ilyari did not answer immediately.
Instead, she approached him — slow, deliberate. She stopped only when a breath separated them.
Then she reached into a pouch at her side and pulled out a small crystal — not glowing, but pulsing faintly, like a seed before the storm.
She held it up between them.
"This is Lira's Seed. It blooms once every hundred years. Only when the forest senses a soul lost to itself."
Rei stared at it.
"It's meant to steady you," Ilyari said. "To remind your heart of where it begins. Not where the Rift wants to drag it."
Rei's jaw tightened. "You came all this way… to give me a flower?"
Kaia shifted. Durik snorted.
Ilyari smiled faintly. "No."
She stepped back and returned the seed to her pouch.
"We came because the forest dreams of flame again. Of a mountain breaking. Of fire made will." Her voice quieted. "We came to stand beside the Riftborn… before he becomes something else."
Rei met her gaze.
"And if I do?"
"Then we will be the first to stand in your way."
The moment held.
Then Rei exhaled, long and low. He glanced to Kaia — her nod was near invisible. Then to Durik, who frowned but gave a grunt of reluctant agreement.
"Fine," Rei said. "Talk."
They sat.
Not in chairs, but on stone-carved roots and scattered pelts brought in by the elves. No servants, no banners — only a circle of strangers, and in its center, a boy with the Rift behind his ribs.
Rei listened.
Ilyari told of the forest's dream — not a vision, but a memory awakened. Of the First Riftborn, who had nearly torn the Veil. Of the Wyrm's roar. Of Mongrim forging the pact beneath the mountain.
She did not name Baphomette.
But Rei saw his shadow behind her words.
He didn't interrupt.
Only once did he speak.
"When the time comes… if I can't hold it back. What will you do?"
Ilyari answered without pause.
"We'll help you fight it."
"And if I lose?"
The Wildguard did not shift. Did not blink.
"Then we will bury you deep. Where roots grow strongest."
Kaia's hand found Rei's briefly — just a brush of warmth.
Durik sighed. "Comforting."
When the Wildguard rose, the circle unbroken, Captain Ilyari stepped toward Rei again.
She handed him the seed.
"You don't have to walk with us. But don't walk alone."
Rei stared at it for a long time.
Then pocketed it.
As they left, Kaia murmured, "They're not what I expected."
"No," Rei said. "They're worse."
"Worse?"
He looked toward the forges above.
"They believe in me."