The door creaked as Aros leaned against the frame, watching the light fade across Bondrea. The city looked quieter from there, as if the sea itself held its breath. A thin mist had rolled in from the docks, settling over the rooftops in soft, wavering sheets.
Inside, voices murmured, the clinking of metal, Digiera giving orders in her dry, mocking tone, but Aros barely heard them. His mind was still in that room, still turning over the same thought he'd carried for years: rebellion never ended, it only changed its name.
He had seen what followed revolution: new banners, same graves.
Footsteps sounded behind him. Diana came out, pulling her sleeves down over her wrists."You've been staring at nothing for an hour," she said. "That usually means something."
He didn't look at her. "They want me to fight again."
"Who's they?"
"Gustave Chiantere, he's a friend of mine. And Alexander of Dromo."
Her eyebrows lifted slightly. "The noble? The brother of Valeo?"
"He says he's gathering the rebellion. Claims he has men in every port, waiting for the right moment."
Diana crossed her arms. "And you don't believe him."
Aros finally turned. "I believe him," he said quietly. "That's the problem."
She studied him for a moment. "I don't know Alexander," she admitted, "but I do know Talon. If he's helping him, then maybe it's not just talk. He's a good man. His people too."
"Good men," Aros said, "turn fast when they think they're on the right side."
Diana smiled faintly. "That's a rather cynical way to stay alive."
"I don't trust anyone who speaks of freedom with a straight face." He paused, then added, "And I killed Alexander's brother. You tell me why he's so eager to have me at his table."
She raised an eyebrow. "That's not exactly surprising. You're the Kingslayer. Half the rebels still whisper your name like it's a song...Or maybe he doesn't care what you did. People like him don't mourn the dead; they inherit them."
He gave her a sidelong look, half surprised. "You sound like someone who's been around nobles before."
She smiled faintly. "I've been around men who think they can change the world. It's the same thing."
Aros turned back to the fog. "The world doesn't change. It just grows quieter between wars."
Before she could reply, the door opened again. The sound of boots against wood. Alexander stepped out, his cloak thrown over one shoulder, Gustave trailing behind him like a shadow of civility.
"Leaving already?" Diana asked.
"Business calls," Alexander said easily. "The kind that doesn't wait for night to fall." He gave her a courteous nod. "Miss Diana, was it? A pleasure."
"Likewise," she said, though her tone held more curiosity than warmth.
Alexander turned to Aros. "I wanted a word before I go."
Aros didn't move. "You've already said enough."
"Maybe," said Alexander, "but you haven't." He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You think I don't know what you're afraid of. That this will end the same way Vallares did. That the fire will take everything again."
Aros' jaw tightened. "You talk too easily about things you don't understand."
Alexander's smile was small, but not cruel. "We all day at one time or another, don't we? You, of all people, should know that."
Something flickered behind Aros' eyes, disgust, maybe, or memory, but he said nothing.
Alexander continued, his tone calm. "You see monsters in every man who wants change, but monsters don't build anything. I'm not asking you to fight, Aros. Just to watch. To see that this time, it doesn't have to end in fire."
"You think the Light will let you live long enough to prove that?"
"I think it already has," Alexander said. "I'm meeting Jacobo tomorrow. The High Father himself. He doesn't know what I truly intend, of course, but he will. When the time comes."
Aros studied him for a moment. "You'll be dead before you finish your speech."
Alexander only smiled again, as if death were a distant friend. "We'll see." He turned to go, tightening his cloak around his shoulders. "If you change your mind, you'll know where to find me."
Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "And Aros… try not to bury yourself before anyone else does."
He left with Gustave, disappearing into the fog.
Diana watched them vanish. "He's strange," she said. "Too calm for someone who wants a war."
Diana remained beside him after Alexander disappeared into the fog.For a while, neither spoke. The mist pressed closer to the doorframe, coiling in lazy threads around their boots.
Diana broke the silence first."Doesn't it mean anything to you?" she asked. "A noble like that, asking you personally to join him? I'd say most people would feel honored."
Aros gave a quiet, bitter sound that could have been a laugh. "Honor is just another way of saying useful."He turned his gaze toward the street. "I don't need to feel honored to recognize a man who hides steel behind manners."
"So you think he's dangerous?"
"I think everyone is," Aros said. "But him most of all."
Before Diana could reply, footsteps echoed down the narrow alley. Heavy ones first, deliberate, followed by lighter steps that hesitated before each puddle. Aros turned, already knowing who it was.
Candriela appeared first from the fog, her massive frame half-silhouetted against the pale light. Behind her came Gemma, her cloak soaked through, strands of hair plastered against her face.
Aros stepped forward before he could stop himself. "Gemma."
She lifted her eyes to him: flat, distant, as if she hadn't quite returned from wherever she had been. Her skin looked different, paler somehow, and when the lantern light caught her irises they shimmered faintly, almost metallic.
He reached for her and pulled her into an awkward embrace. His arms felt rigid around her small frame, like he'd forgotten how to do it. For a heartbeat she didn't react at all; then she blinked slowly, her hands limp at her sides.
When he let go, she only said, "I'm fine."
He didn't believe it.
Candriela stood a few steps behind, watching with that same impassive stare. "It's done," she said simply.
Aros turned to her. "What did you make her do?"
Candriela's expression didn't change. "What she was meant to."
Before the tension could thicken, Diana approached Gemma, crouching a little to meet her eyes. "Hey," she said softly. "You look exhausted. Whatever it was, you did well, all right?"
Gemma nodded faintly but didn't answer. Her eyes flicked toward Aros, then back to the ground.
The air in the street shifted suddenly, like the city itself had drawn a breath. Then came the first toll.
A single bell.Then another.And another.
Each one louder, sharper, echoing across the harbor.
Aros straightened. "The bells."
Candriela's hand went to her sword. "That's not the curfew call."
Diana's face paled. "It's an alarm."
The door behind them swung open. Digiera leaned out, her usual smirk curling on her lips, though her eyes were alert. "Well, congratulations," she said dryly. "You've managed to survive three hours in Bondrea before getting the whole city's attention. A new record."
No one replied.
She sighed, gesturing impatiently toward the interior. "Inside. All of you. If the bells are ringing at this hour, it means the Priesthood finally found our pretty little nest."
Gemma flinched at the word Priesthood. The faint shimmer beneath her skin pulsed once.
Aros looked at her, then at Digiera. "How long do we have?"
Digiera smirked. "Long enough to regret asking questions. Move."
The bells continued their hollow song as they stepped inside, each toll rolling through the fog like thunder trying to find its echo.