The days of training began to blend.
For Aren, time started to split into shifts, orders, and study. The training remained relentless, but now it was paired with small real tasks: minor guard duties, access checks, and internal patrols. All of them were supervised by Sir Kaelreth.
However, that morning would be different.
"Today we're going into the city," the knight said as he adjusted the straps of his armor. "You will learn how to move and react within a crowd."
Aren nodded unquestionably.
Leaving the fortress with the provisional squire emblem on his chest felt different. It was not freedom, but it was not confinement either. The city unfolded before them at a faster pace than usual: crowded streets, merchants shouting their offers, pilgrims wearing religious symbols around their necks, and guards working double shifts.
Aren noticed the difference immediately.
"It seems like there are many people today," he remarked.
"And there will be even more," Kaelreth replied without looking at him. "The presentation of the saint candidate is in a few days."
The name lingered in the air, heavy with meaning.
"The candidate…?" Aren repeated.
Kaelreth nodded.
"A blessed one recognized by the churches of Alfi and Zori. To the faithful, she is a living miracle. To us…" he made a vague gesture. "…the perfect excuse for thieves, fanatics, and opportunists to mix into the crowd."
As they moved forward, Aren began to hear the murmurs of the people, all of them talking about the event and the candidate.
"They say she heals just by touching you…"
"I heard she's just a young girl…"
"She must be special if both churches support her…"
He could not help but remember the day he met Lylia, when the banners of those two churches escorted the carriage.
'Could it be possible that she is…?'
"Do not get distracted, Valenfort."
The knight's voice pulled Aren out of his thoughts.
"Sorry, sir," Aren said, lowering his head. "I was distracted by the crowd."
"That is precisely what you must avoid," Kaelreth replied, rubbing his temple.
"How many knights will be needed to guard the entire event?" Aren asked, confused.
"In cases like this, the paladins will secure the event itself."
Aren nodded, absorbing every word.
"We maintain order in the city and prevent everything from turning into chaos," Kaelreth continued.
That was when a shout and the sound of wooden crates crashing broke the constant murmur of the market.
"Thief! Stop him!"
A small boy ran through the crowd, his face dirty and his eyes wide with fear. Behind him, a furious merchant pushed people aside as he chased him.
Chaos spread in seconds, until the boy tripped and rolled across the ground.
"Valenfort," Kaelreth ordered. "Right flank."
Aren reacted without thinking.
He stepped forward, blocking the merchant just as the man tried to grab the boy, who was clutching his leg with a pained grimace.
"Stop!" Aren ordered. "Calm down."
"That brat stole from me!" the man spat. "Let me pass or I'll report you!"
Before the situation could escalate further, a figure wrapped in a dark cloak stepped between them.
"It wasn't him."
The voice was firm and clear, yet gentle. A woman's voice.
Aren froze for a second.
The figure lifted her head slightly. The hood hid most of her face, but Aren caught sight of light-colored eyes, alert, filled with calm determination.
"I saw it," the woman continued. "The boy only picked up something that fell to the ground. The real thief already fled."
"And who are you?" the merchant growled, stepping forward and shoving Aren, trying to impose himself.
Before Aren could respond, Kaelreth stepped in.
"That's enough," he said with authority. "Step back."
The merchant hesitated before the knight's presence.
"Do you have proof of what you say?" Kaelreth asked, looking at the boy and then at the hooded woman.
"No," she replied without hesitation. "But if you check his bag, you'll see he has nothing."
Kaelreth gestured. Aren obeyed, checking carefully. There was nothing except a few personal belongings.
"All clear," Aren said with a relieved sigh.
"Leave," Kaelreth ordered. "Both of you."
The boy did not need to be told twice. He ran a few steps before collapsing again because of the injury in his leg.
The woman knelt in front of him, smiling gently.
"Come," she whispered.
Aren watched, intrigued, as she placed a hand over the boy's injured knee. She murmured a few almost inaudible words, and a soft, warm light wrapped around the wound.
A chill ran down Aren's spine.
"May the blessing of Alfi and Zori always be with you," she added softly, touching the boy's forehead.
Aren's world stopped.
The tone and the words dragged a memory to the surface of his mind.
He remembered the courtyard of the mansion, his own scraped knee, and Lylia—nervous, eyes closed—repeating the same gesture.
"May the blessing of Alfi and Zori always be with you."
'If it really was you… why did you run away?' he thought.
"Valenfort!"
Kaelreth's voice broke the spell.
"Yes, sir," Aren replied automatically.
When he looked back to where the woman had been kneeling…
There was no one there.
Only the crowd, as if she had never been there at all.
Aren stood still, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Do you realize we still have a thief to find?" Kaelreth asked, watching him closely.
Aren nodded slowly.
"Yes, sir. I won't get distracted again."
"That's the second time. One more and I'll send you to clean latrines," the knight said firmly.
Aren nodded, and in silence they continued the patrol.
But Aren no longer heard the sounds of the city.
His mind was trapped on a name he did not dare to speak.
—
From a distance, hidden among cloaks and shadows, the hooded young woman paused for a moment.
Hearing that surname had caught her off guard.
Valenfort.
Her breathing faltered.
"Aren…" she murmured, a faint smile forming on her lips. "I see you didn't forget your promise."
For a second, she almost turned back. Almost called out to him and confirmed what her heart already knew.
But she didn't.
It wasn't the right time.
She adjusted her cloak and disappeared into the crowd.