Night settled over Nathan's homestead, and a single oil lamp burned in the small cottage Darius and Favian shared. Its warm glow threw long shadows across the wooden walls.
Favian sat on the edge of his bed with elbows on his knees, rubbing his temples as though the day's events had carved lines into his skull.
"We may have made a mistake staying here," he said at last. "A Valiant so close to Nathan's family… that is a danger we did not account for. I thought we could lie low in Sadnon, but I may have overestimated us."
Darius, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling, let out a slow breath. "I keep thinking about Meredith," he admitted quietly. "I can't believe she's marrying a Valiant."
Favian turned his head sharply, then smirked, though his eyes remained troubled.
"Is that truly what disappoints you?" he asked. "That she's marrying a Valiant, or that she's not marrying you instead?"
Darius let out a startled laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Perhaps both," he confessed. "She's… kind. And Karev… he seems like a good man."
Favian's smirk faded as he leaned forward.
"Good man or not, we cannot afford to let ourselves be lulled. Smiles and friendly words are luxuries we cannot trust. For all we know, coming here… helping Nathan… meeting Meredith… even meeting Karev…" He inhaled through his teeth. "It could all be a carefully woven trap."
Darius turned to face him, the humour draining from his face.
Favian continued, "One misstep, Kriger, and we could be the ones dragged through that market in chains."
As soon as the words left Favian's lips, a sharp knock echoed from the main house where Nathan and his family slept.
Both young men froze.
The noise echoed in the quiet night. Darius sat up at once, his hand drifting instinctively toward his belt. Favian, already tense, raised one finger into the air— a silent command for absolute stillness.
Voices drifted faintly outside. More than one. Nathan's voice among them, strained and hurried. Another murmur followed, too low to make sense of, then the thud of several footsteps crossing the yard.
The footsteps were coming toward their cottage.
Darius felt his heartbeat rise into his throat. Favian moved without a word, his hand sweeping out. In a breath of glowing light, both young men summoned their blades. Both steels glimmered in the dim lamplight, drawn ready.
Then, a violent bang shook their door.
Darius tightened his grip until his knuckles whitened. Favian stepped forward, sword angled low, though his voice remained steady as he called:
"Who is it?"
Nathan answered at once, breathless and uneasy.
"It's me, Nathan. Please, open up. There's… there's an important matter we must speak of."
Favian hesitated only long enough to exchange a sharp, calculating glance with Darius. The tension in the air thickened.
He gestured quickly with two taps to his own chest, then toward the door.
Stay behind it. Sword ready. If anything happens, strike.
Darius nodded, slipping into the shadowed corner beside the doorframe. He raised his blade in silence, every muscle coiled and awaiting the slightest wrong move.
Favian placed his free hand on the latch, holding his breath.
He cast Favian a quick look, then extended his own blade toward him.
"Take this," he whispered. Nathan must not see two summoned weapons.
Darius frowned with hesitation. In his mind he wondered if I touch it… won't it bind to me? Won't it become mine?
Favian gave a quiet, exasperated snort that seemed to say. Not tonight. We have no time for that nonsense.
Before Darius could argue further, Favian pushed the weapon into his hand. The steel settled against Darius's palm, and nothing happened. No flash of light. No pull into his armory.
He stared at it, bewildered. Why did it not vanish? Why did it not claim him?
But there was no time to ponder. Footsteps paused outside their door.
Favian placed one hand upon the latch. He inhaled once, then pulled the door open.
Nathan stood there with his face pale and worried. His breathing was uneven, and behind him the lamps of the main house flashed nervously.
"Favian," Nathan said with his voice trembling slightly. "Thank the heavens you're awake. My cousin's boy… he's gone missing. Went out earlier in the evening and hasn't returned. We need every capable hand to search for him."
The concern in his voice was genuine.
Favian softened his face. "I'm sorry, Nathan. Truly. We'll join you outside in a moment."
Nathan nodded gratefully, though the fear in his eyes did not fade. "Thank you. We're gathering at the well."
He turned and hurried back toward the lights, his footsteps crunching anxiously through the gravel.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Favian shut the door.
Darius lowered the second sword, staring at it once more… confused.
Darius glanced around to ensure no one was listening, then leaned closer to Favian.
'Why didn't the weapon disappear into my armoury?' he whispered.
Favian dismissed the question with a quiet breath. 'Because I'm not dead, and I haven't willingly transferred ownership to you. I only asked you to hold it. A Truther's possession doesn't change hands unless the owner wills it— or the owner dies.'
He paused before adding, 'The Revelation Stone is the only thing capable of overriding that. It's the only artefact that can seize a Truther's possession without consent.'
Understanding settled on Darius' face.
A faint glow creased over their weapons as both men dismissed them, the steel dissolving into nothingness. Without another word, they reached for the warm clothes laid out on the bench. Thick cloaks, fur-lined gloves, and heavy boots, preparing themselves for the cold outside.
Outside stood Meredith and her parents, along with two other men, each holding a flaming torch. One was middle-aged, shoulders broad beneath a worn leather coat. The other, standing just behind him, was a younger man no older than Darius, holding an anxious expression.
Nathan stepped forward. 'Favian, this is my cousin, Jeremy,' he said, gesturing to the older man. 'And this is his son, Anthon.'
Jeremy gave a stiff nod, gripping his torch as though afraid the wind might steal it. 'It's our youngest,' he said, voice strained. 'Sixteen years old. The boy… he wandered off in the middle of the night. No reason. No warning. He's never acted like that before.' Jeremy exhaled shakily. 'We fear he's lost himself in the woods.'
Favian softened his tone. 'It's all right. Kriger and I will go with you. We'll help find him.'
Jeremy's shoulders lowered, as though the words offered a moment's reprieve from dread.
Behind them, Meredith lingered a step away from her mother, arms folded tightly over her chest. Her wide eyes flicked to Darius, then quickly away again. The moment Nathan motioned for the group to move, Meredith and her mother turned back towards their house, retreating inside and shutting the door behind them.
The rest of them set out into the night, the two torches bobbing like wandering stars as they made for the edge of the woods. The cold air bit at their cheeks, and the wind carried the faint rustle of branches.
They walked for several minutes before the dark line of trees, swallowed them whole.
Jeremy cupped his free hand around his mouth. 'Oliver!' he called and his voice echoed between the trees.
Nathan did the same. 'Oliver! Can you hear us?'
Their shouts faded into the night without response.
Darius and Favian kept several paces behind, scanning every shifting shadow and thicket. Nothing felt right. Every movement in the bush, set their nerves on edge. Favian's eyes darted between the trees; Darius' fingers brushed the air where his blade would appear at a thought.
They pushed deeper into the woods until Jeremy halted, raising his torch.
'Look,' he said.
On a patch of muddied ground lay clear sandal prints, fresh. Favian crouched, running a hand just above the impression.
'At least we know where he walked,' Nathan murmured.
They followed the prints through winding undergrowth for several moments, until Favian suddenly stopped again. The others crowded in behind him.
The trail had split.
Two sets of identical footprints branched off in opposite directions— one veering left, the other right.
'That's… impossible,' Anthon whispered, his voice trembling. 'He's just one boy.'
Jeremy's breath hitched. 'What does this mean?'
Favian rose slowly. 'I don't know yet. But we cannot ignore either path.' He reached towards Anthon. 'Let me take your torch. Kriger and I will follow the trail to the right.'
Anthon handed it over with visible reluctance.
Darius glanced at the three family members. 'If any of us see anything, or run into trouble, we shout. As loud as we can.'
Jeremy nodded firmly. Nathan swallowed hard. Anthon looked between the two paths, as though wishing neither existed.
With that unspoken fear settling among them, the group split in two, parting in opposite directions.