(Before the End, I Returned)
Chapter 7
(Ardenfall)
Morning reached Ardenfall before it reached Heir Doom.
Pryan noticed it every time.
He stood near the window longer than he needed to, watching the city stretch awake. Thin smoke rose from chimneys in uneven lines. Bells rang once, then again, not loud, not celebratory. Just enough to remind people that the day had begun. Doors opened. Footsteps gathered. Life resumed its quiet motion.
"This again."
Lina's voice came from behind him, familiar and unrestrained.
"You'll make yourself sick one day if you keep staring out like that," she said, crossing the room with practiced ease. She reached for his cloak before he could. "And don't argue. You always do."
"I wasn't going to," Pryan replied.
She gave him a look that said she did not believe him in the slightest and draped the cloak over his shoulders anyway, tugging it straight.
"You're going into the city," Lina said, more statement than question. "Mera's already waiting."
Pryan nodded.
Lina paused, hands resting briefly on his shoulders. Not a gesture of formality. Just habit.
"Don't wander off," she said. "And don't forget to eat. I'll know if you do."
"You always do," he said.
"That's because you're terrible at lying."
She stepped back, satisfied, and waved him off with a flick of her wrist. "Go. Before I find something else to complain about."
Mera waited at the lower hall, basket in hand, posture straight and composed. Where Lina moved like the palace belonged to her, Mera still carried herself as if she were being tested.
"Good morning, my lord," she said, bowing slightly.
"Morning," Pryan replied.
They left together, passing through the gates and down into Ardenfall as the streets grew busier.
The Oldstone Quarter was already alive.
The streets there were narrow, stone worn smooth by generations of use. Some slabs sat lower than others, collecting rainwater that reflected broken pieces of sky. Buildings leaned inward, close enough that voices carried easily from one side to the other.
Mera walked beside him, not behind. Close enough to guide, far enough to give space.
A baker pulled loaves from a brick oven, heat and steam spilling into the street.
"Morning, young lord," the man called.
Pryan inclined his head. "Morning."
The baker grinned, wide and unguarded, and went back to his work.
Children ran past them, laughter echoing between the buildings. One nearly collided with Pryan before skidding to a stop.
"Sorry!" the child blurted out.
Pryan blinked, then nodded. "It's fine."
The child stared at him for a second, then ran off again.
Mera watched quietly. "They're comfortable around you," she said.
"They shouldn't be," Pryan replied.
She considered that, then shook her head slightly. "They are anyway."
They paused near a small shrine built into a wall. Fresh flowers rested at its base. The stone around it had been swept clean.
Pryan stopped without realizing it.
Mera did not rush him.
The river divided Ardenfall in two, wide and slow-moving. Rivergate District buzzed with motion. Carts rolled across the bridge, wheels creaking under weight. Fishermen hauled nets from the water, hands red and raw. Merchants argued loudly over prices that would not change.
The smell here was heavier. Water. Wood. Salt. Iron.
Pryan rested his hands on the stone railing.
In the future he remembered, this river had run dark.
He pushed the thought away and watched dockworkers unload crates instead. Their movements were practiced, precise. One mistake would cost someone a hand. Or worse.
Without thinking, Pryan adjusted his stance, redistributing his weight.
Mera noticed. She said nothing.
The training grounds lay near the outer walls.
Dust rose with every step taken there. Soldiers moved in formation, movements clean but imperfect. Sweat darkened armor. Breath came hard. No one complained.
A man stood at the center of it all.
He did not shout. He did not pace.
He watched.
Soldiers straightened when he passed. Corrections were brief. Commands were few.
Commander Halren Voss.
Pryan felt the weight of him immediately. Someone who had held lines when they should have broken.
The commander's gaze shifted.
For a brief moment, it rested on Pryan.
There was no surprise in it. No curiosity.
Only acknowledgment.
Then it moved on.
Mera lowered her voice. "That's the commander."
"I know," Pryan said.
The outer ring of Ardenfall was louder.
Farmers argued with caravan guards. A woman scolded her child. Someone laughed too loudly. Someone else looked ready to collapse where they stood. The walls loomed overhead, worn smooth by time and weather.
As they walked, people greeted Pryan. Some bowed slightly. Others waved. A few simply nodded.
He answered each one, awkward at first, then more naturally.
Mera watched him, expression unreadable.
By the time they returned to Heir Doom, the sun was high.
Lina met them at the entrance, arms crossed.
"You took long enough," she said, then glanced at Pryan's face. "You didn't forget to eat."
Mera lifted the basket slightly. "I made sure."
"Good," Lina said, satisfied. She turned to Pryan. "The city likes you too much."
Pryan did not respond.
Later, alone in his room, he looked out at Ardenfall once more.
It stood as it always had. Alive. Unaware.
He thought of the mireling. Of how easily it had existed. Of how easily it had vanished.
The city did not know how close it had come to ending once.
And it did not need to.
Not yet.
The academy waited ahead. New rules. New eyes.
But Ardenfall remained behind him.
And this time, he would not let it disappear quietly.