Daln stood at the entrance, standing tall, his frame silhouetted by the dim light from behind him. His expression was unreadable, but the way his posture remained tense, alert, suggested he was ready for anything. His eyes locked onto Thalria, and for a moment, the room seemed to shrink.
Thalria’s gaze met his, unflinchingly. There was no hesitation, no fear in her eyes—only a calm, unwavering intensity. The air between them seemed to thicken, as though the room itself was holding its breath. Daln didn’t look away, his sharp eyes studying her, searching for something.
The silence stretched on, like a long, empty road with no end in sight. She felt the weight of his scrutiny, but it did nothing to unsettle her. She had faced far worse in her life than this.
Finally, Daln’s lips curled into something that might have been a smirk, though it was hard to tell from where he stood. “Easy there, princess,” his voice carried across the space. “You’re going to burn a hole right through me with that stare.”
Thalria blinked, momentarily caught off guard. The amusement in his voice was unexpected.
“I’ve got a pretty good read on you to guess what’s running through your mind right now…” Daln said, his tone steady. “But just to ease your mind, I don’t care.”
Thalria’s gaze tightened as she processed his words, the subtle edge of concern creeping into her expression. “You don’t care?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.
Daln gave a half-shrug, the stoic edge of his face betraying nothing.“I’ve got enough trouble with my own name,” he said, his tone unwavering. “I don’t have the energy to worry about yours.”
Juno, who had been quiet up until that point, blinked in confusion and stepped forward. “What’s wrong with Thalria’s name?” She asked, her tone curious.
Daln’s gaze shifted toward Juno, his expression unreadable, before it softened just slightly. “Nothing wrong with it,” Daln said, his voice low, almost thoughtful. “Just that names can carry more than what’s on the surface. They’re heavy, sometimes.”
Juno scrunched her nose. “I don’t get it.”
Daln sighed softly, his gaze flickering downwards for a second before returning to Juno. “And I hope you never have to,” he replied, his voice holding a quiet finality. He didn’t offer more, the weight of his words hanging in the air.
The room fell into a heavy silence, thick with things left unsaid. Juno, still confused, glanced back and forth between them, but Thalria remained silent, unsure of what to say.
Daln took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as the moment lingered. He straightened up, pushing the heaviness aside.
“Well,” he said, breaking the silence. “Now that we’re done with that, what are you going to do next?”
“What do you mean?” Thalria asked, her voice steady.
Daln’s lips curved into a small grin. “Not sure if you know this or not… but after the show you put on against that monster…” he let the words hang in the air for a beat. “Seems like you’ve made quite an impression.”
Daln’s expression grew more serious, his grin fading into a knowing look. “People have seen you. They know about you,” he continued, his tone firm, almost like a warning. “Now, I know you have your secrets—we all do, but you can’t hide this one, not any longer.”
“What are you saying?” she asked, her voice lower now, a mixture of caution and uncertainty creeping in.
Daln tilted his head slightly, watching her with a piercing gaze. “You’ve drawn attention. Eyes are on you, whether you want it or not."
Thalria felt her chest tighten, but she forced herself to hold steady. She had kept her abilities—her identity—hidden for so long, but now it was clear she could never go back to how things were.
‘It was childish of me to think I could survive in this world—or maybe even escape—while holding back.’ The thought struck her with an almost physical force. For so long, she’d believed she could slip through the cracks, that she could stay unnoticed, waiting, until the time was right.
Daln’s voice broke through her thoughts, sharp and unwavering. “I won’t pretend to understand everything you’ve been through… or the dangers that lie ahead for you,” he said, his gaze steady. “But the truth is, the sooner you face what’s happened, the better equipped you’ll be to handle whatever comes next.”
Thalria sat frozen for a moment, her thoughts swirling. "I can''t keep hiding, can I?" Thalria murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. The words felt heavy, a truth she had avoided for far too long.
“No.” Daln answered simply.
Thalria let out a deep, smooth breath, steadying herself as the weight of that truth settled over her. She lifted her gaze to meet Daln’s, searching his expression for anything—pity, judgement, understanding. But his face remained unreadable, his eyes sharp and unwavering.
Her voice was steadier when she spoke again. “Then I’ll face it.” The words weren’t loud, but they held a quiet undeniable resolve.
With a sharp inhale, she pushed herself upright, refusing to acknowledge the sharp protests of her aching body.
Juno let out a squeak. “Thalria wait—!” She reached out, concern etched across her face.
Thalria lifted a hand, stopping her. “Don’t worry Juno,” she said, her voice calm despite the strain on her limbs. “I can fix myself.”
She rolled her shoulders, testing the limits of her pain, before drawing on the energy within her, willing her body to lessen its ache. A slow warmth spread through her limbs, dulling the sharp edges of her exhaustion. It wasn’t a perfect fix—the lingering strain remained—but it was enough.
“‘Water’s useful’, huh?” Daln let out a chuckle. “I knew you were hiding your power, all of you do—to an extent… but this? He gestured vaguely at her. “This is something else.”
Thalria crossed her arms. “Well, can you blame me?”
Daln studied her for a moment before shrugging. “Guess not.”
“Before we go,” Thalria began, a slight furrow in her brow, “could someone give me a quick rundown of everything that’s happened since… wait. Actually, hold on. How long exactly have I been out?”
“About a week, I think? Er.. well, I’ve been asleep seven times since then… so I guess that’s about seven days.” Juno offered, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.
‘A week!?’ A jolt of alarm shot through Thalria’s thoughts. “Seriously?” She said, looking to Daln for confirmation.
“Roughly so.” Daln confirmed with a nod.
A week. An entire week lost. She couldn’t believe she had been unconscious for so long, even considering the extent to which she had unleashed her powers. ‘But still…a week?’
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Sighing softly, her hand absently went up to scratch her head, a flicker of lingering confusion in her eyes. “And the new people… what’s been happening with them?”
Daln replied, “Once the monster was dead, the group that was running from it came out by the river. They asked to join, and since Juno thought you’d want it, I said yes.” He added, “Then we looked for a safe place for you to recover and found this cave, hidden pretty well in the woods.”
Daln went on, “Once we got this place sorted, Jovian started disappearing for a bit and then showing back up with more people. Pretty sure he’s doing that right now.” He added, “Things are going pretty smoothly, actually. Everyone’s been good, chipping in where they can. We’re getting water from the river, and food-wise… Well, you cooked up something real nice for us…”
Thalria stared blankly at Daln, thinking she’d misunderstood what he said. “You didn’t…”
For the first time, a genuine, wide smile lit up Daln’s face. “Oh, we did, princess! It’s been surprisingly good, all things considered. Though, it''s a little burnt for my taste.”
“Yeah,” Juno said, a small, genuine smile mirroring Daln’s. “It’s actually pretty good, Thalria!”
Thalria shook her head, still not quite grasping the situation. “I think… we should probably get going before I lose consciousness again.”
Daln nodded. “Fine by me, I’ll lead the way,” He started walking. Juno was already bouncing on her heels, eager, as usual, to be part of whatever came next.
Thalria followed behind Daln, her thoughts still racing. She thought about her journey so far… Counting the week she had been out, she’s been here for… fifteen days, give or take.
Fifteen days in a world she didn’t understand, surrounded by people she was just beginning to trust. It felt like a lifetime, yet she knew it was only the beginning. So much about her has changed, in such a short period of time.
She glanced ahead, where Juno was practically skipping, her joy infectious despite the circumstances. Thalria had to admit, Juno’s energy was a sharp contrast to her own. The child’s unshakable optimism seemed almost out of place in a world so dark and uncertain. But it was that very energy, that spark of life, that reminded Thalria there was more at stake here than just survival.
Daln was silent in front of her, his steady pace unwavering. He was a man who knew how to carry his burdens. Thalria sensed something deeper within him—he might not care about her name or family, but there was an unspoken weight to him, a quiet depth that hinted at his own struggles. Whatever battles he had faced, they had shaped him into the person he was now, just as hers had shaped her.
They eventually arrived at what Thalria presumed to be the entrance to the cave. It was, as Daln had said, quite hidden—tucked away behind a dense thicket of trees and overgrown vines. The entrance itself was narrow, barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side.
Thalria paused for a moment, scanning the area. The signs of makeshift living were everywhere—beds formed from leaves and torn fabric, curtains hastily strung up for some privacy, and a central fire that lit the cave, casting shadows on the walls. Despite the cave’s roughness, there was a sense of comfort here, an odd sense of community amidst the chaos.
Thalria’s gaze shifted toward the entrance as she noticed movement there. A group of people stood gathered, their forms tense. The chatter was faint, but it was enough to catch her attention.
“What’s going on over there?” She asked, her voice laced with curiosity.
“Not sure,” Daln replied. “Jovian’s probably back.”
But the longer she watched, the more the tension thickened. The voices grew louder, the movements became more frantic. Something was wrong. Thalria could feel it, the unease pressing down on her chest like a heavy weight.
She exchanged a look with Daln, who had already begun to move toward the crowd, his expression hardening.
“Stay behind me.” Thalria whispered to Juno before following Daln to the entrance.
As Thalria pushed through the crowd, murmurs swirled around her. As she moved, she felt eyes shift toward her instead. A few people hesitated, their murmurs faltering as they caught sight of her. Recognition, uncertainty—she could feel their scrutiny, but she pushed past it.
None of it matters right now.
Her attention snapped ahead, where the heart of the commotion lay. She saw a group gathered, their voices rising.
On one side, A lone figure stood. His clothes were tattered, streaked with dirt and blood. Strands of hair clung to his face, shadowing his expression. He supported a limp Jovian, one of the injured man’s arms draped around his shoulder, while the other hung loosely by his side.
On the other side, three men stood, gripping makeshift weapons. Their faces were drawn with tension as they argued fiercely, their voices crackling with a mix of anger and fear.
“We barely have enough food for ourselves,” one of them spat, his voice strained. “You want to add another mouth to feed?”
“The supplies are dwindling fast,” another man added, his voice tinged with desperation. “We can’t afford to waste what little we have!”
“But this is Jovian!” the third man snapped, his hands clenched into fists. “He’s the one who brought us here. You want to leave him behind just because we don’t have enough food, or that he might not survive? You’d turn your back on the one person who gave us a chance?”
The argument escalated, the tension rising as the debate raged on.
Before it could spiral further, Daln’s voice cut through the chaos, firm and commanding. “What’s going on here?” His tone was heavy, his presence immediately silencing the group.
As all eyes turned to Daln, they shifted again, this time to Thalira. Her presence drew their gaze, some wary, others hopeful, but all expectant.
Thalira’s mind raced as she took in the scene. Jovian’s pale face, the desperation in the men’s eyes—it was clear this was no longer about waiting for someone else to step in. Whether she was ready or not, she couldn’t wait for someone else to fix this.
She inhaled deeply, grounding herself. There was no time to hesitate.
Her eyes briefly flickered to Daln, who stood waiting, tense, but silent. He was looking to her, too. She felt a flicker of doubt, but it was swiftly drowned by the certainty that surged within her.
The voices of the crowd were growing louder again, more frantic, but she knew there was only one way forward.
‘It’s me, then,’ she realized with quiet certainty. ‘I have to do this.’
Without a moment’s further hesitation, she strode into the center of the group, her movements confident and sure.
Thalria spoke. “What’s going on here?” The words rang out, sharp and commanding.
The crowd went still. Silence filled the air, save for the faint murmurs of uncertainty. No one dared speak for a long, uncomfortable moment, until one of the arguing men finally broke the silence, his voice trembling with urgency.
“Look,” he pointed to Jovian, still supported by the stranger. “He’s barely holding on. He’s a burden we can’t afford. We barely have enough for ourselves—how are we supposed to keep him alive too?” He then motioned to the stranger. “And then we have to add another?”
Thalira’s gaze fixed on Jovian. She could see the exhaustion and the blood staining his skin, his body bruised and broken, but there was still life in him—a faint spark of will. Something the group was clearly losing sight of.
She raised a hand to silence the man. “Hold on a second,” she interjected. “Who decides who survives here? You?”
Another voice, thinner now, trembled with fear. “We’ve been rationing for days. What happens when we run out of food?”
Thalria stepped forward, her voice cutting through the argument. “Enough.” She met their gazes, her words carrying weight. “We’re not going to survive this by turning on each other.”
She glanced at Jovian, battered, but alive, then back at the group. “We’ve already made it this far. Together. Abandoning him isn’t the answer.”
Her tone softened, but the determination remained. “We are not just survivors—we are people.”
The crowd murmured as Thalria’s words settled over them. Some shifted uneasily, but no one spoke against her.
She looked back at the crowd, scanning, then called out. “Is there an Axton here?”
A moment passed before a tall man with reddish skin stepped forward. His wary eyes met hers, assessing, before he gave a small nod. “I’m Axton.”
“You were the one who treated my wounds, weren’t you?” Thalria asked.
Axton hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yes, that was me.” His gaze flickered to Jovian, assessing the severity of his injuries.
Thalria met his eyes. “Can you do the same for him?” A pause. Then, softer, “Please.”
Axton exhaled through his nose, his expression unreadable. Then, with a slight nod, he stepped forward. “I’ll do what I can.”
He moved toward the stranger supporting Jovian, gently taking the injured man’s weight. The stranger hesitated for a moment, eyes flicking between Axton and Jovian before finally stepping back, allowing Axton to take over.
Thalria then turned her attention to the stranger, her voice firm and resolute. “And you,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument, “You are going to tell me who you are, and what happened to him.”
The stranger paused, his eyes locking with hers, as though trying to peer into the very core of her being. There was a weight to his stare, intense and unyielding.
Finally, he spoke, his voice low and steady. "My name... is Nero." He paused for a brief moment, allowing the name to settle in the air, before adding, "And as for him..."
Nero sighed. “It’s a long story.”
Thalira raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Actually, wash yourself off first. Then we can talk.
Nero glanced at himself. “Yeah… thanks.”