"One more thing," Joshua added, his voice unusually strained as his gaze fixed solely on Osen. Osen tensed, bracing himself for whatever would come next.

"Osen, you'll be working with the escort," he finally said, his tone steady but devoid of emotion.

Osen noticed how Joshua's shoulders seemed to sink ever so slightly. Assigning him to the guard clearly weighed on him, even if it was only temporary. His face reflected his inner turmoil.

"All the lumberjacks are joining. The guard alone isn't enough to deflect an attack."

Then Joshua met Osen's gaze directly. He hesitated for a moment, the faintest trace of something unspoken flickering in his eyes. He knew Osen wasn't a fighter, wasn't someone meant for this kind of life. A boy with his past deserved peace and quiet. But peace wasn't something Joshua could offer him now.

Osen stared into the distance, lost in a storm of emotions he couldn't fully process.

He wasn't sure what to feel. No, more precisely, he understood that it was natural to feel fear in this moment. And indeed, he felt a strong fear—one born of respect for a greater, hostile force.

But his thoughts didn't allow him to drown in that fear. He closed his eyes briefly, sinking into his own consciousness. Images flashed through his mind. Memories that were present yet always slipped away like water when he tried to grasp them.

Beyond memories, there were also something alike to visions.

He found this side of himself barbaric and dangerous, yet he couldn't suppress the images in his head. Various scenarios rushed through him, where he bathed in the blood of beasts, surrounded by their corpses. These visions created a certain distance—a distance from himself. Disgust at his own existence began to build within him, clashing with the anger simmering inside.

Despite all this, he had to appear calm on the outside.

Nodding reluctantly, he accepted the order.

Kale had been watching his friend closely, already aware of what was coming, but Osen's quiet acceptance still took him by surprise. He hadn't expected him to agree so willingly, so silently.

His reaction felt... off. Unsettling even. For a moment, Kale couldn't shake the thought that something was different. The boy he had known for years didn't make decisions like this without hesitation or protest.

But Kale quickly dismissed the thought, shaking his head. No, this was just his own nerves getting the better of him, clouding his judgment. Osen was still his friend, unchanged, just like always. Yet, deep down, a nagging unease refused to fade entirely.

Shifting his attention back to Joshua, he noticed that he seemed ready to speak again.

Yet it looked as though he was turning a single thought over in his mind thousands of times. For a split second, a pained expression crossed his face but disappeared just as quickly. He addressed everyone in the room.

"Besides that, I have a request." His eyes turned to Kale and Maris, though his focus lingered on Osen. Joshua lowered his head slightly, his hands gripping his knees, a frown darkening his features. Then he began.

"With the army on its way, a Navigator will be needed—someone who knows the area well and has experience in warfare." After a brief pause, he straightened, his expression grim. "I'll have to take on that role myself, which means Osen will no longer have anyone to watch over him. That's why I've asked Margaret," he glanced at the siblings' mother, "to take Osen into your household."

A shift went through the room.

For a brief moment, no one spoke. Kale exchanged a suprised glance with his mother, who gave him a measured nod. Maris's brow furrowed as she processed the weight of the decision, while Osen remained silent, his eyes fixed on Joshua, a swirl of emotions flashing in his gaze.

"With her connections to some of the local nobles and the money I've given her from the left overs of the Hohenfeld treasury, you should all be able to build yourselves a decent life in the capital. One that's far better than this."

Everyone was still silent.

Margaret shifted her focus to Osen, her expression softening. She understood why he had made this decision. The role of navigator for such a mission was essentially a suicide operation. A grim reality the Imperial Army was infamous for. Soldiers often sought only one thing: death with honor.

And though she resented the inevitability of it, she resolved to take care of Osen. If Joshua's eventual death couldn't be stopped, she would make sure the boy didn't face the aftermath alone. He deserved a life beyond this village, beyond the shadows of loss and violence that had followed him for so long.

While Kale appreciated the thought of spending more time with his friend, it paled in comparison to the weight of Joshua's fate. Sir Joshua wasn't just a respected figure to Kale. He was a role model, someone Kale quietly aspired to be like. The thought of Joshua stepping into what was essentially a death sentence sent a chill through him.

Maris understood the situation Joshua was in. A close family friend needed help, and they would provide it. Supporting Osen during such a time was the least they could do for him. He was, after all, practically part of their family.

Osen, meanwhile, was as silent and stiff as a statue. Not a single emotion escaped his body as he spoke, his tone emptier than it had ever been before.

"I understand," he said.

Osen's tone made Joshua feel a rare flicker of nervousness, but he had to take this response as acceptance. After all, there was no time left. With a swift motion, Joshua stood and moved toward the door, his steps purposeful yet heavy with unspoken weight, the others following close behind.

"I'm heading out to oversee the evacuation," he said again, his voice sharper this time. He moved toward the door, his movements steady yet heavy with purpose.

Pausing at the threshold, he turned back. "You can use the house as long as you need. Take whatever you think might be useful, don't hold back. My belongings are yours."

His gaze lingered on Osen for just a moment longer, his expression softening into something almost apologetic before he stepped out into the streets.

The others drifted back inside after saying their farewells, their steps hesitant, while Osen stood silently by the door. The faint crunch of gravel beneath Joshua's boots echoed in his ears long after the man vanished behind a distant wall.

In the end, you never told me the truth, Osen thought bitterly, his expression twisting into a mix of anguish and resentment.

As the man who had cared for him since childhood faded into the distance, Osen felt as though a part of his life had died with him. Everything he had, everything he had ever hoped for, now seemed to dissolve into the cold air, leaving behind only emptiness.

With the door firmly shut, Osen turned and made his way back to the living room. The room, dimly lit by the faint orange glow of a nearby lantern, felt both too still and too restless at the same time.

From the kitchen, he could hear Kale and his mother engaged in a tense discussion. Their voices rose and fell with urgency, resounding through the walls and mixing with the clatter of plates and utensils.

It seemed to be about supplies, though Osen caught little of their words through the heat of their argument.

Maris was seated on the sofa, her posture upright and focused. Her fingers moved methodically over several sheets of paper scattered across the low table before her. Pencils lay around, some rolling slightly as she adjusted her work. The scratches of her pencil against the paper created a soft rhythm, the only sound in the room's otherwise silent atmosphere.

Osen's gaze flicked to the papers but didn't linger. He had no idea what she was working on, but whatever it was, she treated it with grave importance. That was fine with him. He felt far too shaken to engage in any sort of conversation. His mind was a tangle of emotions and unanswered questions, and he knew he needed solitude to sort through them.

For a long time, he and Maris sat in silence. Occasionally, Kale rushed through the hallway with bags clutched in his hands, his hurried steps echoing against the floors. The weight of the situation was written all over his face as he darted between rooms, his focus entirely on preparing for what lay ahead.

The evening deepened, and the shadows in the house stretched. The night began to creep in slowly, creating a quiet heaviness over everything. According to Margaret, the evacuation was scheduled for tomorrow evening, leaving only a day to prepare.

Feeling the weight of it, Osen decided to retreat to his room to begin packing his belongings. The thought of leaving behind the only place he had ever known scraped at him, but he pushed the feeling aside as he stood. The moment he rose to his feet, Maris's voice broke through the stillness.

"Are you going to bed?" she asked, her eyes still fixed on the papers in front of her, which appeared to be lists of various items.

"Yes," Osen replied curtly. He intended to leave without further conversation, but the next question came immediately.

"When are you going to stop?" she asked, this time turning her gaze to Osen. Her eyes carried a fiery determination that startled him slightly. He quickly composed himself, relaxing his tense posture.

"Stop what?" he asked in return.

"Osen, I know you like to withdraw, especially in times like this. But that won't work forever. How long are you going to keep distancing yourself from everyone? When will you finally share what you're going through?"

Osen looked at her as though she'd struck him. "I have nothing to—" he began, but Maris interrupted him, her voice now softer than stern.

"I get that there's a lot you don't want to talk about," she said, this time a little more cautiously. "Maybe now isn't the right time. But one day, you'll have to. Trust isn't a luxury—it's something none of us can survive without. Not even you."

Osen didn't respond to that. He simply stared at her, his face a mask of neutrality. Or at least, that was the expression he hoped was on his face.

A sigh broke the silence between them. Kale stood in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen, holding a blanket in his hand, a small smile on his face.

"She's right," he said firmly, his tone resolute. Osen flinched slightly but, as had happened countless times before, found himself unable to speak. Kale's enthusiasm, however, was unrelenting.

"Look, you don't have to tell us everything. But you can rely on us if you're not feeling okay." He paused as if lost in thought, his expression tinged with a hint of shame. "And... I'm sorry about how I've acted since yesterday. I was nervous too and didn't know how to help you. But leaving you to deal with it alone was a mistake, so... sorry," he finished. To his dismay, Maris let out a brief laugh.

"Forgive my foolish brother. He's pretty incompetent when it comes to thinking," she said with a friendly smile.

Osen didn't know how to react, so he stayed silent for a moment.

He knew they had been trying tirelessly to pull him out of his shell. Long ago, he had come to terms with the flaws and loneliness that defined his way of life. Even though he had accepted it as his reality, these people, for his sake, had not. That realization stirred something warm in his chest—a flicker of light, as if he were waking from a long and harrowing nightmare. Though the storm in his mind still raged relentlessly, in this fleeting moment, he felt a rare and unfamiliar sense of freedom.

Summoning all his strength to steady himself, he let out a weak but genuine smile and opened his mouth to speak.

The room felt lighter, as though the weight in the air had eased, if only slightly. Kale and Maris watched him intently, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and cautious hope. The warmth in his chest lingered, pushing back against the storm that threatened to consume him. For once, it didn't feel like a battle he would lose.

Even if only for this moment, he didn't feel entirely alone.

"Thank you. I'll think about your offer."

For the first time in many years, he had managed it. He had pushed back his thoughts, his uncertainty, and everything that came with them.