Rain beat against the walls of the tiny room, a ceaseless percussion that matched Ana’s thoughts in their relentless assault. She sat with a jug of cheap ale, the sputtering candlelight tracing harsh lines across her face. The flickering shadows were company enough as she read and reread the half-whispered words Caden had left behind, each repetition a twist of the knife. Her hand trembled as she wiped it on a stained cloak, and her jaw tightened with each swig she took, the bitter liquid barely quenching the fire of her uncertainty.

The note lay on the table, its edges curled with damp and haste. “I’ll do anything. Please.” The words gnawed at her like a persistent ache, refusing to be drowned out by the noise of rain or ale. Ana slammed the jug down, the harsh sound a fleeting comfort against the dull roar of doubt.

Her cloak hung off one shoulder, soaked from her flight through the night. She hadn't bothered to dry it, or herself. She barely felt the cold, her thoughts consuming all other sensations. Her mind was a tempest, each gusting doubt stirring the memories she'd tried so hard to bury.

Ana ground her teeth, fighting the surge of emotions that threatened to engulf her. She couldn't go through this again. Not after—. Her thoughts cut off, sharp and jagged.

Pacing the cramped space, Ana took another swig, her steps echoing with the same restless energy that churned inside her. The room felt like a cage, the rain like bars. She was trapped, cornered by a promise she’d never made but somehow couldn't escape.

Her mind drifted to the night Valar had left her world in ruins, the blood and betrayal that had marked the start of this cursed road. Could she drag Caden into the same hell? He was just a kid, so damned earnest it made her sick. But he wouldn’t let go, wouldn’t back down.

The ale burned a bitter path down her throat as she tried to swallow the past and the present. Ana's voice broke the solitude, a muttered curse laced with something that tasted like fear. “I won’t let you follow this cursed road easily,” she swore, as much to herself as to the empty room.

The rain hammered down, relentless. Ana’s defenses, the ones she’d built so carefully over the years, were crumbling under the weight of a simple note and a stubborn boy.

She stopped, staring out the rain-streaked window. The world was a blurred mess, much like the tangle of emotions inside her. Could she really let him in? Could she bear the cost of another loss, another betrayal?

Ana's breath came fast, shallow, her resolve slipping through her fingers like rainwater. She sank into a chair, exhaustion and inevitability settling over her like a shroud. Caden’s face, filled her thoughts. She hated that it gave her hope.

With a final, resigned sigh, she reached for an old set of ground rules written in faded ink. They were from a different time, a different life, but they would have to do. She set them beside the note, then grabbed her gear.

A fresh piece of parchment joined Caden’s note, and her handwriting was brisk, almost curt: "It’s not a game. Be ready to prove it kid."

Ana left the small room behind, her decision as much an anchor as it was a weight. The rain still fell, but now she welcomed its chill, the clarity it brought. Caden would learn, but not without a fight. And maybe, just maybe, that was what they both needed.