Rain turned to mist, then to a thick haze clinging to their skin as the dense forest thinned into sparse, sickly trees. Birds fell silent. The air held strange scents: tar, charred spices, iron, and rotting lumber. Along the swollen river, broken logs jutted like fangs. Caden's excitement about forest magic dwindled with each step on the merchant trail.

The village emerged—a maze of narrow, neglected lanes. Decay was evident everywhere, a place forgotten by time and hope. Ana's eyes scanned cracked stones and faded buildings, remembering when it was vibrant and alive, a ghost of its former self.

Two children watched from behind a half-collapsed wall, disappearing the moment Ana's gaze found them. Secrets seemed to pulse in the air as she and Caden descended from the groaning cart, their boots meeting ground that seemed to have been waiting for them.

Cold thickness filled their lungs with each breath, as if the town's lost prosperity had condensed into the very air. Closed shutters lined the uneven street, refusing to acknowledge their presence, yet Ana sensed watchful eyes behind them—wary, fearful observers hidden in shadow.

"Not exactly a welcoming committee," Caden muttered, keeping close to Ana's side. His gaze darted around the desolate square, catching on the few figures that lingered cautiously in doorways.

"Nothing says 'trustworthy visitors' like a broken sword and pointy ears," Ana replied, the smug lilt in her voice failing to mask the tension beneath. She tugged the hood of her cloak lower over her brow, though she doubted it would change much.

The people were scarce, their hesitation more telling than if the streets had been crowded.

"Is it always this lively?" Caden asked, glancing sideways at Ana.

Ana hesitated, searching for the right words. "It used to be different," she finally said, her tone suggesting more to it. The reluctance in her voice lingered as she remembered the town's vibrancy. "A—long time ago."

Before Caden could press her further, movement at the edge of the square drew their attention. A gaunt, older man broke from the shadows of an alley, his posture stooped but his pace quick. He moved toward them with purpose, a note of desperation in the urgency of his steps.

Ana's eyes narrowed as she recognized him. "Don't look now," she murmured, "but I think we've been spotted."

Caden followed her gaze, watching as the man closed the distance. His clothes were worn but once well-made, the kind that suggested authority or at least the memory of it. He approached with a cautious hopefulness, as though afraid his destination might vanish before he reached it.

"Caden," Ana barked, giving his forehead a sharp flick with her finger.

"Ow!" Caden protested, rubbing the spot with irritation.

"I told you not to look right away."

"Lady Kai," the man called, his voice cracked but steady. His eyes, sunken and haunted, met hers with an intensity that made Ana's heart skip.

She stood still, bracing for the encounter. The world around her seemed to tighten, pulling her into a moment she had not prepared to face. The past, like the man himself, loomed larger with every step.

"Lady Kai, please," he implored, stopping before her with his hands clasped in front of him. The plea in his voice was palpable, heavy with years of waiting. "We need you."

Ana took a step back, the suddenness of his words striking her with a force that was rather familiar. The raw, naked plea in the man's expression told her all she needed to know.

Caden glanced between them, the confusion and curiosity on his young face impossible to miss. "Who is this?" he asked, his tone expectant but patient.

Ana exhaled slowly, drawing out the silence until it nearly fractured. Her gaze lingered on the man's weathered face, searching for something familiar in the contours of his jaw, the set of his eyes. A ghost of recognition flickered through her memory. "Tallen's son?" she said at last, the words carrying the weight of unsaid truths. "His father... I helped him once. A long time ago, when I was still Kingsguard."

Her admission hung in the air, an uninvited guest among them. The old man's presence seemed to press further upon her, each second daring her to turn away from the call to her past. Her fingers tightened around her arms, knuckles white beneath the leather gloves.

Caden's eyes widened, and he looked back to the old man, his expression a blend of wonder and suspicion. "He knows who you are?"

"Seems like it," Ana replied tersely. She didn't know whether to feel anger or guilt, knowing it was likely both.

"Does that mean you know my mast—A—ow!" Caden yelped as Ana pinched him sharply in the arm, his question cut short by her impatience. He glared at her, rubbing the spot where she'd twisted his skin.

"We can't help you," Ana said, turning back to the old man with a finality that left no room for argument.

The man's eyes widened with disbelief, frailty giving way to a simmering desperation. "Please, you don't understand," he insisted, voice fraught with urgency. "It's not just an attack. They're tearing us apart!"

Ana's jaw tightened, a muscle flickering at her temple.

The old man took a step closer, a glimmer of hope igniting in his gaze. "We didn't think you'd ever return. When we heard... I didn't—I don't know who else to turn to. Even the kingdom has abandoned us to our fate. The barons, too. They say it's not worth the cost for a waystation town like ours." His voice trembled with bitterness, the weight of the town's doom all but breaking him.

"You thought that we'd come running when no one else did?" Ana's voice cut through the man's despair, her tone sharp and unforgiving.

The old man flinched at her words, lowering his gaze. "I thought... perhaps you would remember. You saved us once, Lady Kai. Before."

Ana wanted to grind her molars into powder every time she heard that name. "Stop calling me that," she growled, letting her voice carry through the empty square so there was no mistaking. "I haven't been 'Kai' in a hundred deaths, and I was never anyone's 'Lady'." She spit the words like bad wine, and the old man's hope dissolved into a weaker, shriveled shape. The air between them pulled taut and twanged.

Rain pocked the silence that followed, dribbling from a rotten gutter and pooling at their feet. The man looked sorry, saying, "But the boy you were with, he—" Ana interrupted sharply, "is dead."

Ana turned away toward the caravan. Her cloak billowed as she leaned against the horse, busying herself with the harness.

Caden shuffled beside her, glancing between her and the old man whose hope visibly crumbled. Muddy puddles mirrored the accusatory gray sky. A dog's distant bark vanished into silence.

Ana's hands worked methodically as she fastened the buckles, her resolve tightening along with them.

"Mortal problems," she said softly, just loud enough for Caden to hear. "Not my problems."

The old man stood on the opposite end of the street. Everything felt suspended between them—two ends of an unraveling thread pulled taut across a muddy expanse. He was still, waiting for Ana to turn back.

Ana threw a glance at Caden. The weight of unspoken commitments bore down on her, stretching the moment into something that tormented. Her lips quirked in a bitter smirk, eyebrows knitting together in defiance and doubt.

The horse shifted beneath Ana's touch, its restless movement a mirror to her own internal discord. She fastened the last strap with a sharp tug, as if sealing the decision off from her heart.

The sound of Caden's soft, shuffling feet and the look on his face clawed at Ana's resolve like a half-drowned kitten. Her fingers hesitated over the buckle, her resistance fraying as she endured the unwavering assault of his innocent, expectant eyes.

"Fine," she sighed at last, directing an exasperated glance at her apprentice. "We'll hear them out."

Caden's lips curled into a triumphant smile, and Ana shook her head, muttering something about gullibility being contagious. She turned back toward the old man, who lifted his gaze slowly, disbelief and renewed hope chasing each other across his gaunt face.

Ana forced herself to hold his gaze, though the effort cut deep. "I didn't know there was anything left to return to," she said, a hard edge sharpening her voice. She couldn't ignore the tug of the past nor the pull of his plea.

"Things changed after you left. The townsfolk—many of them still believe. You're our only chance, K—. Please, we need you to protect us."

Ana flinched as the old man's words struck a buried nerve. Feeling her turmoil, Caden leaned in and softly asked, "What do you want to do?" His concern was genuine, unburdened by her past. She hesitated, torn between walking away and the quiet, persistent urge to stay.

"I'm not making any promises." she said at last, her reluctance barely concealed.

The old man nodded, his relief almost palpable. "That's more than we hoped for," he said, his gratitude evident even in his ragged voice.

Ana allowed herself a measured sigh, feeling the weight of commitment settle on her shoulders.

Caden fell into step beside her as they followed the old man, his expression a mix of admiration and curiosity. "You left a lot out of your life story, you know," he said, attempting a smile.

Ana shook her head, her thoughts tangled with past and present. "You have no idea." she replied.