The morning after the fire, the camp was tense. Emily could feel it in every whisper and stare. The villagers avoided her, though the soldiers still nodded respectfully when she passed. Nathan had left early to meet scouts, and Thomas told her to stay near the church for her safety.

She spent the morning tending wounds, keeping her head low. The brass key under her shirt stayed cool, silent, like it was waiting. Around noon, she saw Nathan returning from the woods with two soldiers. His uniform was streaked with mud. He looked tired, but his eyes were sharp.

When he caught her looking, he motioned her over. “Walk with me,” he said.

They moved past the edge of the village, toward a field that had once been a farm. The grass was burned, and old fences lay broken. “We found rebel scouts close by,” Nathan said quietly. “They’re planning to hit us tonight.”

“Shouldn’t we move?” she asked.

He shook his head. “We can’t move the wounded fast enough. We’ll have to hold our ground.”

Emily stopped walking. “Then let me help. I can organize the supplies, make sure everyone’s ready.”

Nathan smiled faintly. “You never stop volunteering, do you?”

“I’m a nurse,” she said simply. “That’s what I do.”

He looked at her a long moment. “You’re different from anyone I’ve met. You don’t ask for rank or reward. You just work.”

She shrugged. “Where I come from, that’s how things are.”

He tilted his head. “Where exactly is that?”

She hesitated. “A long way west. You wouldn’t know it.”

Nathan’s eyes softened. “Fair enough.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a small leather journal. “This belonged to my father. He was a doctor before the war. He used to write about medicine that didn’t exist yet. Machines that could see inside a body. He said one day science would be faster than death.”

Emily froze. “Machines that see inside a body… like X-rays.”

He frowned. “You’ve heard of them?”

She caught herself. “Just stories.”

He smiled slightly. “My father would have liked you.”

Before she could answer, a shout came from the camp. “They’re coming!”

Nathan turned instantly, tucking the journal away. “Get back to the church. Stay low.”

But Emily ran after him instead, grabbing supplies from a wagon. “I’m not hiding.”

Gunfire cracked in the distance. The ground shook as cannons fired. Soldiers rushed into formation. Nathan didn’t argue again; he just glanced at her and nodded once.

As night fell, the first wave of rebels attacked. The battle lit the fields with fire. Emily moved between the wounded, her hands steady despite her fear. She worked beside Thomas, shouting for bandages, ignoring the screams.

In the chaos, she saw Nathan fall from his horse. Her heart stopped. She ran to him through smoke and mud. He was on the ground, blood spreading on his coat.

“Don’t you dare die,” she whispered, pressing her hands to his wound.

He opened his eyes weakly. “I thought I told you to stay safe.”

She smiled through tears. “I never listen.”

The brass key around her neck glowed again, brighter than ever. The wound beneath her hands stopped bleeding. Thomas gasped. “How did you—”

Emily looked down, terrified. The glow faded, leaving only silence and Nathan’s shallow breathing. He was alive. But now she knew the truth—the key wasn’t just a relic. It was connected to something powerful, something beyond her understanding.