I looked over—and there she was.
Hidden among the shadows cast by the watchfire stood the white-hooded figure of the third pilgrim: the young priestess, Adrian Serina. She seemed lost in thought, her bowed head allowing faint glimpses of pale skin to catch the Sisters’ night-glow.

I tried to greet her without startling her.
“Sister Serina, I presume?” I asked softly as I approached.

Her reaction mirrored that of a young stag hearing the hunter’s steps in the brush—tense, alert, searching for an escape.
Her head lifted, eyes widening in recognition. A deep green hue glimmered beneath her hood, a color I hadn’t noticed until now. The restlessness in her expression betrayed her exhaustion; the skin beneath her reddened eyes was swollen and sore.

I couldn’t blame her. She was younger than I had been when I first took the oath, and yet here she stood—already witness and survivor to one of the most destructive displays of force I had ever seen unleashed in my lifetime.

“I was ordered to wait here for your arrival, sir,” she said—skipping formalities, or perhaps simply unaware of them beyond the ranks of the priesthood.

“And I was informed that we are to keep each other’s company on this journey,” I replied, my tone softening instinctively—much as it did when speaking to my sister’s children back home.

“My task is to observe, sir,” she continued, her voice echoing her orders, “and to keep all of us away from sin and temptation.”

“And that you will do, Sister,” I said, hoping to reassure her—to remind her that her purpose in this pilgrimage was not a punishment, but a duty.

“Yes, sir,” she replied—her voice wary, her gaze the same. I could see she was still deciding whether I was a threat, and who could blame her? Our only encounters before today had been on the fields outside Lapurum—and we both knew that what had happened out there, what she had seen me do with those troubled green eyes, was the reason we now shared this fate.

“Call me Marcus, if you will,” I told her, offering a faint smile. “Formalities could give us away too easily among our enemies.” I waited to see if the remark might ease her tension.

“Will do, sir,” she answered, then immediately lowered her head, realizing she had ignored my request. The embarrassment was plain on her face.

“We’ll have to work on that,” I said lightly, brushing it off.

“Ah—and here’s Legatus Varian,” I added as Felix appeared in the distance.
“He’ll be joining us on this pilgrimage as well.”

Felix tied his horse beside mine and approached. “Come, Legatus, let me make the introductions,” I said, gesturing toward Adrian.
“This young lady is Sister Adrian Serina—she too will be accompanying us.”

Turning to her, I continued, “And this is my dear friend, Legatus Felix Varian. You’ll have little to fear on the road, Sister—he alone could protect us from half an army if need be.” I said it with a smile, patting Felix on the back.

“Feeling lighter, Felix?” I asked with mock severity.

“In second thought, I may have overdone it, Praefectus,” he replied with a grin, scratching at his black curls.

“As I mentioned to Sister Serina earlier,” I said, “we should go by our first names to lessen the chance of being noticed. Would that be acceptable, Felix?”

“Of course, Praef—” he stopped himself, catching my look. “Marcus,” he finished, the name brightening his face as though I had granted him a rare privilege.

Our brief banter was cut short by the squeal of approaching cart wheels.

Two horses strained against their harnesses, drawing a wooden cart toward the gate—upon it stood the radiant form of the Keeper. For a moment, I couldn’t make out the figure seated beside her, but the small frame and the faint glimmer of red hair beneath the hood left little doubt as to who it was.

It was the creature—Thaddeus Fogg. His chained hands hung between his short legs, the iron links clinking softly with each jolt of the wheels. His expression was grim, unreadable.

The Keeper, by contrast, looked almost pleased with her company, her body swaying in calm rhythm with the cart’s motion as though the whole affair were some quiet procession.

I glanced back at my companions. Felix’s expression had hardened at the sight of the creature, though he kept his thoughts to himself, letting them simmer behind his eyes.

Sister Adrian, by contrast, looked intrigued by their arrival—but she quickly fell to her knees in reverence at the Keeper’s presence.

In that moment, I could have sworn I never saw nor heard them descend from the cart—yet there they stood before us: the Keeper, poised and otherworldly beneath the Sisters’ light, and the creature, skulking behind her shadow.

“I see you managed to prepare in time, Praefectus,” she said, her unsettling smile growing ever more divine as her radiance swallowed the light of the watchfire.

“We’ve managed to do so, Your Radiance,” I replied, my eyes drifting toward the cautious creature standing behind her.

“I see my parting gift caught your attention, my sweet paladin,” she went on. “I’m rather good at choosing presents, aren’t I?” Her hungry, shifting gaze locked on me.

“I can see the use we might have for it on our pilgrimage, Your Radiance,” I answered, my mind already turning over the precautions we would have to take now that it would accompany us. We would have more than the road to worry about—we would need to watch and conceal a creature that could prove deadly if left unguarded.

“Don’t worry, Praefectus. He’s going to be a good and obedient boy. Wouldn’t you now?” she said, addressing both me and the creature as she laid her midnight hand upon its red hair, scruffing it as one would an exotic pet.

The creature forced itself not to recoil from her touch, but for a fleeting second, I felt a pang of grief for whatever had transpired between them to break its spirit so completely since the last time I saw it.

“Now that I have you all here, children, let’s set your course!” the Keeper declared with sudden delight.

“I would like you to return our new friend here to his—Guild, was it?” She turned toward the creature for confirmation. It nodded quickly, eager to please.

“To his Guild’s house in Alverset then,” she continued. “Let him gather whatever belongings he requires and bring them back to me—most likely here.” Her tone made the task sound almost trivial, though the weight of it pressed heavy upon us all.

“Will do, Your Radiance,” came Sister Adrian’s voice before any of us could answer. Her eagerness to please the Keeper was as loud as it was earnest.

“That’s comforting to know—thank you, Sister Serina,” the Keeper replied with mock appreciation.

“Let’s move along then. The night may be young, but the Lifegiver won’t wait forever to reclaim his throne in the sky,” she said, placing both palms on her hips and gesturing for us to hurry.

“As you command, Your Radiance,” Felix and I answered in unison, then turned to transfer our gear and supplies from the horses to the cart she had provided.

“Oh, and one last thing, Praefectus,” she said as she turned her back to us, her voice drifting into the dark.

“Yes, Your Radiance?” I asked, uneasy about what more she might demand.

“Red suits you,” she said. Her sharp canine caught the firelight in a fleeting glint of gold—then she vanished into the night’s shadows.

And with that, we were left alone—an uneasy gathering passing through the camp’s gates for the last time until our task was complete.

Sister Adrian guided the wooden cart, our supplies shifting and bobbing in its bed. The creature sat chained among them, the faint chiming of his bonds marking the rhythm of our departure.

Felix and I followed behind on horseback, our pace slow, the night air cool against the embers of the watchfires fading behind us.

“Where to now, Praefectus?” Felix asked, awaiting my direction.

I cast one last glance toward the closing gates—the lights of the camp dimming behind them, silencing the life that stirred within its enclosure.

“I have an old friend who might aid us on our way through Almia,” I told him, catching the questioning look that crossed his face. “Last I heard, she was staying in a town called Jovirelle, just past the canal city of Arventis. For now, let the river be our guide northward.”

“She, sir?” Felix asked, puzzled.

“That’s a story for another time, Legatus,” I replied, half serious, half surprised that this was what caught his attention.

“We have a long road ahead of us—and many things to discuss before we reach it,” I added, then spurred my horse forward to close the distance between us and the cart.