By midday, the square had emptied.
The weapons still stood where they had been driven into the ground, a scattered line of steel catching what little light broke through the clouds. No one had come to collect them yet.
A mark left behind.
Edric returned alone.
He walked past the edge of the cleared ground, his boots pressing into the thin frost where ash had been buried. There was no sign of it now. Only disturbed earth, already beginning to harden again.
For a moment, he stood among the planted weapons.
Watching.
The wind moved through the square, low and steady, brushing against the steel and cloth alike. One of the spears shifted slightly where it had been set, the sound faint but sharp in the silence.
Edric reached out and steadied it.
His hand remained there for a brief moment, then he let go.
Edric heard the footsteps behind him. Familiar. He didn't turn.
'How is it?" he asked.
"City's holding," said Dave.
Edric nodded once. "The wounded?"
"There condition is stable, where we can manage it but, some won't last the night."
Edric's gaze remained forward.
Dave stepped up beside him, his eyes moving across the square.
"They're watching you," he added after a moment.
Edric did not need to ask who.
"I know."
"They'll keep watching."
"I know."
The wind shifted again, colder this time.
Dave glanced at the weapons.
"You going to leave these here?"
"For now."
Dave nodded.
"They'll understand that."
Another moment passed.
Then Dave spoke again, quieter this time.
"You did what you could."
Edric did not respond immediately.
"That's not the same as enough."
Dave didn't argue.
A group of soldiers crossed the far side of the square, carrying timber. One of them slowed briefly as they passed the line of weapons, his gaze lingering on the ground where the ash had been pressed into the earth.
He didn't stop.
But he didn't look away quickly either.
Then he moved on with the others.
Edric watched them go.
Then, without another word, he turned.
Dave followed.
The square remained behind them.
By the time the sun dipped lower, Whitehold had found its rhythm again.
Something slow and deliberate.
Work continued where it could. Doors repaired. Walls reinforced. Names remembered in quiet corners.
No one spoke of victory.
They spoke of what needed to be done next.
The evening had settled into a cold stillness.
From the balcony, Whitehold stretched beneath a dim wash of fading light…rooftops darkening, torches flickering to life one by one. Above it all the sky deepened into a vast, indifferent black, pricked with the first scattered stars.
Kaavi stood alone, hands resting lightly against the stone railing, his gaze fixed upward.
He hadn't moved for some time.
Footsteps approached behind him.
Viktor.
"What are you doing out here grandpa?" he asked, his voice low, careful not to disturb the quite.
Kaavi's eyes remained on the sky. After a brief silence, he spoke.
"What do you think separates us from the rest of the creatures that live in this world?"
Viktor frowned slightly.
He thought about it.
Strength… no.
Speed… no.
He shook his head.
"I don't know."
Kaavi nodded once, as if that was the right answer.
"Questions," he said.
Viktor glanced at him.
Kaavi's gaze remained fixed on the horizon.
"We ask them. About everything. About what we see, what we feel… what we don't understand."
His voice stayed even.
"That curiosity is what carried us this far. It's why we learn. Why we build. Why we change."
A brief pause.
Then he added,
"But it doesn't make us greater than anything else that lives."
The wind moved along the wall, quiet and cold.
"It only means we were given something different."
Viktor listened carefully now.
"Something we're meant to use," Kaavi continued. "Not just for ourselves… but for what cannot stand on its own."
He finally looked down at Viktor.
"Think of it this way."
A small pause.
"We are gardeners in a garden that does not belong to us."
His eyes shifted back toward the mountains.
"And everything that lives within it…is not ours to rule."
Viktor followed his gaze.
"Only to tend."
The silence lingered.
Viktor's eyes remained on the sky, but the weight of Kaavi's words didn't settle the way they were meant to. They passed through him, half-understood, like something he would return to years later.
He frowned slightly, thinking...
Then the moment broke.
Heavy footsteps echoed from the corridor behind them, unhurried, familiar.
Gavril.
"You two planning to stare at the sky all night," he said, voice rough with mild irritation, "or do you intend to eat before the food goes cold?"
Kaavi exhaled softly through his nose, the faintest hint of amusement touching his expression.
Viktor blinked, the weight of the conversation slipping just enough for something far more immediate to take its place.
Food.
His stomach answered before his thoughts did.
He straightened a little, turning toward Kaavi.
"…We should go," he said, a touch quicker than before. Then, more plainly...more like himself, "Let's eat, Grandpa."
Kaavi finally turned from the railing, looking at him properly now.
For a brief moment, something unreadable passed through his eyes...recognition, perhaps…or patience.
Then it was gone.
He gave a small nod.
"Come."
Gavril had already turned back down the corridor without waiting, confident they would follow.
Viktor took one last glance at the sky.
Whatever Kaavi meant…it hadn't left him.
Then he followed.