The words hung in the air between us, heavier than the sword in Kaelen's hand, heavier than the weight of the battle that pressed against the ridgeline. I had spoken without thinking, without calculating, without weighing the cost. The village needed help. Someone had to go. And there was no one else.
Kaelen stared at me, his winter-gray eyes unreadable. Behind him, the shield wall reformed, warriors taking their places, preparing for the next wave. The monsters would return soon. They always returned.
"You cannot," he said. His voice was flat and controlled, but I heard the tremor beneath it, the fear he could not fully hide. "The main force needs every blade. And you—" he stopped, his jaw tightening.
"I am not asking for an army." I met his gaze, willing him to understand. "Give me a handful of warriors. Runa, perhaps, and a few others. We can hold the village until you've beaten the main wave. You know it's the only way."
