The torches had burned low.
The courtyard was quiet now, the shadows long, the stones cold. The company had scattered—Lira to check the horses, Mirena to gather her books, William to write one last letter to his father. Aldric sat alone on a bench near the fountain, his leg propped, his cane beside him, his eyes on the gate.
Gwen stood at the edge of the courtyard, watching him.
She had been watching for a while. The way he held himself, the way his hands rested on his knee, the way his eyes kept moving to the road beyond the gate. He was different than he had been at the feast—quieter, harder, more still. The feast felt like years ago.
She walked to the bench. Sat beside him.
"You're not sleeping."
He didn't look at her. "Neither are you."
She was quiet for a moment. "I've been thinking about what I'm walking into."
Aldric looked at her. "You don't have to come."
"I know."
"You could stay. Be safe. Wait here."
She met his eyes. "I've been safe my whole life. I've been waiting my whole life." She looked at the gate, the road, the darkness beyond. "I'm done waiting."
He was quiet for a moment. "It's not going to be what you think."
"What do I think?"
He shook his head. "I don't know. But it's not that." He looked at his hands. "The things we're going to find—they're not like the stories. They're not like the songs. They're just... wrong. Wrong in ways you can't explain until you see them."
Gwen watched him.
"The beast," he said. "When it came at us—when I saw it—I couldn't move. Not because I was scared. Because my body didn't know what to do. It had never seen anything like it. It didn't know how to react."
She was quiet.
"I don't want that to happen to you."
She reached over. Put her hand on his arm. "It won't."
He looked at her.
"I've been training," she said. "With the battle-mages. With the soldiers. I've been learning what to do when something doesn't make sense." She squeezed his arm. "I'll be ready."
He didn't pull away.
---
Lira found Grog at the stables.
The horses were saddled, the packs were loaded, the supplies were stacked. She moved through the stalls, checking straps, testing knots, making sure everything was where it should be. It was what she did. What she had always done.
Grog leaned against the door of an empty stall, watching her.
"You're nervous," he said.
She didn't look up. "I'm checking the horses."
"You checked them an hour ago."
"Then I'm checking them again."
He was quiet for a moment. "I'm nervous too."
She stopped. Looked at him. "You?"
He nodded. "The old timeline—I knew what was coming. I knew the battles, the enemies, the endings. I knew who would live and who would die." He paused. "I don't know anything now. I don't know what's in those hills. I don't know what we'll find. I don't know if we're walking into something we can't survive."
She moved to stand beside him. "That's always been true. You just didn't know it."
He looked at her.
"In the old timeline, you thought you knew. But you didn't. Not really. You just knew what had already happened." She met his eyes. "Now you get to find out what happens next. Like the rest of us."
He was quiet for a long moment.
"That's not comforting."
She almost smiled. "It's not supposed to be. It's supposed to be true."
---
Mirena stood in the doorway of the library, looking in.
The room was dark, the books still, the maps rolled. She had spent so many hours here, studying, learning, preparing. She had found answers and questions and things that made her wonder if she would ever understand any of it.
Lady Amara sat at the long table, a single candle burning beside her.
"You're leaving tomorrow," she said.
Mirena nodded. "I am."
Lady Amara was quiet for a moment. "I've been thinking about what to say. Words that would matter. Words that would make a difference." She shook her head. "There aren't any."
Mirena moved to the table, sat across from her. "You've taught me a lot."
Lady Amara almost smiled. "I've taught you what I could. The rest—" She gestured at the shelves, the books, the knowledge that filled the room. "The rest is out there. In the hills. In the places you're going."
Mirena looked at the candle flame.
"The battle-mages," Lady Amara said. "They told me you have talent. Natural talent. They said you could be one of them someday."
Mirena met her eyes. "I told them I'd think about it."
Lady Amara nodded slowly. "Think about it out there. When you're facing something that doesn't belong in this world. When you're trying to protect the people beside you." She paused. "That's when you'll know what you want."
---
William stood at the window of his room, looking out at the courtyard below.
His letter to his father was on the desk behind him—sealed, addressed, ready to be sent. He had written it three times. The first was too formal. The second was too emotional. The third was just... honest.
I'm going to the hills. I'm going to fight things that shouldn't exist. I'm going to do something that matters.
I hope you're proud of me.
If I don't come back—
He had stopped there. Crossed it out. Started again.
I'll come back.
He had sealed it before he could change his mind.
Now he stood at the window, watching the courtyard below. The torches were low. The shadows were long. The gate was open, the road dark, the hills invisible.
Edward was standing by the fountain, looking up at his window.
William went down.
---
They stood together in the courtyard, the fountain between them, the stars above.
"You wrote to Father," Edward said.
William nodded. "I did."
Edward was quiet for a moment. "He'll be proud of you."
William looked at him. "Do you think so?"
"I know so." Edward met his eyes. "He's been watching you. Even when you didn't think he was. Even when you were drinking too much and staying up too late and pretending you didn't care." He paused. "He knew you were looking for something."
William looked at his hands. "I didn't know what I was looking for."
"And now?"
William looked at the gate, the road, the darkness beyond. "Now I think I'm starting to find it."
---
Grog stood at the gate, looking out at the road.
The company was scattered—Lira in the stables, Mirena in the library, Aldric with Gwen, William with his brother. The Duke had gone to bed. Vance had disappeared. The palace was quiet.
He thought about the old timeline. About the mornings before battles, before marches, before things he hadn't understood. He had stood at the edge of camps, looking out at roads like this one, wondering if he would come back.
He had always come back. Until the end.
Now he was standing at a gate, looking out at a road, wondering what was waiting.
He didn't know.
For the first time in two lifetimes, he didn't know.
Lira appeared beside him.
"You're thinking," she said.
"Always."
She stood beside him, looking out at the road. "We're going to find something out there."
He nodded. "We are."
She was quiet for a moment. "Are you ready?"
He looked at her. At the bow across her back, the quiver at her hip, the steadiness in her eyes.
"We're as ready as we'll ever be."
She almost smiled. "That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I have."
---
Dawn came slowly.
The sky lightened, gray to pink to gold. The torches guttered and died. The courtyard filled with light.
The company gathered at the gate.
Grog was there, his sword at his hip, his pouch at his belt, his arm still bandaged. Lira was there, her bow across her back, her quiver full. Aldric was there, on his horse, his leg propped, his cane tied to his saddle. Mirena was there, her staff in her hand, her books in her pack. William was there, his sword at his hip, his back straight, his eyes clear.
Gwen was there, her horse beside Aldric's, her sword at her hip, her face calm.
The Duke stood at the top of the steps, his children beside him. Edward stood apart, his arms crossed, his face unreadable. Commander Vance stood near the gate, his eyes on the road.
The Duke spoke. "Come back."
Grog nodded. "We will."
He turned his horse. Rode through the gate.
The others followed.
The road stretched ahead, into the hills, into the unknown.
They rode.