Elsa left before sunrise.
That was deliberate.
People are kinder in silence.
Morning changes that.
Morning brings memory.
Questions.
Fear returning stronger than gratitude.
So she walked before the village fully woke.
---
The road curved through wet fields and thin forests.
Cold wind brushed against her face.
Her arm still hurt slightly from cleansing the corruption.
Not physical pain.
Something deeper.
Exhaustion.
Giving instead of taking had cost her.
More than she expected.
---
"You could have absorbed it."
The thought lingered.
Easy.
Natural.
Efficient.
Instead—
She had forced herself to heal.
To protect.
Like him.
---
Her chest tightened slightly.
She kept walking.
---
By noon, rain began falling lightly.
Not enough to soak the ground.
Enough to make the world quieter.
Elsa pulled her cloak tighter and continued down the road.
Then—
Hoofbeats.
Fast.
Too many.
---
She stopped.
Turned slightly.
A merchant carriage sped toward her from the eastern road.
Broken wheel dragging badly.
Two horses panicked.
And behind it—
Three mounted men.
Bandits.
---
"Move!" the merchant screamed.
Elsa stepped aside instinctively.
The carriage rushed past her.
One wheel finally snapped completely.
The cart overturned violently.
Wood shattered.
People screamed.
---
The bandits laughed.
One dismounted immediately.
"Easy money."
Another spotted Elsa standing in the rain.
Red horns visible beneath her hood.
He froze briefly.
"…What the hell is that?"
---
Fear again.
Always immediate.
Always first.
---
The merchant family crawled from the wreckage.
A father.
An older woman.
And a little girl clutching a torn doll.
The child saw Elsa.
And unlike the adults—
She didn't recoil.
Not yet.
---
One bandit spat toward Elsa.
"Stay out of this, freak."
Elsa's gaze shifted toward the family.
The father pulled the little girl behind him immediately.
Protective.
Afraid.
Of her.
Not the men with blades.
That landed harder than it should have.
---
The bandit leader laughed.
"Look at that. Even they know you're a monster."
Silence.
Rain tapping softly against the dirt.
---
Elsa could leave.
She understood that immediately.
This wasn't her responsibility.
No one here trusted her.
No one wanted her here.
If she walked away—
No one could blame her.
---
The little girl peeked from behind her father's arm.
Scared.
Confused.
Small fingers gripping the doll tightly.
---
Memory struck hard.
A burning city.
A child crying.
A father shielding her.
---
Elsa exhaled slowly.
Then stepped forward.
---
The bandits stiffened.
One drew his sword immediately.
"I said stay back."
Elsa ignored him.
The leader's expression hardened.
"Kill it."
---
The first man charged.
Wild.
Untrained.
Elsa sidestepped effortlessly.
Caught his wrist.
Twisted.
The sword dropped.
One strike to the stomach.
He collapsed gasping.
Alive.
---
The second attacked from behind.
She turned sharply—
Too sharply.
Heat surged instinctively.
Flames erupted from her arm.
The man screamed once.
Then fell burning into the mud.
Dead.
---
Silence.
The rain hissed against the fire.
---
Elsa froze.
Not because of the death.
Because of how easy it had become.
---
"You're getting used to it."
Again.
That voice.
Her own.
---
The final bandit backed away in terror.
"Monster…"
He fled immediately.
Didn't even look back.
---
The road fell silent except for rain.
Elsa slowly turned toward the merchant family.
The father stared at the burning corpse.
Then at her.
Horror filling his face.
---
"I saved you."
The words almost came out.
She stopped them.
Because she already knew.
It wouldn't matter.
---
The older woman pulled the child closer.
Away from Elsa.
Fear.
Again.
---
Then the little girl slipped free.
Before anyone could stop her—
She walked toward Elsa slowly.
The adults panicked.
"Lina, no!"
---
Elsa stood still.
Rain dripping from her hair.
Steam rising faintly from her arm.
---
The little girl looked up at her.
Not at the horns.
Not at the flames.
At her.
Then quietly held out the torn doll.
---
Elsa blinked.
"…What?"
The girl hesitated.
Then spoke softly.
"You're hurt too."
Silence.
Complete.
Absolute.
---
Elsa looked down.
Her hand was trembling.
Slightly burned from suppressing the flames too quickly.
She hadn't noticed.
---
The child pushed the doll forward again.
A simple gesture.
Innocent.
Human.
---
Behind her, the father looked terrified.
But the little girl didn't move away.
---
Elsa slowly knelt.
Carefully.
As if sudden movement might destroy the moment.
She stared at the doll.
Then at the girl.
"…You're not afraid?"
The child thought about it seriously.
Then shook her head.
"You saved us."
Simple.
Direct.
Enough.
---
Something inside Elsa cracked slightly.
Not rage.
Not grief.
Something softer.
More painful.
---
She carefully pushed the doll back toward the girl.
"You should keep it."
The child nodded immediately.
Then smiled.
Small.
Gentle.
---
Elsa stared at that smile longer than she should have.
Because it hurt.
Because it reminded her of something she lost.
---
The father finally stepped forward cautiously.
Still afraid.
But trying.
"…Thank you."
The words were strained.
Difficult.
Real.
---
Elsa stood slowly.
Rain falling harder now.
She looked at the dead bandit once.
Then away.
---
"I didn't want to kill him."
The father swallowed hard.
"But you protected us."
---
Silence.
Then Elsa answered quietly—
"That's what he used to say."
---
She turned.
Walked back toward the road.
---
"Wait!"
The little girl again.
Elsa paused.
The child smiled brightly despite the rain.
"Don't be sad anymore."
---
That one hurt the most.
Because children say impossible things like they're simple.
---
Elsa gave the faintest smile.
Small.
Fragile.
Gone almost immediately.
Then she walked away into the rain.
---
Behind her—
The merchant family watched silently.
Not calling her monster.
Not calling her hero either.
Just…
watching.
---
And far away—
In the capital—
Reports continued to spread.
Sightings.
Burned men.
A red-horned dragon-blood wandering freely.
Fear growing faster than truth.
---
Jack read every report in silence.
And with each page—
The weight of Edward's final words grew heavier.
"Protect her."