Kane steps forward and begins removing my chains.
One by one, they fall away.
As they do, Ignis shifts.
It's subtle, but deliberate. Her stance tightens, her body angled, ready to act at a moment's notice. If I move the wrong way, she will not hesitate.
She expects violence.
So does he.
I stand slowly, rolling my shoulders, stretching muscles that feel restrained and unfamiliar after being bound.
For a moment—
I consider it.
Attacking.
The thought comes naturally. Instinctively.
Before it can take shape—
the door opens.
Aphrodite steps inside.
The tension shifts.
"It seems you accepted the deal," she says.
I say nothing.
Kane immediately steps between us, placing himself in her path without hesitation. Protective. Reflexive.
"I'll begin preparations at once," he says, his voice returning to command. "We leave in three days. The journey to the academy will take at least a week."
He turns slightly, already thinking ahead.
"I'll arrange somewhere for you to stay until—"
"I'll remain here."
My voice cuts through his.
He stops.
"The prison is sufficient."
A pause.
"Do not disturb me until it is time to depart."
The air grows heavier.
"Or there will be consequences."
Silence follows.
They look at me differently now—not just wary, but uncertain.
"Leave."
The word is quiet.
Final.
Ignis is the first to move.
She turns without a word, though her eyes linger on me—sharp, calculating.
Kane follows, his expression unreadable. He grabs Aphrodite's hand and pulls her along.
She resists for a moment.
"I—"
The door closes before she can finish.
Her words never reach me.
Silence returns.
I sit in the center of the cell.
Unrestrained.
Yet I remain.
I close my eyes.
The sounds are there.
They always are.
Steel clashing. Voices breaking. The endless rhythm of war echoing in my mind.
I focus.
I let it pull me inward.
Deeper.
Closer.
Something shifts.
Subtle. Hidden.
Then—
I open my eyes.
A faint fire burns within them.
Elsewhere—
Ignis walks beside Kane, her pace sharp, her expression tight.
"He's unstable," she says. "A war-monger. He's the kind of thing we're supposed to protect her from."
Her voice lowers.
"I'd trust a goblin, an orc—even a dragon—before I trust him."
Kane stops.
"Exactly."
Ignis frowns. "That's not reassuring."
"I don't fully understand him," Kane continues, unmoved. "Or what he is. That is why we secure him as an ally now… before he comes to understand it himself."
Ignis studies him, uneasy.
"With him at Aphrodite's side," Kane adds, "there's no telling what she could become."
He exhales slowly.
"I've spent my life measuring strength. Potential. You learn to recognize it at a glance."
His gaze shifts back toward the prison.
"That man's potential… is equal to, if not greater than, Aphrodite's."
Aphrodite steps forward, cutting in.
"That's not right," she says firmly. "You're talking about him like he's something to use."
They both look at her.
"He's not a weapon," she continues. "He's a person."
Ignis crosses her arms.
"A person doesn't sit calmly in a prison cell by choice," she says.
Kane answers calmly.
"He made his decision. He agreed to go."
Ignis presses further.
"And how do we control him? He doesn't seem like someone who can be kept on a leash."
Kane doesn't hesitate.
"If anyone can… it's Aphrodite."
Ignis says nothing.
Kane continues.
"He had no reason to spare me. Or anyone else."
A pause.
"If he did… it was because of her."
Silence settles.
Time passes.
Back in the cell—
I remain seated.
Still.
Focused.
But something is different now.
Subtle.
As if something within me has shifted.
Not fully understood.
But real.
The door opens again.
Aphrodite steps inside.
I open my eyes.
The fire is gone.
Or hidden.
She stays near the door at first, hesitant.
Then slowly approaches.
"So…" she says softly, "are you going to tell me your name?"
A pause.
"I am Ares."
The name feels right.
As if it was always mine.
She smiles faintly.
"It's nice to meet you, Ares."
She glances back toward the door.
"My father doesn't know I'm here," she says.
Then she looks at me again.
"Are you… dangerous?"
I meet her gaze.
"I could kill you before anyone heard you scream."
She doesn't flinch.
"No," she says. "I don't think you would."
She is right.
But not for the reasons I've told myself.
It is not just that she is unarmed.
There is something else.
Something I do not understand.
She smiles again, softer now.
"Thank you… for agreeing to be my guard."
She steps back toward the door.
"I should go before he notices I'm gone."
She hesitates—
then leaves.
The door closes.
I am alone again.