After a bath, a change of sheets and a full breakfast, I was dressed and walking into the Castle's bailey.

The courtyard was nearly empty. It was too early in the morning for the servants, guards and visitors to populate the grounds. It wouldn't be much of a sendoff, but time was of the essence.

In the middle of the path between the Keep and the gatehouse, three figures stood in a loose circle. I walked towards them, making out Castille, Dugan and Thor in the middle of a conversation.

"Last chance to change your mind," Castille said.

Dugan shook his head.

"We always agreed... The living before the dead. He'll be waiting for me when we get back."

He must have been talking about his father.

Thor grunted in my direction, causing Castille and Dugan to turn.

Castille still wore her black gambeson and matching black eye patch. Another black patch covered the silver antlers embroidered on her old military uniform. She had washed the makeup off her face, leaving her skin rough and raw from new and old scars. Her black hair was messy, tousled from whatever she and Dugan had done since I last saw them.

Dugan wore his brown leathers, a new bearded axe on his hip and his shield, Dawn, strapped to his back. He crossed his thick arms when he saw me. His eyes narrowed in the storm of curly, brown hair that framed his face.

And Thor… was Thor.

"Jacob, you're in a good mood," Castille said, putting one hand on her hip, the other on the pommel of Dusk.

"Morning..."

I gave them an awkward wave.

"Did you talk to her?"

"Aye, I convinced her not to kill you on sight. The rest is up to you."

"But you're our leader."

"And it's her mission. She's the boss."

I grumbled, but I couldn't complain. I knew I would need Isla's support if I wanted to go to Dahlgesh.

I took a deep breath.

I needed to go.

Besides Sin's ominous warning, the capital was going to be swarming with inquisitors investigating the death of High Sanctifier Alden. The last thing I needed now was a run-in with Reed or some other power-hungry inquisitor.

And then, there were my personal reasons for going. The Dahlgeshi knew the secret of mastering fire. The only way I could think of to free me and Cynthia from the pain of her traumatic death. Helping Isla secure peace with Dahlgesh was my best chance of finding this information.

She's coming!

I winced, Cynthia's voice ringing in my head.

Can you lower the volume?

Sorry! I mean… sorry.

How does she look?

Serious. She's coming through the door now.

I turned a moment before Isla walked onto the bailey. In less than a day, she had found a better-fitting dress. Silver embroidery decorated the neckline and cuffs of its light blue fabric. The elegant material was offset by her thick leather weapons belt and matching brown boots. Her navy-blue cloak draped over her shoulders, and her steely blue eyes stared right through me.

She marched towards us, more confident than I'd ever seen her. Responsibility fit her as well as her clothes. Cynthia floated behind her, her simple white shift and long blonde hair flowing in an ethereal wind. I almost cracked a smile at the contrast.

"Castille," Isla said, brushing past me without a word. "Here, a letter of pardon for your brother."

The Northern woman's eyes lit up. She took the letter with both hands before passing it to Dugan. The shorter man turned to Thor and started unfastening the straps of the pack animal's saddlebags.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"Thank you. Did you give the King my best wishes?"

Isla gave her a tight-lipped smile.

"I did."

Her eyes flicked to me.

"You. Let's talk over there."

I nodded, letting her lead me into the grassy lawn out of the earshot of the others. Cynthia floated between us, turning back to look at me with an anxious expression.

She didn't like my chances. Neither did I.

"Uh, did you tell your father about yesterday?"

"Yes. He said he would look into it, personally."

I nodded.

"D-Did you talk to Castille?"

Isla nodded, coming to a stop in the middle of the lawn. She turned, one eye on the gatehouse and the other on me. Her arms crossed in a defensive posture.

"She told me to hear you out. So-"

She gestured.

"I'm hearing you out."

I tried to swallow, but my mouth was dry like old paper.

Here goes nothing.

"Isla… I… I…"

I sighed, shaking my head.

"Isla, there's nothing I can say... Every bad thing you think about me is true. I'm a liar. I'm a coward. I'm an accomplice. You should arrest me, throw me in a dungeon and wring out every secret that I'm hiding. What I don't understand is… why haven't you?"

"Because you're my friend…"

Isla whispered the words, the pain obvious in her eyes.

"You were my first friend, Jacob. The one person I trusted outside my family. And you took that trust, and… and…"

She threw up her hands, palms up, like throwing ashes in the air to be carried away by the wind.

Isla let a pained sigh.

"I can't do this anymore. I can't trust you not to hurt me again."

I gave her a grim nod.

"You're right."

Isla looked up at me, almost in tears.

"I'm right?"

Cynthia floated to my left side, putting a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"You're right. You couldn't trust me. I didn't tell you the truth because I was afraid. A psychopath raised me, and I'm afraid she could be watching us right now. I'm afraid of what she will do. I'm afraid I can't beat her. I'm afraid of becoming her. I'm afraid you can see her in me. I'm afraid I can't think for myself. I'm afraid that every good thing in my life is about to be taken away. It's you—all of you: Castille, Dugan, even Thor."

I turned to glance at Cynthia.

"From now on, I swear I'll be honest to you because, if I'm not, I'll lose you, and my greatest fear would be realized. I'll be honest about everything… Even your flaws."

Isla sniffled.

"Flaws? What flaws?"

I blinked.

Shit. Did I say out loud?

You did…

Out of the corner of my eye, Cynthia smiled.

Don't stop now. I think it's working.

I took a deep breath. Here goes everything.

"Ever since Kateen's estate, who've been violent—abusive. You would have killed me yesterday if your father hadn't stopped you."

I let out a bitter laugh, surprised by a sudden rush of emotions that made my eyes water.

"Why didn't I see it until now? First Sin, then Reed, and now you. It's like a pattern—a cycle. Just when I think I'm free, I'm pulled back in."

I rubbed at my eyes.

"I'm done being a victim, and if you don't want to become a monster like them, you need to change."

Isla's face twitched into a snarl, and I realized my mistake.

I had just compared her to a woman involved in the murder of her mother and another woman who set up her kidnapping and assault.

I braced myself for another attack, but it didn't come.

Isla wrestled control over her emotions and met my eyes with a neutral stare.

"What do you suggest?"

I let out a sigh of relief.

"Keep me around. I'll be honest, and I can tell you when you're going too far. As you can see, I'm not afraid to."

After a long moment, the corners of Isla's mouth twitched into a tight-lipped smile.

"Convenient. Your solution puts you back on the mission."

I shrugged.

"Crazy how that worked out."

Isla huffed, tension releasing from her shoulders.

"I'll hire you as my advisor for a few months, and we'll take it from there."

I smiled.

"Is this a paid position?"

She smirked.

"No, consider it community service."

Isla blinked, the smirk wiping off her face.

"Jacob… You know, whatever was between us is done now, right? I don't want to get your hopes up."

I nodded, glancing at an amused Cynthia.

"I know, but maybe we can build something better."

I reached out my hand.

"Friends."

"Teammates," Isla corrected. "And no more secrets."

"No more secrets. I promise."

We shook hands, and the colour drained from Isla's face.

"Jacob… There's a woman beside you, and she's floating…"

"You can see me?!"

"She can talk?!

I turned from one woman to the other.

"Isla, meet Cynthia. My fiancé."

"You're what?!"

The grinding of iron chains interrupted our conversation.

Our heads jerked from Cynthia to the entrance of the gatehouse. The black iron portcullis groaned open, and a team of white horses strutted through the gates, the sheen of their fur almost metallic.

They pulled a white carriage with gold trim encrusting its wheels and wooden panels. Two lines of mounted guards followed behind it. They wore gambesons the colour of sun-dried oranges, the golden lion of House Sumner embroidered on their chest.

The carriage rolled to a stop, and one window slid open. Serena Sumner's flawless face poked out of the opening.

"Heroes of Luskaine! You're carriage awaits..."

Isla and I glanced at each other.

"Talk later?"

"Yeah."

We assembled in front of the carriage, Cynthia floating a step behind me.

Castille turned and gave me an approving nod.

"So, you made the cut."

"He's temporary," Isla said.

"Aren't we all," Dugan grumbled.

Thor wheezed out a laugh.

I couldn't help but smile.

This is where I belonged. This is where I was needed.

We were one team with one mission and many motives: to save our family, to be free of pain, to be made whole, to end a war.

All roads led South.

All roads led…

to Dahlgesh!

NOTE 1: This incredible artwork is courtesy of Arina (also known as "arinagleb1" on Discord). Their portfolio can be found here. If you are interested in their services, reach out on Discord. NOTE 2: Castille's eye patch should be on the right side. Small mistake on our part.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.