Outside the shack, the forest stirred with the distant clatter of hooves as dawn just began to break through the night. A barely visible line of light shattering the darkness.

Oldren and his steed emerged from the treeline first, his beard tangled with wind and his expression sour as ever. Behind him, Jade followed, reins in hand, leading a young, spirited, stallion behind his own, the young Chesnut's back burdened with supplies—bedrolls, sacks of dried meat, healing salves, and weapon oil. All of it bought from the nearest town just under a day's ride out.

"Bloody overpriced dungheap of a market," Oldren grumbled, swinging off his horse with a groan. "Charged meh triple fer flint and half-sour bread."

Jade snorted, tossing a satchel onto a stump. "You nearly throttled the vendor, Oldren. Maybe don't argue with the price after you insult the man's mother."

"She tried to sell me spoiled cheese!"

"Still his mother." The young Elven boy sighed.

Oldren waved it off with a grunt, already unloading gear from the horse. "Supplies'll last us a week, give or take."

Jade pulled his horse to a stop.

"She's already awake, isn't she?" he asked softly, staring at the smoke curling from the nearest shack.

Oldren's jaw flexed. "Aye. And I'd wager she ain't stayin' long after we've arrived."

Jade, quieter now, glanced toward the shack. "She's not going to allow any rest is she?"

Oldren shook his head. "No, she'll be ready. She always is when it's reckless and damned near suicidal."

Jade's gaze darkened. "She's going after a dead man, isn't she?"

Oldren looked up, locking eyes with the elf. He could see doubt behind those Emerald eyes.

"You tell me, lad. She loved Rok more than she even let on. Of course she's going regardless of the possibility."

A rustle caught their ears—bootsteps over grit. The door to the shack opened, and Onyx stepped out into the dimmed light, a freshly-sharpened blade strapped across her back. Her eyes were sharp and dry now, carved from something colder than before.

Behind her, like a silent shadow, Dezenym followed.

Oldren stopped what he was doing. "Well I'll be damned..."

Jade blinked, then whispered, "He's real."

"Ye need a drink, too much happen'en all at once" The old dwarf grumbled.

Onyx walked right past them both without a word, heading toward the horses. She ran her hand along the neck of the largest steed—a black war mount with scars on its flank—and gave a single nod.

"I take the front," she said. "We move now, it's already been too long."

Oldren cleared his throat, glancing between father and daughter. "And him?"

Dezenym met his gaze without flinching. "I ride with her."

Jade swallowed hard, tension thick in the air. "Then I guess it's war again."

Onyx tightened the strap on her shoulder and whispered without looking back,

"No... it never stopped."