The scent of warm bread and weak broth drifted through the air, mingling with the lingering smoke from the low-burning hearth. The tavern was quiet in the early morning, save for the occasional clatter of dishes from the innkeeper's wife behind the counter. Outside, the village of Duskwatch stirred to life with the soft murmur of voices and the distant creak of wagon wheels over frost-hardened dirt.

Raelyn sat with her companions at a rough-hewn wooden table, their meal simple but appreciated. The bread was dense, torn into uneven chunks, and the broth, though thin and barely seasoned, carried just enough warmth to be a comfort. It wasn't much—just what the innkeeper had left to spare—but with the days of travel and uncertainty ahead, none of them complained.

Hovan dipped a piece of bread into his bowl, chewing thoughtfully. Across from him, Thomrik ate in a similar fashion, tearing off pieces of bread and soaking them in his broth to soften the tough crust. Danio, on the other hand, barely touched his food, absently pushing chunks of bread around on his plate. He hadn't spoken much since sitting down, instead wearing an expression that was unlike him—tense, thoughtful.

Rakz sat by Raelyn's feet, gnawing at a chicken leg that the innkeeper had given him, his small claws scratching softly against the wooden floor. The rhythmic crunch of bone and cartilage was the only consistent sound between them, filling the silence that hung over the table.

Raelyn took a slow sip of her broth. It was bland, almost watery, but the heat of it spread through her, soothing the morning chill.

She glanced at the others. The mood around the table was heavy, as if they all felt the weight of what lay ahead. No one had spoken since they sat down, and that silence stretched, unbroken, until finally, Hovan set his bowl down.

"I know we talked about this last night," he said. "and we agreed to wait for Sylvy and Lira, but we can't wait forever."

Raelyn stiffened slightly. She had known this conversation wasn't over.

Hovan drew in a slow breath and released it, rubbing his thumb against the edge of his bowl. "The longer we sit here, the greater the risk that Baragor figures it out—realizes the weapon is in Bromaric."

His voice was steady, calm, but there was no mistaking the firm undercurrent of urgency beneath it. "We should leave soon," he added, shifting his gaze from Raelyn to Thomrik, then Danio and finally Benji. "Every day we linger puts us at a greater disadvantage."

Raelyn lowered her spoon, letting her fingers rest against the rough wood of the table. "Sylvy and Lira will come." she said, her voice quieter but firm. She met Hovan's gaze across the table. 

Hovan exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his face. "And what if they don't? What if something happened to them?" he asked, glancing toward the tavern's front door as if expecting the elves to walk in at that moment.

For just a second, the hardened lines of his face softened, his brows knitting together in something close to concern. Raelyn caught the flicker of emotion before he schooled his expression, but it was enough—she knew.

Hovan wasn't just thinking about the mission.

She had seen how close he and Sylvy had grown. It wasn't just that she and Lira were strong allies; they mattered to him in a way he wasn't about to voice aloud. And for someone like Hovan, who weighed every decision like a blade balanced in his palm, this wasn't an easy call to make.

His fingers curled into a loose fist against the table before he let out a slow, controlled breath. "If we delay too long, we risk everything."

"We risk everything if we go in without them," she countered, shifting in her seat. "If we're going to do this, we need every advantage."

Thomrik grunted, tearing another piece of bread off. "She's got a point," he said. "Rushing in with fewer numbers is never a smart play. And from what you've told me about them, they ain't the type to be dead weight. Sounds like they'd be damn useful in a scrap."

Hovan didn't immediately argue, but Raelyn could tell he wasn't convinced. He leaned back slightly, pressing his knuckles against the edge of the table.

Benji, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke. "If they were delayed, they'd find another way here," he said, glancing between Hovan and Raelyn. "I mean, it's not like Sylvy to give up on a fight. And Lira wouldn't leave us if she had the chance to come."

Hovan sighed, shaking his head. "I don't disagree," he admitted. "But we can't afford to sit idle indefinitely. It's only a matter of time before Baragor's forces catch our scent. If we stay here too long, we may not get a choice in when we leave. Right now we have the element of surprise. Right now we have the upper hand."

Raelyn clenched her jaw. She knew he was right, but it didn't make it any easier to hear.

Hovan turned toward the bar. "We could leave a message with the innkeeper. That way, if Sylvy and Lira arrive after we've gone, they'll know how to find us."

Raelyn hesitated. The idea of leaving without them, even with the chance of them catching up, unsettled her. But what other option did they have?

Hovan must have sensed it. His voice softened slightly. "We can't wait forever."

She swallowed and nodded, though it was reluctant.

Thomrik leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "Then let's give it until dawn tomorrow. If they're not here by then, we leave."

Hovan inclined his head in agreement.

After a long moment, Danio let out a slow breath and forced an ease into his voice that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"And, uh... let's say we do leave," he said, rolling his shoulders like he was trying to shake off something unpleasant. "How exactly are we supposed to make it through Bromaric without getting torn apart?"

Hovan locked eyes with him. "We'll go over the plan together."

Danio let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Oh, good. A plan. I feel better already."

The words came out sharper than intended. The others glanced at him, and Danio immediately seemed to regret it. He exhaled through his nose and rubbed a hand over his face, as if wiping away whatever frustration had crept into his voice.

Hovan's expression didn't change. "There is a plan," he said simply.

Danio pressed his lips together before exhaling and slumped back in his chair. He looked like he wanted to say something else—his lips parted slightly—but instead, he just sighed. For a moment, Raelyn considered pressing him on it, but before she could, he sighed and waved a hand dismissively.

"Never mind. Forget it."

Raelyn frowned slightly, her eyes flicking toward Thomrik, who met her gaze with a subtle, knowing look. Danio's behavior was... off. He had always been quick to criticize their journey and reluctant to embrace the danger, but this felt different.

Still, no one said anything about it.

Benji, as always, was the first to break the tension. "Whatever comes, we'll handle it together," he said, offering Danio a reassuring look.

Danio hesitated, then let out a quiet chuckle. "You're way too optimistic," he muttered, shaking his head.

Benji grinned. "Someone has to be."

Raelyn stirred the last of her broth with her spoon before looking toward Thomrik. "Will you be working at the forge today?"

Thomrik swallowed a mouthful of bread and nodded. "Aye, the innkeeper asked if I'd take a look at his horse's shoes. Wants me to rework the iron and reset them before they crack completely."

Benji smirked, nudging his bowl aside. "Didn't take you for a farrier, Thomrik."

The dwarf huffed. "I work with metal, lad. Doesn't matter if it's a blade or a horseshoe—same principles, different purpose." He took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. "Besides, the poor beast looked like it was walking on nails. Thought I'd do the thing a favor."

Raelyn smiled slightly. "At least someone in this town is keeping busy."

Before Thomrik could respond, the tavern door swung open, slamming against the wall with a gust of cold morning air.

The tavern fell silent.

A few of the patrons stiffened, hands twitching toward concealed weapons, their gazes snapping toward the entrance. The rush of wind stirred the dust in the air, making the dim candlelight flicker. Two imposing figures stood in the doorway, cloaked and hooded, their silhouettes stark against the bright outside light.

For a moment, Raelyn's breath caught.

Then, one of the figures shifted, stepping forward with easy confidence, her voice cutting through the hushed air.

"What? No warm welcome?"

Raelyn's heart leaped in recognition before she even saw their faces.

The first figure—Lira—lifted her hands to her hood and pulled it back with a graceful motion, revealing long auburn hair, loose and flowing like strands of silk, the soft waves framing her delicate yet unmistakably elven features. A silver circlet, engraved with intertwining vines and adorned with a single emerald, rested against her brow. Beneath her cloak, she wore flowing robes of deep green, embroidered with golden leaf patterns. The fabric was light, moving with her as if responding to the very air itself, marking her as a druid of Anderwyn.

Beside her, Sylvy pushed her hood back with a smirk, her emerald-green eyes resting on Raelyn and her companions. Unlike her twin's loose waves, Sylvy's auburn hair was tightly braided back, exposing the strong angles of her face and her pointed ears. She was clad in dark green leather armor, fitted snugly for agility, each piece reinforced with fine elven craftsmanship. At her sides rested two elegantly curved elven blades, sheathed in elaborately decorated scabbards, the silver inlays catching the dim light. Two daggers were strapped to her thighs, their hilts positioned for a quick draw. Where Lira carried the aura of a sage touched by nature's grace, Sylvy stood as a seasoned warrior, every inch of her posture ready for battle.

Raelyn didn't hesitate. She pushed back her chair and rushed forward, a smile breaking across her face.

Benji was right behind her, standing so quickly that his chair scraped loudly against the floor. His grin was wide with genuine excitement at the sight of the elves.

Rakz lifted his head, his golden eyes flicking toward the two newcomers. A chewed chicken bone stuck out of his maw at an awkward angle, but after a brief glance, he let out a quiet huff and returned to chewing it, entirely unbothered by the arrival of the elves.

"Lira! Sylvy!" Raelyn called, her voice bright with relief.

Lira barely had time to brace herself before Raelyn wrapped her arms around her, hugging her tightly. Lira chuckled softly, returning the embrace with warmth.

"I'm so happy to see you again!" Raelyn said, her voice almost breathless.

Lira's smile was just as bright. "And we were so happy to hear from you. We're glad we could finally help."

Meanwhile, Benji grinned and stepped up to Sylvy. He reached for a handshake, but before he could react, Sylvy ignored his hand entirely and instead ruffled his hair with a playful grin.

"We thought maybe you wouldn't come," Benji said, smoothing down his tousled hair, though he was clearly pleased to see her.

Sylvy scoffed. "And miss out on all the fun? Not a chance."

Sylvy turned her sharp eyes on Raelyn and Benji, looking them over from head to toe. "You've changed," she noted, crossing her arms.

She turned to Benji, narrowing her eyes playfully. "Didn't take you for the type to bulk up, farm boy."

Benji blushed and rolled his shoulders. "It's just from all the running and fighting. You'd be surprised how quickly you get stronger when you have demons breathing down your neck."

Sylvy chuckled. "Fair enough."

Lira, who had been watching Raelyn closely, stepped back slightly and smiled. "And you, Raelyn... I can sense your growth in magic."

Raelyn's cheeks warmed slightly at the praise, though she felt a quiet pride at Lira's words. "I've been practicing," she admitted. "But I still have a long way to go."

Lira's smile deepened. "We all do."

Sylvy clapped a hand on Benji's shoulder. "Well, this is off to a good start. Now, who wants to tell me what the hell I missed?"

Benji smirked. "You're going to want to sit down for this one."