The sky had turned a deep shade of orange as the last rays of daylight dipped behind the distant hills, casting long shadows across the road. The air was cool but comfortable, a welcome relief after the heat of the day. The sound of Solene's laughter echoed through the quiet evening as she ran in circles, her small feet kicking up the grass and dirt, her golden curls bouncing with each joyful step.

She was free here—untouched by the weight of the world we had left behind. The innocence in her movements, the sheer joy of a child who had never known anything but love and care, made the air feel lighter. Despite the uncertainty of our journey, despite the burden I carried, seeing her so happy reminded me of what was truly at stake. Her future. Her safety.

Mathew was crouched by the small campfire, carefully tending to the flames. The crackling of the wood filled the quiet around us as he added more kindling, his focused movements calm and steady. The flicker of the firelight danced on his face, highlighting the tired lines beneath his eyes. Even in moments like this—when we were far from the village, out on a road filled with danger and uncertainty—he managed to keep his composure. It was a gift, and it was something I leaned on.

I watched Solene chase a moth, her laughter ringing out like a song, before she stumbled and fell into the soft grass. I rushed to her, but she just giggled and scrambled to her feet, brushing off the dirt with her small hands. I couldn't help but smile at her resilience.

Mathew's voice broke through my thoughts, low but clear. "I'm glad we're stopping here. It feels good to let her play." His words were calm, almost casual, but I knew he was feeling the weight of our journey just as much as I was.

I nodded, stepping closer to the fire. "She deserves this, you know?" I said, my eyes following Solene as she twirled around again. "She needs something to hold onto, something to remind her of the life we want to give her."

Mathew glanced up from the fire, his face softening when he saw Solene's antics. "She'll have it. As long as we're here, she'll always have a home."

The warmth of the fire felt good on my skin, and I took a deep breath, trying to clear my mind. But the road ahead weighed heavily on my heart. We couldn't delay our meeting with Kendrick for long. He was waiting for us, and there was no telling what kind of reception we'd get.

"Do you think Eric can persuade the elves?" I asked, breaking the silence that had settled between us.

Mathew's expression was thoughtful as he added a few more branches to the fire. "Hard to say," he replied. "Learning about your powers should make them think twice."

I didn't answer right away, my eyes wandering back to Solene. She had picked up a stick and was pretending it was a sword, her small hands holding it high as she 'fought' invisible foes in the twilight. I chuckled softly to myself. Even at her young age, she understood the weight of what was happening around her—maybe not fully, but enough to try to make sense of it in her own way.

"I just wish I had someone to teach me, guide me," I said finally, my voice low and desperate. "What if I had killed you all?"

Mathew looked at me, his eyes meeting mine with an understanding that didn't need words. "You didn't," he said firmly. "Which means you had some sort of controle, even though it didn't feel like you did."

As the fire crackled between us and Solene's laughter filled the air, I allowed myself a moment to believe that everything could still turn out alright. But only a moment. The road ahead would not be easy, and the stakes were higher than I could ever have imagined. We had to succeed. For Solene. For the kingdom. For each other.

The warmth of the fire had faded into the cool embrace of the night as we lay close to each other, forming a protective barrier around the child with our bodies. The crackling of the embers was the only sound breaking the silence, and for a moment, I let the peacefulness of it all wash over me. It was the first time in a while that I felt something akin to safety. The familiar weight of Mathew's presence beside me, the soft rise and fall of Solene's breath in her sleep—it was all so... normal. So right.

But sleep did not come easily.

The moment I closed my eyes, my mind was flooded with images. The faces of those I had lost haunted me, their eyes filled with silent accusations. I couldn't save them. I couldn't protect them. Every time I thought I had done everything I could, it felt like it was never enough.

And then there was the overwhelming weight of the upcoming meeting with Kendrick. What if it all went wrong? What if we were walking into a trap? What if he had already made his decision, and no amount of negotiation would change the outcome?

I turned restlessly on the ground, trying to shake the thoughts away, but they clung to me like shadows. My thoughts twisted into darker paths—visions of the future where we failed. Solene, growing up without us. Mathew, left to carry the burden alone. The kingdom falling, its people scattered and broken. And me? I was the cause of it all. I had let them down.

A chill crept into my bones despite the warmth of the fire, and I found myself awake, staring into the flickering flames. My heart pounded in my chest, the rhythm of my breath quickening as the fear threatened to consume me. They weren't nightmares, not in the traditional sense. There had been no monsters or darkness chasing me. Instead, it was the crushing weight of my own doubt, my own guilt, that threatened to swallow me whole.

I glanced over at Solene, her small form curled up between Mathew and me, her innocent face peaceful in sleep. She didn't know the weight of the world that rested on us. She didn't know the dangers that lay ahead. She couldn't. Not yet.

Mathew shifted beside me, his steady breathing grounding me for a moment, but the questions swirled again. What if I couldn't protect them? What if we failed? What if Kendrick betrayed us?

I let out a shaky breath, trying to calm my mind, but sleep remained just out of reach. The weight of my responsibilities pressed down on me with each passing second. All I could do was hope that when the time came, I would be strong enough. That we would be strong enough.

"You will be," a soft voice echoed in my mind. I froze, my heart skipping a beat. It was soft, soothing, but undeniably real. The kind of voice that you could almost feel brushing against your thoughts, as if it belonged to someone standing right beside you. "You are strong enough." The words were calm, certain. But the tone, the essence of it, felt different—almost otherworldly.

I blinked, disoriented. Had I fallen into some sort of trance? The fire crackled softly beside us, but the sound seemed distant now, muffled by the quiet weight of the voice in my head.

For a moment, I thought I imagined it. Maybe the exhaustion had finally caught up to me, and I was slipping into delirium. But no—there was something tangible about this presence, something grounding that kept me tethered to the moment, even as my pulse raced in confusion.

"Who... who are you?" I whispered, barely daring to speak the words out loud, afraid that the voice would disappear if I acknowledged it too fully.

A gentle laugh echoed in my mind, like the rustling of leaves in a breeze, warm and familiar, yet strange.

"You know me," the voice said, soft yet certain. "I've always been here. I've always been with you."

I furrowed my brow, trying to place it. There was a strange recognition stirring within me, but I couldn't quite reach it. A memory, just out of my grasp. A connection I had failed to understand.

The fire flickered, casting odd shadows around the camp. Mathew was still asleep, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythms. Solene's breathing, too, was slow and peaceful, unaffected by the turmoil in my mind. But I couldn't escape the pull of the voice.

"I don't understand," I whispered. "I've been trying to connect with you for so long... Why now?"

A pause, a beat of silence, before the voice answered again.

"Because now, you are ready." The words were firm, laced with a quiet strength that made my chest tighten. "Now, you can hear me. You've been through so much, Adrian. But you will be the leader they need. You are stronger than you realize."

I felt something stir inside of me—something deep, something powerful. It wasn't just reassurance. It was a shift, as though a piece of myself that had been broken for so long was finally mending. The weight on my shoulders, heavy and suffocating as it was, suddenly seemed more bearable. A spark of clarity emerged in the midst of my doubt.

The voice continued, a calming presence in the storm of my thoughts. "You do not walk this path alone. You never have. The darkness in you is nothing to fear. Darkness can be soothing, calming. Darkness does not have to be evil."

I felt my breath steady, my heart beginning to slow from the frantic rhythm it had held moments ago. A sense of peace settled in, though I still didn't fully understand who—or what—was speaking to me. But somehow, it didn't matter. The reassurance, the promise, was enough.

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the weight of the words sink in. The path ahead was still uncertain, filled with danger and doubt, but for the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn't afraid of what might come. I had something—someone—guiding me. And that made all the difference.

Mathew shifted beside me again, and I glanced over at him, the warmth of his presence grounding me once more. The fire crackled beside us, the embers casting dancing shadows against the night. Solene was still asleep, undisturbed, and in that moment, everything felt a little less heavy.

"You will be," I whispered, echoing the words in my mind, as if reaffirming them to myself. "I will be."

And with that, I finally let the weight of my thoughts slip away, allowing myself to drift into a more peaceful sleep.