The bodies were off the road now.
Helios had dragged the axeman to the side like he weighed nothing, and Aelira had rolled the dagger-woman into a ditch, muttering something about "no respect for travel etiquette." The wind had picked up. Cold, dry. It carried the smell of blood and dust.
I sat on a flat stone, breathing through my teeth. My thigh throbbed — the cut was shallow, but every step made it feel worse. Still, it wasn't the worst of it.
Aelira crouched in front of me, cleaning the cut on my face.
"You're lucky," she said. Her voice had dropped, softer now. Less teasing. "Another inch higher and you'd be squinting forever."
I flinched as she dabbed something that stung like hell. "You sure this stuff isn't poison?"
"Don't tempt me," she murmured, but her eyes were focused. Serious. "Hold still."
I tried. My hands clenched the edge of the rock as she stitched the gash — not long, maybe two fingers wide, just under my left eye. It felt like my whole skull was being tugged open.
"Almost done," she said, then paused. "It's going to scar."
I blinked. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. Right under the eye. Just enough to make you look like you've been through something."
"Great. Now I'll match my gauntlets."
She smiled at that. Not her usual sly grin — something smaller. Quieter. Like she was letting me see a part of her that didn't come out in combat or sarcasm.
"There," she said finally, tying off the thread. "You'll live."
I touched the skin, feeling the ridge of the stitch. It was tender, warm, and oddly comforting — like a mark that said you were here, you fought, and you didn't fall.
Aelira sat beside me, elbows on her knees, looking out at the horizon.
The silence stretched, not awkward. Just… there. Shared.
"You fought well," she said, not looking at me. "Against that brute. That was real. No panic. No freezing."
"I hesitated," I admitted.
"Yeah. For a second. And then you moved. That's what counts."
I nodded slowly. "Thanks. For the help. With him. And her."
She glanced sideways at me. "We're a team, remember? No lone wolves allowed."
I smiled faintly. "Tell Helios that."
A snort behind us. "Heard that," Helios muttered, sitting with his back against a tree, one hand pressed to his side. He looked tired but stable.
"You were supposed to," Aelira called without turning. "Builds character."
Helios grunted. "What builds character is getting stabbed and still walking."
"Congratulations," I said. "You're the most character-filled man on the continent."
Aelira chuckled. "He really is." Then, quieter, to me: "You're not bad yourself."
I looked down at my hands. The gauntlets were scraped and dusted, blood dried in the grooves. They felt… right.
She followed my gaze.
"Thought of a name yet?"
I shook my head. "Not yet. But I think they're listening."
She nodded. "Then they'll tell you when it's time."
I touched the fresh stitches again, just under my eye. They burned, but it wasn't pain anymore.
It was a reminder.
A story beginning.
And when it ended — if it ever did — the scar would still be there.
Aelira bumped her shoulder into mine, gently.
"Don't worry," she said. "It suits you."
I huffed. "That's a polite way of saying it makes me look like a troublemaker."
"Oh no," she said, mock-serious. "You already looked like a troublemaker. Now you just look cooler while causing it."
I laughed under my breath. "I'll take it."
She leaned back on her palms, face to the sky. "You ever had a scar before?"
"Not like this," I said. "A few cuts. Bruises. But nothing that stuck."
She nodded slowly. "They change things. Even little ones. You wake up and see them in the mirror, and it's like… proof. That you fought. That you didn't stay small."
I glanced at her. "You have any?"
She rolled her sleeve partway up. A thin, pale line cut across her forearm. Faint but unmistakable.
"Arrow," she said. "Three years ago. Didn't even hurt that bad. But it stayed."
"Do you hate it?"
"No," she said, almost surprised by her own answer. "Not anymore."
We sat like that for a bit. Quiet again. The kind that doesn't need filling.
"…Thanks, Aelira," I said.
"For what?"
"For making it not feel like the end of the world."
She tilted her head. "It's just a scar."
"Yeah. But… I think I needed someone to treat it like it mattered, even if it didn't."
That soft smile came back. The one she didn't use on everyone.
"Well," she said. "You matter. So now it does."
And that shut me up.
For a while, anyway.