The sun hung low on the horizon, casting long shadows over the dense forest Cedric now found himself traversing. After his awakening, he had pushed forward, eager to understand the full scope of his power. He had wandered for days, creating small constructs and defenses along the way, but he still felt lost. Despite his growing abilities, the vast world felt overwhelming—and for the first time, he longed for the presence of others.
That was when he heard the clash of steel and the sharp cry of battle echoing through the trees.
Cedric broke into a run, weaving between the ancient trunks as the sounds of fighting grew louder. When he finally emerged from the trees, he found a scene of chaos. Two figures stood against a group of mercenaries. One—a tall woman with a sword that glinted in the fading light, her stance calm but fierce. The other—a smaller figure who darted between the attackers, tossing strange vials that exploded into clouds of smoke and sparks.
The woman fought with precision, every strike landing with lethal efficiency, but the mercenaries were many. The smaller figure let out a frustrated shout as she threw another vial, only for it to fizzle uselessly.
Cedric didn't think. He raised his hands, calling on the magic that now flowed freely through him. The earth responded, stone rising from the ground to form a wall between the mercenaries and the two fighters. The attackers recoiled in surprise, giving Cedric's magic the time it needed to encase them fully. The mercenaries pounded on the walls, but they wouldn't break.
The tall woman turned, her eyes narrowing as they locked onto Cedric. For a long moment, there was only silence between them, the air heavy with tension.
"You saved us," she said, her voice low and even, but there was no gratitude in her tone—only wariness.
The smaller figure, now covered in soot from her failed concoction, gave Cedric a wide grin. "And with flair! I like it."
Cedric stepped forward cautiously, unsure of how to explain himself. "I heard the fighting… I thought you might need help."
The warrior regarded him for a moment longer before sheathing her sword. "Help we didn't ask for." She extended her hand, though, a sign of reluctant respect. "Lira."
Cedric shook her hand. "Cedric."
"And I'm Maeve," the smaller one piped in, her eyes bright despite the chaos of the moment. She waved her hand dramatically toward the still-trapped mercenaries. "Nice touch with the stone. Good to know we're not the only ones with a few tricks up our sleeves."
Cedric nodded, his gaze shifting between them. "You were outnumbered."
Lira's jaw tightened, though she didn't deny it. "We had it under control."
Maeve rolled her eyes. "Sure we did."
Cedric glanced at the stone barrier, feeling the weight of his own power settle over him. "Who were they?"
Lira's expression darkened. "Mercenaries. Hired hands looking to claim a bounty."
"Bounty?" Cedric asked.
Maeve crossed her arms, grinning despite the tension. "Oh, don't worry, not for us. At least, not yet." She winked. "We just had the bad luck of running into them."
Lira's eyes never left Cedric. "We're heading south, toward the border. It's dangerous, but it seems you're no stranger to danger either."
Cedric hesitated. He had been traveling alone for days, but the world felt larger and more dangerous now. These two—warrior and alchemist—seemed capable, though they couldn't be more different in personality. But perhaps that's what he needed.
"Mind if I join you?" Cedric asked, the question feeling strange on his lips. He had never imagined asking others for companionship.
Lira studied him for a long moment, her gaze sharp and unreadable. But then she gave a curt nod. "If you can keep up."
Maeve, for her part, clapped him on the back, already moving forward. "Welcome aboard, creator boy! I think we're going to get along just fine."
----
A Few Hours Later...
They had been walking for hours, the forest thinning as they neared the borderlands. Maeve, ever the talker, filled the silence with stories of her past experiments, her excitement palpable as she described each concoction she had made.
"…And that's how I accidentally turned my apprentice's hair green for a week," Maeve finished with a laugh.
Cedric smiled despite himself. "Remind me to stay clear of your alchemy."
"Noted," Maeve grinned. "But I promise, most of the time it works. And when it doesn't, well, it makes for a good story, doesn't it?"
Lira, who had been silent for most of the journey, spoke up, her tone as even as ever. "Not every mistake makes for a good story."
Maeve shot her a look, but there was no heat in it. "Maybe not, but at least I'm willing to take risks."
"There's no room for risk in battle," Lira replied, her voice low.
Maeve snorted. "There's no room for anything in battle, according to you."
Cedric sensed the tension between them, but he also noticed something else—something unspoken. He glanced at Lira, her eyes hard but distant, as if she were somewhere else entirely.
"I've seen you fight," Cedric said quietly. "You don't take risks, but you're always in control."
Lira's gaze flicked to him, and for a moment, her expression softened, just enough for Cedric to see the hint of vulnerability beneath. "Control is all I have."
Maeve's playful tone faded, replaced by something more genuine. "Lira's the best warrior you'll ever meet, Cedric. But she doesn't like talking about it."
Lira shot her a sharp look, but Maeve only shrugged, unbothered. "What? It's true."
Cedric didn't press further, sensing that whatever burden Lira carried, it wasn't something she was ready to share. Not yet, at least.