The village of Ironspring was quiet now, save for the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth of the elder's home. Cedric, Lira, and Maeve sat together, exhaustion settling over them like a heavy blanket. The children had been returned safely to their families, and though the villagers offered their thanks, Cedric knew there was more to come. The figure they had faced—the one who knew about Cedric's magic—had only been the beginning.
Lira sat across from him, sharpening her sword with methodical strokes, her expression unreadable as always. Maeve lounged nearby, leaning back in her chair with a satisfied grin on her face.
"So," Maeve said, breaking the silence, "we just saved a village, took down a dark sorcerer, and barely got out alive. I'd say that's cause for celebration, wouldn't you?"
Cedric smiled faintly, though his mind was elsewhere. "We were lucky."
Lira's eyes flicked up from her blade. "Luck had nothing to do with it. You acted when it mattered."
Maeve threw her arms out wide. "That's the spirit! Look, Cedric, I know you're still figuring out this whole 'unlimited power' thing, but from where I'm sitting, you've got it under control."
Cedric wasn't so sure. The figure's words echoed in his mind. I know of you. Your magic is unique. Powerful, but untested.
"We stopped him, but we don't know what he was after," Cedric said quietly. "What if there are more like him?"
Lira stood, sliding her sword back into its sheath. "There are always more."
Maeve yawned dramatically, stretching her arms over her head. "Well, lucky for you, I'm in this for the long haul. Whatever's out there, we'll deal with it together. Plus, I have a few new concoctions I've been meaning to test out."
Cedric couldn't help but chuckle. Maeve's energy was infectious, even after a near-death encounter. But Lira's eyes remained sharp, her gaze distant, as if she were already preparing for the next battle.
Cedric leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Lira, you've seen a lot of battles, haven't you?"
She met his eyes, her expression carefully guarded. "Enough."
He hesitated, then pressed on. "You said something earlier, about control. About taking risks."
Lira's jaw tightened, and for a moment, Cedric thought she might shut him out completely. But then, she sighed, her shoulders relaxing just slightly. "I led a unit once. Good people. Strong fighters. We were given a mission—protect a village from a mercenary raid. Simple enough. But I… made a choice. I thought I saw an opportunity to take them out quickly. I pushed too hard."
Maeve's grin faded as she listened, her curiosity replaced by something softer. Cedric remained silent, giving Lira the space to continue.
Lira's voice was steady, but there was a weight to her words. "It was a trap. The mercenaries were ready for us. I lost half my unit before I realized my mistake. The rest… barely made it out."
Cedric's chest tightened with sympathy. "It wasn't your fault."
Lira's eyes hardened. "I was their commander. Their lives were my responsibility. And I failed them."
The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire. Maeve, usually quick to jump in with a joke or light-hearted comment, remained uncharacteristically quiet.
Cedric didn't push further. He knew Lira carried her guilt like a shield, using it to protect herself from getting too close to anyone. But he also knew that she wasn't as alone as she thought. They were a team now, whether she liked it or not.
"We've all made mistakes," Cedric said softly, his gaze meeting hers. "But we're not alone anymore. Whatever comes next, we face it together."
Lira held his gaze for a moment longer, then gave a single nod. "Together."