The night was cold, and I had nowhere to go.
I walked beside Kael, my bag slung over my shoulder, boots kicking up dust on the worn dirt road leading out of Blackwood. I hadn't thought about where I'd end up, I didn't even want to think about it. I had just lost my job, my home, and the only life I'd ever known. I should've been angry. I should've been cursing my own stupidity for jumping into that fight.
But instead, I found myself glancing at the guy beside me.
Who was he?
"You never told me your name," I said after a while.
Kael hesitated, then sighed. "Kael."
I frowned. "Just Kael?"
"That's all you need to know."
I narrowed my eyes. The way he said it, it was too careful. Too practiced. Like someone who had spent years hiding behind a name that wasn't really his.
But I didn't press him. Not yet.
We walked in silence for a while, the only sounds coming from the distant rustling of trees and the occasional chirp of a night bird. My stomach growled, and I sighed. "So, do you actually have a plan, or are we just walking until we drop dead?"
Kael smirked. "There's a town a few miles from here. We can stop there."
"You mean I can stop there," I pointed out. "You? You look like you just pissed off the wrong people."
His smirk faded. "That obvious?"
"Yeah."
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't expect to stay in Blackwood long. I was just passing through."
"Running from someone?"
Kael didn't answer.
That told me everything I needed to know.
We reached the outskirts of the next town, Harrow's Rest, just before dawn. It was a small place, probably even smaller than Blackwood. A few scattered houses, a single tavern, and an old watchtower that looked like it hadn't been used in years.
I glanced at Kael. "You sure about this place?"
He nodded. "I know someone here."
"Someone who won't kill you on sight?"
"Hopefully."
Not the most reassuring answer.
We stepped into the tavern, The Broken Stag, and immediately, I felt every eye turn toward us. It was the kind of place where strangers weren't welcome. A couple of rough-looking guys in the corner stopped talking and watched us closely. The bartender, an old man with a scar across his cheek, narrowed his eyes at Kael.
"You got a lot of nerve showing your face here," he muttered.
Kael gave a sheepish smile. "Come on, old man. You're not still mad, are you?"
The bartender scowled. "You stole from me, you little rat."
"I borrowed from you," Kael corrected. "And I meant to pay you back."
The bartender grabbed a knife from under the counter.
I immediately took a step back. "Whoa, whoa, let's all calm down—"
Kael raised his hands. "Alright, alright. I get it. You're still mad. Fair."
The bartender pointed the knife at him. "You've got one minute to explain why I shouldn't throw you out."
Kael's easygoing expression faded. He lowered his voice. "Because they're looking for me."
The bartender's eyes flickered with something close to fear. He lowered the knife. "How close?"
Kael exhaled. "Close enough."
I looked between them. "Am I the only one who doesn't know who 'they' are?"
Kael didn't answer, and that was starting to piss me off.
Before I could push him for the truth, the door slammed open.
A man in dark armor stepped in.
And just like that, everything went to hell.
The man wasn't alone. Three others followed him, all wearing the same armor, blackened steel with a golden crest on their shoulders. Soldiers. And not just any soldiers. These guys weren't from a local town or some hired thugs.
They were from the Empire.
The leader, a tall man with a scar across his jaw, scanned the room. His gaze landed on Kael.
"There you are."
Kael muttered a curse.
I had about two seconds to decide what to do.
Stay put and pretend I didn't know Kael. Run. Help him.
I should have picked option one.
Instead, I grabbed the nearest mug and hurled it at the soldier's face.
The tavern exploded into chaos.
I'm not a fighter.
I don't know how to use a sword. I've never been trained to throw a punch properly. But what I do know is that when a guy in heavy armor is swinging at you, you move.
I ducked under a wild swing and rolled behind a table. Kael was already moving, flipping a chair into one of the soldiers and kicking another in the chest.
The bartender cursed and grabbed a crossbow from under the counter.
"Not in my damn bar!" he roared, firing a shot that barely missed one of the soldiers.
I scrambled for anything I could use as a weapon. My hands landed on a broken chair leg. Not great, but better than nothing.
One of the soldiers swung his sword at me. I dodged, barely, and smacked him in the side with my makeshift club. It didn't do much, but it pissed him off.
Kael was actually holding his own.
I watched as he twisted around a soldier's attack, grabbed the man's wrist, and slammed him into a table. His movements were too good, fluid, practiced.
This guy wasn't just some runaway.
He was trained.
But that didn't mean we were winning.
The leader of the soldiers raised his sword. "Enough games."
I barely had time to react before Kael grabbed my arm.
"Time to go."
We bolted for the back door.
We crashed into the alleyway behind the tavern, feet pounding against the cobblestone streets. The soldiers weren't far behind.
Kael led the way, turning sharp corners, slipping through narrow streets, like he had done this before.
I gasped for breath. "You wanna explain who the hell those guys are?"
Kael didn't answer.
I grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop. "I just threw my life away helping you! You owe me an explanation."
He exhaled sharply.
"…They're royal soldiers."
My stomach sank. "You're not just some noble brat, are you?"
Kael hesitated. Then—
"I'm the crown prince."
My brain short-circuited.
I stared at him, trying to process what he just said.
A prince. The prince of the empire.
And now, I was a wanted man.
"…I really should have stayed at the inn," I muttered.
Kael gave a tired grin. "Too late now."
And just like that, my ordinary life was officially over.