The air felt wrong. Not in the way that makes you reach for your dagger, but in the way that settles behind your ribs like a slow ache. Heavy. Still. Too still.
Tory walked ahead of me, his boots crunching against the forest floor. I didn't say a word. I hadn't since we left that cursed mansion behind. My thoughts were too loud, too tangled to untangle with words.
"No such fire exists."
The wizard's voice echoed in my skull, over and over, like a drum I couldn't silence. My mother's scream. My brother's hand reaching for me. The flames consuming it all. And yet, they told me it never happened.
Liars. All of them.
"Hey," Tory said, pointing ahead. "There's a town just past the ridge. Looks quiet. We could rest, get supplies."
I didn't answer. Just nodded.
The town was plain, forgettable. Dusty streets. Weather-worn signs. A market square with half-hearted shouting. Tory split off toward the stalls, probably thinking I needed time alone. He wasn't wrong.
I walked into the tavern. Not to drink—there wasn't enough ale in the world to drown my thoughts—but to sit, to listen, to think. The voices around me blurred together: some hunter bragging about a wolf he killed, a merchant complaining about taxes, a bard tuning her lute with more pride than talent.
I didn't care.
"No such fire exists."
I closed my eyes. The memories hit me again. My father dragging me toward the door, the smoke, the heat, the way the flames moved like they were alive. Lies. They're all lies. I pressed my nails into my palms, willing the thoughts away.
That's when I saw it.
Tacked to the tavern's wall, not even hidden. A wanted poster—edges crisp, ink still bold."Dead or Alive – 100 Gold Coins."
No reason given. No accusation. No crime. Just a reward, and one condition written beneath in small, precise letters:
"Bring everything they carried."
The face?
Mine.
I didn't breathe. Just stared at it for a heartbeat too long. Then I tore it down, folded it, and slipped it into my cloak. I didn't run, but I moved fast enough to draw glances. I didn't care.
I found Tory in the market, comparing bundles of dried herbs like they were rare jewels. I grabbed his arm and shoved the poster into his hands.
His eyes scanned it. His jaw clenched.
"We need to go. Now."
I didn't argue. We left the town without another word.
We walked until the sun began to dip. The trees thickened again, and we found a clearing good enough for camp. I lit a small fire, careful not to let it grow too big. Tory helped, but I barely noticed him. My thoughts kept circling that poster.
How long had it been there?
Was it because of the mansion? Or had they known who I was long before?
Tory cursed under his breath.
"Damn it. I forgot the whiteleaf root."
"What?"
"For the salve. I was going to make a potion in case one of us gets hurt. I didn't grab it—because of the poster."
He looked at me. Not for permission. For agreement.
I nodded.
"Go. Be quick."
He nodded back and took off through the trees, back toward the town. I stayed, finishing the camp. Then I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
I told myself I was annoyed. That he was being slow. That I'd scold him when he got back.
But truthfully?
I was worried.
I had just started trusting him. A little.
But then I heard footsteps. Tory returned, panting, cloak dusted in ash.
"The tavern," he said between breaths. "It's gone. Burned to the ground."
I stood. "What?"
He nodded grimly. Then pulled a folded scrap of charred wood from his satchel. On it was a symbol burned into the grain. A clean, simple circle with three spokes—one of the sigils I'd never seen before.
"That's the Order," he said. "A basic mark, but unmistakable. They're sending a message."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
"Did they follow you?"
"No. I was careful. Took side paths. Doubled back. No one saw me."
"Good."
He sat near the fire, quiet for a moment. Then he added:
"They won't come at night. The Order doesn't like the dark—too many spells go wrong after sunset."
That gave me pause.
Darkness. Magic. A thought sparked in the back of my mind. Small. Dangerous.
But maybe... maybe it could work.
Day 13.