I stayed with Nox until she'd finally settled into sleep. Her breathing evened out, soft and steady. I watched her a moment longer, then gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. On impulse, I bent down and kissed her forehead.
When I stepped outside and shut the door, Priya was already waiting for me.
"We have a problem," she said briskly. She turned and led me outside, where a small group of villagers had gathered. The air was tense, like a storm was coming.
They all turned to look at me as I joined them, settling at Priya's side.
"The girl Alis brought back—she's Nox Quell," Priya said evenly, but the name dropped like a stone.
There was a collective gasp. A murmur of disbelief and dread swept around the circle.
Before anyone could speak further, Corrin came sprinting up, clutching a paper in one hand. "Ransom offer!" he panted. "Ransom offer for Nox Quell!"
"Ransom?" My brow furrowed. "We're not holding her hostage."
Priya rubbed her face, frustration tightening her features. Around her, the villagers looked equally weary and stunned.
"Rebel used to talk about this," she muttered. "The Quells were powerful—are powerful. Or... were. Hexa Quell's only remaining blood relative is that child."
"She's her heir," someone muttered.
"None of us stabbed her," another added. "This reeks of an inside job."
"Like the others," came another voice. The murmurs grew louder, edgier.
"What others?" I asked sharply.
"The Quells have been dying off for years. Quietly. Strange accidents. Mysterious raids. Hexa's sister was killed in a battle no one expected her to lose—until Hexa came and claimed the land. People whispered she planned it."
"Hexa would kill her own kin?" I felt my stomach turn.
"It was a rumour," Lyric snapped, though her voice wasn't sure.
"So someone wanted Nox to die in our care—to make it look like we'd done it?" I said slowly, feeling the full weight of it settle. "We were being set up."
"And now that you saved her..." Priya handed me the paper. "They want her back."
I scanned the note. A promise of land. Resources. Safety. Too much. Too clean.
"They'll kill her," I whispered. "Take her back and finish the job."
"Is that really our problem?" someone said darkly. "They attacked us."
I crossed my arms. "And you think sacrificing a child makes us any better?"
Priya's gaze flicked to me, and I could see her weighing the risks. "She's the last of her line. That means power—maybe even legacy. Rebel always warned that the Quell name wasn't just a title. It's a throne."
"But she's just a kid."
"She's a Codewright," I said, before I could stop myself.
The words hit like a firecracker.
Silence. Then whispers.
"Another Codewright..."
"If she takes Hexa's place," Lyric said darkly, "she could become more dangerous."
She was staring at Nox's door, but her hand had drifted to the scars trailing across her face. The ones that took her eye.
"I was the best," she said suddenly, voice raw. "Near Elite-level. I could shoot a moving target blindfolded, or so I thought. Then they took my eye. And now... I'm nothing."
I swallowed hard, watching as a single tear traced the path of her ruined cheek.
Corrin stepped forward and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. "You were brilliant," he said.
Lyric nodded once, sharply. "But brilliance doesn't last here. We're what they left behind. Broken pieces."
Her gaze found mine again. "I'd bet my good eye they'll come for you next. You'll get an invitation to the new Cradle with the Elites." She said the last part whistfully.
At that, the crowd stiffened. A few flinched, visibly.
"Enough," Priya said, raising her hand. "We have to think about the village. The offer on the table would sustain us. Rebel isn't here anymore. We need a plan."
I turned to her. "He gave his life protecting us. Giving Nox away like a bargaining chip—it betrays everything he stood for."
Priya looked away.
"Rebel would have protected her," Lyric murmured. Her fingers brushed her scar again. "Like he protected all of us."
I exhaled slowly, the weight of the moment pressing down hard. "Let her choose. She has the right to take her place if she wants. But she also has the right to walk away."
"She puts a target on us," a man growled. "So do you."
"Exactly," I said. "And I'm not giving myself up. Neither should she."
For a moment, no one spoke. Then Priya nodded, quietly.
"You're right," she said. "Even if we need what they're offering, it's wrong to use the child like this."
She turned to the circle. "We need to choose our new leader."
Heads nodded. The crowd was sombre, but resolute.
"Consoul," Priya called, "all in favour of naming Alis De Aura as our new leader?"
Hands went up. One by one. Then nearly all.
I stood there, stunned.
"But Priya—Rebel was your husband. You knew him best."
"I'm tired," she said simply. "Tired of fighting. Of surviving. I need time to mourn. Rebel chose you. He saw something in you."
The hands stayed raised.
My heart thudded. Alis De Aura, leader.
Not just a searcher. A voice. A guide.
I wasn't ready.
But I stepped forward anyway.