Arasha sat in her dimly lit war room, the glow of sigil-bound communicators casting eerie shadows across the large wooden table covered with maps, reports, and hastily written missives. She had spent months crafting a sanctuary for the awakened, ensuring that they would not be exploited by the nobles, the church, or even their own fear.
And now, it was time to take that vision beyond the kingdom's borders.
With a deep breath, she activated the communicators—each bound to a trusted contact across the continent.
A guild master from the western free cities, who had seen how mercenaries were trying to recruit the awakened as disposable war assets.
A commander from the Empire's border legion, a hardened woman who had no patience for politics but had seen firsthand how the nobility was using awakened warriors as bargaining chips.
A scholar from the Arcane Consortium, who had been studying the changes in mana flow after the rifts appeared and had begun noticing unnatural spikes near previously sealed ones.
One by one, they answered her call.
Arasha spoke with unyielding authority—sharing her methods, her successes, and her vision. She detailed how she had secured land, built housing, provided education, and formed a structured order to ensure the awakened could live with dignity.
She didn't just propose a movement.
She ignited one.
Throughout the continent, whispers of Arasha of the Scion Order grew. The protector of the awakened, the unyielding commander, the one who had stood against kings and nobles alike to safeguard those who would have otherwise been used as tools of war.
Her influence had stretched far beyond her own kingdom. Letters flooded in, alliances were forged, and even in lands where the nobility held the firmest grip, the awakened began to resist.
But even as she solidified her growing network, a chilling realization dawned upon her.
The rifts…
They weren't gone.
Half a year of grueling battles, of sacrifice and sleepless nights, and now her most trusted informants were reporting the unthinkable.
Signs of new rifts forming.
Even worse—some of the sealed rifts were showing signs of reopening.
Arasha clenched her fists, her exhaustion forgotten.
This wasn't over.
No… it was only beginning.
****
The wind howled at this height, tugging at Arasha's crimson cloak as she leaned against the ramparts of their fortress. Below, the world sleeps in uneasy peace. Above, the stars flickered through thin clouds—quiet witnesses to a woman forever on edge.
The rifts once again posing a threat to their hard earned moment of peace and security.
She heard footsteps behind her. Soft. Intentional.
"Couldn't sleep, Commander?" Kael asked, stepping beside her.
Arasha gave no answer at first, just a glance. Then she spoke, words tight like a drawn bowstring.
"You're a mystery, Kael Valehart."
He chuckled, low and tired. "I've been called worse."
She narrowed her eyes. "You speak like a scholar, move like a warrior, and plan like a seer. You know things you shouldn't—but you lie without lying. Half-truths wrapped in charm. It's almost impressive."
Kael didn't respond right away. He simply leaned forward on the stone railing, exhaling slowly.
"I lied to survive," he states finally. "When I arrived here… I didn't know who would believe me. I didn't even know if I could believe myself."
Seraphine's jaw clenched.
"Sir Garran wanted me to keep my distance," she commented. "Said you had 'clever fox's eyes.'"
Kael smirked faintly. "He's not wrong."
"But I watched you. On the field. With the Awakened. With the recruits. You didn't seek power. You didn't chase glory. And you didn't flinch when the corrupted priest turned on us in the hollow crypts. You shielded me. You could have run."
Kael's face darkened slightly. "I wouldn't let you die. Not like that. Not when you matter this much."
"Flaterry?" Arasha inquired with genuine curiosity.
Does he really think that way? Does he think I matter much?
"No, it's the truth Commander. Who else could've done what you have done?" Kael swiftly answered.
"Sir Garran," Arasha with an amused smile countered.
"I don't so. With all due respect, Sir Garran is a top notch second-in-command, Commander. But he lacks the foresight and the tenacity to put such plans into action."
"Hmm. But then there's also you." Arasha added.
Kael momentarily at loss, could only give Arasha a perplexed smile.
"What gave you that idea, Commander?" Kael finally questioned looking at Arasha.
Arasha turned to face him met his gaze then— really looked at him, eyes searching for the lies that once danced behind his smile.
But they were gone now. He's exhausted, vulnerable in a way that no one else sees.
"I still don't know what you are," she stated at last. "But I trust you."
A beat.
"Why?" he asked quietly, like a question he doesn't want answered.
Arasha exhaled slowly. "Because I saw with my own eyes how hard you train. I have seen the way you comforted the orphans who lost their parents because of the rift. I have seen you cry as a fellow knight in the order dies. Seen you desperately try to save a comrade. And personally been save by you. I trust my own experience, Kael."
She stepped back from the ledge, pacing slowly, arms crossed against the cold.
"You earned my trust the hard way," she declared, looking out over the fortress again. "And that''s why I'm sure you could've done what I have done. And let me add, you too matter."
Arasha noticed how Kael momentarily stiffen and his smile falter and his eyes moistened a bit. But, she didn't comment on it at all. She just look out the horizon once again.
Kael stepped beside her again. "I'm glad to know I earned your trust, Commander. I'm truly sincerely grateful that you gave me the chance to join the Scion Order, Commander Arasha."
Arasha smiled at Kael's declaration.
"I'm glad I did as well."
She studied him for a long moment. Then, slowly, she extended a hand—not in formality, but in shared purpose.
"So, Kael Valehart stand with me," she declared. "Not just in battle, but in burden."
Kael clasped her arm, forearms locked. "I will. Always."
"Now," Arasha affirmed, voice quiet, "I think I should stop calling you a mystery… and start calling you my ally."
He bowed his head with a smile. "Then I'll wear that title with pride, Commander."
She gives him one last glance—soft and unreadable. Then turned and walked toward the stairs, her voice drifting back through the wind.
"Good night, Kael."
"Good night… Commander."