Night settled over the grasslands, a vast sea of shadows stretching beneath a sky pierced by countless stars. Rodrigo and Avange took shelter beneath a towering, solitary tree, its gnarled branches arching overhead like a protective canopy.
The air carried a faint chill, and the stillness of the open plain felt both peaceful and exposed. Rodrigo knelt beside a small pile of twigs and dry grass, striking the flint he'd seen in the ground at Havenport. Sparks flared, igniting the kindling, and soon a modest campfire sputtered to life, casting a warm glow over their makeshift camp.
He sat back, stretching his legs toward the fire, and glanced at Avange. The man perched on the ground, elbows resting on his knees, his eyes fixed on the dancing flames. His face was haggard, bruised skin stretched thin over sharp cheekbones, and his hands quivered slightly as they hung idle.
Yet his posture remained rigid, shoulders squared, as if defiance alone kept him upright. Rodrigo's chest tightened at the sight. Avange had been a rock during the war, a soldier who laughed in the face of danger, but now he looked like a man just on the brink.
"I still can't believe you're here," Rodrigo said, his gruff voice cutting through the quiet. "Thought I'd lost you for good."
Avange's lips quirked into a faint smile, a shadow of his old self. "It takes more than a blade to finish me, sir." A dry cough rattled his chest, and he pressed a hand to his ribs, wincing.
Rodrigo shifted closer to the fire. "You don't have to call me that anymore, Avange. War's done. At least that one is."
Avange nodded, his gaze drifting back to the flames. "It feels like it never ends, though."
The words lingered, heavy with something unsaid. Rodrigo rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the heat of his machete pulse faintly at his side. "Been a hell of a time since I woke up here. You wouldn't believe half of it."
Avange's eyes flicked to him, a glimmer of curiosity breaking through his haze. "Try me."
Rodrigo chuckled, the sound rough but warm. "Alright. There's this woman, Mara. Runs a bakery back in Havenport, south of here. Gave me some bread, directed me to a girl named Hilda who had a forge there. She had a machete, but I had no money, so she ordered me to get some saltvine. I got some, and then she gave this thing to me. She's tough, doesn't take nonsense. You'd get along."
Avange's smile widened slightly. "Sounds familiar."
"Then there's the Guildhall," Rodrigo went on, words spilling out as he relaxed into the tale. "They've got this trial for new Infusers. Sent us into the Emberwood after Ember Wolves. Big, ugly things, fur glowing like embers. Nearly got me, but I had a squad—Lira, quick with a whip, and Tobi, jittery but good with fire. We scraped through."
Avange let out a soft, rasping laugh. "You always did attract trouble."
Rodrigo grinned, though it faded as he thought of Blissford. "Then this recruiter shows up, all charm and big promises. Says Blissford can unlock my Essence and whatever." He tapped the machete. "He gave me a token, told me to think it over. So I left. Wanted to see what they're about."
Avange's gaze sharpened, lingering on the weapon. "You trust them?"
"No," Rodrigo admitted, shaking his head. "But I need answers. Recruiter told me that my Strength Essence's strong, burns hot. It's a bit hard to control. Blissford might know how to handle it."
Avange nodded, his expression guarded. "Just watch yourself. Places like that don't give without taking."
Rodrigo studied him, catching the weight in his tone. "You know something about Blissford, don't you?"
Avange's jaw clenched, and he turned his head, staring into the darkness beyond the fire. "Doesn't matter."
"It does to me," Rodrigo pressed, leaning forward. "What happened to you, Avange? After the battle, after…"
Avange's hands balled into fists, knuckles whitening. "Don't remember much. Just kept going." His voice was clipped, a wall slamming down.
Rodrigo's throat tightened. There was more, a story buried beneath the surface, but he wouldn't pry. He reached into his pack, pulling out a water flask that the Guildhall had given him, and held it out. "Drink. You look like you need it."
Avange accepted it with trembling fingers, taking a slow sip. Rodrigo watched, his gaze lingering on the bruises circling Avange's wrists, the way his hands shook despite his efforts to steady them. The man was a wreck, yet he sat tall, forcing a faint smile.
Rodrigo's heart ached. He'd shield that stubborn spirit, shape it to the soldier he knew before, no matter the cost.
A sharp crack echoed from the shadows beyond the firelight. Rodrigo's head snapped up, hand closing around the machete's hilt. The heat in his chest surged, eager and fierce. Avange stiffened, his breath hitching.
Two figures shuffled into view, small but menacing. Golems, forged from warped clay and jagged metal scraps, their joints grinding with each step. Faint runes pulsed red on their chests, casting an eerie glow.
They weren't imposing. They were barely waist-high, but their sudden aggression and unnatural presence jolted Rodrigo's nerves.
"Stay back," he growled, scrambling to his feet, machete drawn.
Avange lurched upright, legs unsteady, but his fists rose instinctively. "I can help," he rasped, stepping toward the threat.
"No," Rodrigo barked, pushing him back with a firm hand. "You're in no shape. Stay put."
The golems charged, their movements erratic but swift. Rodrigo swung the machete, heat flooding his arm. Flames erupted along the blade as it arced through the air, slamming into the first golem's shoulder.
BANG!
The impact jarred his wrist, the clay tougher than expected. The creature stumbled, its rune flaring, but didn't collapse.
Avange lunged forward, throwing a shaky punch at the second golem. His fist grazed its chest, a feeble blow that barely slowed it. The golem retaliated, swinging a metal arm into Avange's side. He grunted, crumpling, and Rodrigo's vision flared with rage.
"Get down, damn it!" he roared, shoving Avange aside. He whirled, machete blazing, and hacked downward.
SHING!
The blade struck the golem's neck, fire bursting from the cut. Clay shattered, metal groaned, and the creature collapsed, its rune winking out.
The first golem rushed him again with relentless force. Rodrigo pivoted, swinging low. The machete sliced through its leg, toppling it. He finished it with a heavy strike to its chest, the blade sinking deep. The rune cracked apart, and the golem stilled, smoke rising from its ruins.
Panting, Rodrigo lowered the machete, its flames fading.
He turned to Avange, who knelt on the ground, clutching his side, his face pale and drawn. "You alright?" Rodrigo asked, dropping beside him.
Avange nodded weakly, but his eyes were hollow. "Why'd you protect me?" he muttered, voice barely a whisper. "I'm… I'm not worth it."
Rodrigo's grip tightened on the machete, heat pulsing in his chest. "You're the only person I truly know in this world, Avange. I won't lose you again." The words spilled out, fierce and unfiltered, carrying the weight of their shared past. He chuckled lightly as deep sighs cut his laugh.
Avange looked up, meeting his gaze. For a moment, the fog in his eyes lifted, revealing a flicker of gratitude, of connection. He nodded, slow and deliberate, then sank back against the tree, spent.
Rodrigo sheathed the machete, its warmth ebbing as his pulse slowed. He settled beside Avange, the fire crackling faintly between them. Shadows played across their faces, tired and weathered, but bound together.
The night stretched on. No more words passed between them. None were needed. Their bond, forged in the crucible of war and strengthened here, held firm. Whatever lay ahead. Blissford's promises or the dangers of this strange world?
Rodrigo wouldn't face it alone.