The sun was high, and for the first time in weeks, Seraphina was laughing.
Not the soft kind she gave the priests to be polite. Not the quiet giggle she gave during lessons when someone dropped a scroll or misquoted a name. This laugh was real—loud, pure, thrown into the sky like birdsong.
Kael had never missed a sound more in his life.
They'd gone farther this time.
Not just the hill.
Not just the orchard paths behind the temple.
They'd taken a covered cart through the city under the guise of a supply check. The cart belonged to an old vendor Kael trusted, a woman who asked no questions and told no lies. He had offered her a pouch of coins to keep her mouth shut, but she waved him off and muttered, "She's still just a child. Let her breathe."
So they breathed.
They visited the quieter side of the city—old craft stalls, herbal markets, and a hidden park behind the weavers' quarter, where water flowed through hand-dug canals and stone turtles rested in patches of clover.
Kael stood guard as Seraphina darted between flower beds, her hood occasionally falling from her head as she leaned over to talk to birds and press her nose into unfamiliar blossoms.
"Kael!" she called from a bridge over the canal. "Look! Look what this one does!"
He watched as she cupped a tiny red flower in her hand and whispered something to it. The petals unfurled slowly, like waking from a dream.
She gasped. "It listened!"
Kael raised a brow. "Try not to wake the whole field, will you?"
She beamed. "Too late."
She twirled once, nearly losing her balance.
He moved fast, grabbing her by the elbow before she fell into the water.
"I'm fine!" she said through a grin.
"You're five," he muttered, letting go once she was steady.
"Five and one month."
Kael shook his head, chuckling softly.
She was still his little star.
The sky began to tint with gold, the sun dipping low as they started the walk back toward the cart. They passed through quieter streets, choosing alleys and stone paths that curved away from the main roads. Seraphina walked close to Kael now, her energy spent, fingers brushing his cloak every few steps as if needing reassurance that he was still there.
They were only two blocks from the cart when Kael felt it.
The shift in the air.
The silence where there should have been birds.
His hand went instinctively to his belt.
"Kael?" Seraphina said, pausing.
He didn't answer. Just held out his hand behind him—stay close.
She obeyed instantly.
They turned a corner.
The alley narrowed.
The exit was a dozen paces away.
That's when he saw the first one.
A figure in a hood. Gray, tattered. Leaning against the wall casually.
Kael slowed.
Another step.
Another figure, on the opposite side.
He pivoted, only to see a third blocking the way they came.
No words.
No movement.
Just shadows with eyes.
"Seraphina," he said quietly. "When I tell you—run."
"I'm not leaving—"
"Run."
Her hand tightened around his cloak.
The figures began to move.
Kael drew his sword.
Steel rang against silence.
The first attacker lunged from the right—dagger flashing. Kael met it with a clash, twisting the blade away and driving his elbow into the figure's throat. They dropped without a sound.
The second moved faster.
Kael turned in time to parry, but not quick enough to avoid the second blade cutting across his side.
He hissed. The wound was shallow, but bled hot.
"Go!" he shouted.
Seraphina bolted—
—but two more stepped from the shadows ahead.
She froze.
They didn't reach for weapons.
They only stood, blocking the exit.
Kael moved to shield her, panting now.
Five of them. Maybe six. He'd never seen them before. No insignias. No cries. No demands.
Just eyes.
Watching her.
Not him.
Just her.
Seraphina gripped his cloak tighter, her voice trembling now.
"Kael…"
"I know."
He stood tall, sword dripping blood, breath ragged, eyes locked on the silent circle forming around them.
"You won't touch her," he growled.
The alley grew darker.
The figures stepped forward.
And Kael knew—
This would not be a clean fight.
This was an ambush.
A warning.
Or worse—
A beginning.