The screaming twisted, broke apart—became something else.
Laughter. Fee was laughing. Laughing as she walked out of the burning forest, her entire body outlined in wicked blue fire.
Her clothes were scorched, her hair singed, but she didn't look afraid. Didn't look in pain.
She strode toward us, fire licking at her boots, hands on her hips, head thrown back in amusement—
And she struck a pose.
Like this was some grand, dramatic entrance she had been planning all along.
Lance took off his helmet.
For the first time since we had begun our journey to stop the slime, I saw his face. He always looked so untouchable in the capital. The Pride of PrideFall. The Silver knight.
But now?
His golden hair—darkened, oily, tangled—hung over his face in uneven strands. His countless scars caught the eerie blue light, but his eyes—
His eyes were just pain.
Not from his broken arm. Not from his own wounds.
From her.
But Fee didn't stop laughing.
Didn't stop smiling.
Like she wasn't the one who just walked through hellfire and survived.
Like she wasn't the one who almost died.
Like this wasn't even a big deal.
"Gotcha." She winked.
No one said anything. Not because she was naked—the firelight tracing over her soot-streaked skin, her clothes nothing but burnt scraps.
But because—
"We thought you were dying."
Hogan was the first to speak, his voice cracking between exhaustion and disbelief.
Fee grinned, unfazed. "Oh, that? Yeah, well—remember how I told you I was half-elf?"
No one answered.
"The other half is dwarf."
Silence. The fire crackled.
"Skin made of iron, right? Fire doesn't exactly do much to me. But, uh, judging by your faces, I'm guessing my little stunt gave you a heart attack, huh?"
Still, no one spoke.
Lance—who had yet to move since Fee's emergence from the fire—remained frozen, helmet discarded, staring at her with a look none of us had ever seen before.
Connie and Hogan looked completely shell-shocked.
Fee let out a short, breathless laugh—and then, to everyone's surprise, Meili joined in. A weak chuckle—high, broken, trembling.
Tears slipped down her face, but she was smiling. "You're crazy, Fee."
"Crazy is a godsdamn understatement," Connie muttered, slumping onto the ground.
Hogan sat down beside her with a hollow sigh, rubbing his face like he was trying to wake himself up from a fever dream.
The only one left standing—Lance—finally let himself collapse, his back hitting the dirt.
We were alive.
We had survived.
The heat from the still-burning forest wrapped around us, warm like a bonfire. The stars blinked down, indifferent to the hell we had just clawed our way through.
"My daughter died in a fire."
Lance's voice was barely a whisper. But every single one of us heard it.
The flames crackled, filling the void where words should have been.
I had heard the story before—rumors, whispered among the knights, cautionary tales passed down through the ranks.
But hearing it from Lance himself? That was different.
Fee stiffened. Her smirk, still lingering, faded at the edges.
"Lance, I—"
"No." His voice was steady.
"It's okay." He exhaled, looking up at the night sky, eyes reflecting the dying flames. "I'm not asking for apologies. I just… needed to say it."
And that was it.
We moved away from the blue inferno, stepping over cracked earth and dried-out slime husks.
Nobody spoke for a long time.
The exhaustion settled deep into our bones, the kind that made every step feel heavier. It felt like if we stopped, we'd just collapse right there on the battlefield.
Hogan was the first to break the silence.
"Well," he said, rolling his shoulders, grimacing at the deep bruises beneath his tunic, "that was officially the worst day of my life."
"Give it time," Connie muttered. "Life has a way of making things worse."
Hogan let out a weak, tired laugh—but even he didn't have the energy for his usual over-the-top reaction.
Meili, clutching the lion pendant Lance had given her, leaned into Silver's side, her eyelids fluttering.
The wolf stood steady, sensing her exhaustion.
She hadn't spoken since we pulled Fee from the flames. I glanced at Fee, expecting her usual smirk, her usual quip.
But for once—She was quiet.
Fee walked a little apart from the group, adjusting the fresh clothes Hogan had thrown her from his pack. Her skin was still streaked with soot, her hair wild, but her face—completely unreadable.
I wasn't looking at her, though. I was watching Lance.
Since his quiet confession, the knight hadn't said a word. His arm hung limp in its makeshift splint. His breathing was slow, controlled—but I knew he was gritting his teeth through the pain.
The unshakable Lancelot Lionheart—the man I had idolized—dragging himself forward because he didn't know what else to do.
Fee must've noticed too.
"Oi, Lance."
Her voice was softer than usual. "About your daughter."
Lance's steps didn't falter, but his fingers twitched slightly at his side.
Fee exhaled through her nose. "I get it. Fire's a hell of a thing to be afraid of." She glanced back at the still-burning forest, the cobalt flames licking the sky. Her gaze flickered toward him, something almost resembling sincerity in her expression.
"I didn't mean to mess with you back there."
Lance didn't respond right away. His golden hair, now colored the color of rust, freed from his helmet, cast strange shadows over his face. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet.
"It's fine." A pause. Then, softer— "You came back."
Fee scratched the back of her head, looking away. "Yeah, well… Someone's gotta keep you guys from dying."
I snorted. "Oh, so now you care? I feel like the risk of that increases whenever you're around!"
Fee shot him a glare.
I rolled my eyes, but even as our bodies ached, even as exhaustion clung to our bones, somehow, things felt lighter.
Then Connie spoke.
"Alright, I gotta ask."
Fee sighed. "You always gotta ask."
"How did you even find us?"
That was the question I had pushed to the back of my mind ever since I spotted Fee on the horizon. Even Lance turned his head slightly, his tired eyes flicking toward Fee.
Fee grinned, but it didn't reach her eyes. "You guys are loud."
No one bought it.
"Fee." Lance's voice was firm. "Why did you come back?"
Her smirk wavered.
I narrowed his eyes. That's what had been bothering me. Fee had left us angry, grieving, done with us. It wasn't like her to change her mind just because. Was she really that volatile.
Fee scratched her nose. "Dumb luck, really. I was just passing through and saw the flames. Thought, 'Huh, that looks like those idiots I used to travel with probably getting themselves killed.'"
Connie's ears twitched. "Hah. You just happened to be 'passing through'?"
Fee shrugged. "Maybe."
A lie. Or at least, not the full truth.
But no one pushed further.
Not now.
Not when we were all barely standing on their feet.
Instead, there was a long silence, and then—
"Bacon deserves a feast after all that," Hogan said, breaking the tension. The pig, who had been unusually quiet, perked up with an eager oink.
"Yeah, yeah. You were very brave," Connie said, kneeling to pat his head. "You survived. Just like the rest of us."
Bacon snorted proudly, then waddled closer to Meili, nudging her leg. She gave him a small, tired smile and scratched behind his ears.
It was strange, I thought. Even with so much still unresolved, even with the weight of everything they had lost, somehow…
We were still together.
Lance finally looked up at the road ahead. The stars were bright now, the constellations sharper than ever.
Orion. Arneb. Regulus.
The same ancient patterns I had seen carved into the ruins of Orion. I had a feeling that if he stared long enough, he'd find something hidden between them—some secret left behind by the old world.
Maybe another battle. Maybe another war. Maybe something even worse.
But that wasn't their problem tonight. Lance sighed and spoke at last. "We should reach PrideFall by morning."
No one argued. We kept walking.
The fires burned behind them, the stars stretched above us, and in the distance—
The road lay ahead.
And what awaited us in PrideFall?