Vows made chains renewed

The morning sun spilled into the orphanage, bathing its sturdy walls and well-worn furniture in warm light. The usual routine of the orphanage was in full swing: children laughing as they fetched water, the faint clatter of dishes from the kitchen, and the hum of quiet conversation between Greaves and Darnell as they prepared for the day.

A knock at the door broke the calm. Greaves, wiping his hands on a cloth, exchanged a glance with Darnell. "Must be the captain," he said, moving to answer. When he opened the door, Captain Halwin stood there, flanked by four guards. His silver hair gleamed in the daylight, his weathered face calm but serious.

"Captain," Greaves greeted, stepping aside to let him in.

Halwin nodded as he entered, his sharp eyes scanning the room. "Morning, Greaves. Lera," he said as she appeared from the kitchen. "A quiet night, I hope?"

"As quiet as can be after... everything," Lera replied, offering a faint smile. "Please, sit. We've prepared tea."

Halwin removed his gloves, tucking them into his belt as he settled into a chair. His guards remained outside, giving the orphanage its privacy. Darnell and Sam joined the table, their expressions calm but attentive.

Halwin sipped his tea before speaking. "The slavers we captured have provided some information. Enough to know what we're dealing with—and what you've narrowly avoided."

Greaves leaned forward, his brow furrowed. "How bad is it?"

The captain placed his cup down, his expression hardening. "They weren't just any band of thugs. They were part of a larger network, well-funded and organized. The enchanted communication rings we found on them? The same grade as those issued to my men. Expensive, precise. Whoever funds them isn't short on coin."

Lera's hand tightened around her cup. "So they're... connected to something bigger."

Halwin nodded grimly. "That's right. And while they didn't report back to their higher-ups before their capture, their presence here wasn't random. The man who was asking questions in the village gave them information. He's gone now, likely fled when the attack failed."

Greaves' jaw tightened. "So Cross is why they came."

Halwin exhaled heavily. "An elf is a rare prize in the black markets. His heritage alone made him valuable enough for them to risk attacking you. The rest of the children were secondary. They thought this would be quick, easy gold."

"Lucky for us, they underestimated us," Darnell added, his voice steady. "Not that it makes this any less troubling."

"Agreed," Halwin said. "From what we can tell, this group operated as an isolated pod. A senior member saw an opportunity and acted without consulting their superiors. But make no mistake—if their organization finds out what happened here, you'll be dealing with much more dangerous individuals next time."

Sam, who had been quietly listening, spoke up. "How well-connected are we talking?"

Halwin glanced at him. "Connected enough to have access to resources that rival small armies. For now, their focus is elsewhere, and this pod's failure hasn't drawn attention. Let's keep it that way."

Lera glanced toward the children outside, her expression thoughtful. "What do we do in the meantime?"

"Keep a low profile," Halwin said firmly. "Don't draw attention to yourselves or the children. And Darnell," he added, turning to the guard, "file a formal report when you can. No rush, since this has been handled, but it needs to be recorded properly."

Darnell gave a small nod, his usual humor softened. "Understood, Captain."

Halwin rose, slipping his gloves back on. "You've done well, all of you. But this isn't over. Stay vigilant."

Greaves and Lera escorted him to the door, their expressions a mixture of gratitude and concern. The guards mounted their horses, the sound of hoofbeats fading into the distance. The orphanage returned to its quiet routine, though the weight of the captain's words lingered in the air.

As the sound of hoofbeats faded, silence settled in the room. Greaves leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "An organized slaver network. With enchanted rings and enough coin to rival armies. It's... overwhelming."

Lera sat across from him, her fingers tightening around her cup. "And they came because of Cross. Because of his heritage. If that man hadn't seen him—"

"It's not your fault, Lera," Darnell interrupted, his voice steady but firm. "You couldn't have known. What matters is that we stopped them."

Sam, who had been unusually quiet, set down his tea and leaned forward. "What happened here last night, though... it wasn't normal. The magic—the strength those kids showed—none of it was normal. And now, hearing about these slavers and how Cross is a prize to them, it feels like this isn't just about us anymore."

Darnell nodded slowly, his rosy cheeks slightly flushed. "I was thinking the same thing. The old gods... Aelon. You said his name, and something changed in me. I can't explain it, but after what I saw last night, I feel like this is bigger than us."

Sam met Darnell's gaze, his jaw tightening. "If this is tied to the old gods, then maybe we were meant to be here. To protect them. To help you."

Darnell stood, his posture firm as he placed a hand over his heart. "I don't know what the future holds, but I swear I'll do whatever I can to help protect these kids. They're tied to something greater, and I'll stand by you."

Sam hesitated, his eyes flicking to Lera and Greaves before he mirrored Darnell's gesture. "Me too. My life's always been about making things, fixing things. If I can use my skills to help these kids, I will."

The room seemed to hold its breath for a moment. Then, as if responding to their words, Alistair's mark began to glow faintly on his small chest. A soft, golden light radiated from the mark, and the room was bathed in its warm glow.

Everyone froze as chains of light appeared, connecting the babies in the other room. Thick, unbreakable chains linked the five infants, their bonds pulsing with an otherworldly energy. From Lera, two thinner chains extended—one to Sam and the other to Darnell. The final chain connected her to the glowing bond of the five children.

"This... this happened before," Lera whispered, her voice trembling. She looked down at her hand, remembering the night in the grove when she had named the children. "It was just like this, after I named them."

Greaves nodded, his brow furrowed. "That's right. Their marks glowed, and the chains appeared then too. It was Aelon's magic binding them together. But this... this is different."

"It's stronger," Sam said quietly, his face pale. "And... did you feel that? Like... like something accepted our vow?"

Darnell nodded slowly. "It was like... a presence. Not hostile, but... watching."

Greaves leaned forward, his elbows on the table. "The chains. The light. That's not normal magic. It has to be tied to Aelon, or the other old gods. It's the only explanation."

Lera rubbed her temples, her mind racing. "If the old gods are involved, then this isn't just about protecting orphans anymore. This is something bigger. And we need to figure out what that means."

Darnell gave a weak laugh, running a hand through his hair. "Well, one thing's for sure: life around here isn't going to be quiet anymore."

The group exchanged uneasy looks, the weight of their situation settling over them. The silence that followed wasn't born of fear, but of realization—they were all bound now, in ways they didn't fully understand.

As everyone processed what they had just witnessed. The faint glow of the chains slowly dimmed, leaving behind a residual warmth in the air. Sam and Darnell exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of awe and Joy.

Lera's voice broke the silence, her tone soft but filled with resolve. "Whatever this means, we're in this together. Aelon brought you both here for a reason. I can feel it."

Greaves, who had been unusually quiet, leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms with an exaggerated huff. "Well, I guess I'm just chopped liver, huh? Aelon doesn't think I'm good enough for one of these fancy glowing chains?"

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. "Maybe you need to make a speech too, Greaves. You've got to impress the gods."

Darnell grinned, leaning forward. "Yeah, maybe something heartfelt. Pour your soul out a bit."

Greaves rolled his eyes but couldn't stop a smirk from creeping onto his face. "Oh, sure. Let me just get down on one knee and start serenading the babies. That'll do it."

Laughter erupted around the table, the tension from earlier lifting slightly. Even Lera couldn't suppress a giggle as Greaves stood up and theatrically cupped his hands around his mouth.

"All right, you little glowing bundles of destiny!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the orphanage. "Fine! I vow to look after you too. Happy now?"

As the laughter began to fade, a sudden shift in the air silenced them all. Greaves froze mid-chuckle as a soft glow emanated from Lera's chest once more. This time, the light wasn't gold but a deep, rich purple. Another chain formed, extending from her mark and weaving gently through the room until it connected with Greaves.

His smirk vanished, replaced by wide eyes and an open mouth. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

Before anyone could respond, a sudden chill filled the air. Frost crept along the floor from where Greaves stood, spreading in jagged lines that shimmered in the dim light. A faint mist surrounded him, and his breath came out in visible puffs.

"Uh, Greaves…" Sam began, his voice tinged with both awe and caution.

Ice spikes shot up around Greaves in an instant, sharp and crystalline, encircling him in a jagged barrier. They didn't strike anyone, but they were close enough to make everyone flinch.

"What the—" Greaves stammered, looking down at his hands. Frost coated his fingertips, and the chill emanating from him intensified. His face was a mix of shock and disbelief. "I didn't… I didn't do this!"

Lera stepped forward cautiously, her voice calm despite the tension. "Greaves, take a breath. Focus."

He did as she said, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes. The frost around him began to subside, the ice spikes melting into harmless puddles. The cold aura dissipated, leaving the room eerily quiet once more.

Greaves opened his eyes, his hands still trembling. "That… that wasn't supposed to happen."

"What wasn't supposed to happen?" Darnell asked, his brows furrowed.

Greaves hesitated before speaking, his voice barely above a whisper. "My status page updated. I… I can use ice magic now. Actual, proper ice magic."

The room fell silent again, everyone staring at Greaves in stunned disbelief.

"You're serious?" Sam asked, breaking the silence. "Ice magic? Just like that?"

Greaves nodded slowly, holding out his hand. A small, jagged shard of ice materialized in his palm, glinting faintly before melting away.

Lera placed a hand on his shoulder, her expression both reassuring and curious. "It's Aelon's gift. He didn't forget you, Greaves. You're part of this just like the rest of us."

Greaves let out a shaky laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, I guess that settles it. Babysitting duty just got a lot colder."

The tension broke as the others laughed, though the wonder of what had just happened lingered. The bonds between them were growing stronger, not just in magic but in trust and unity.