Caden's past

The fire crackled softly in the quiet of the night, casting long shadows across the trees. Jasmine sat close to Caden, tending to his wound. The stranger who had saved them—a man named Orin—stood nearby, leaning against a tree, keeping watch. His face was mostly hidden by the flickering shadows, but his eyes remained sharp, scanning the dark woods for any sign of movement.

Caden winced as Jasmine tightened the bandage around his side, but he didn't complain. He had been quiet ever since the fight, his face a mask of pain and something else—something deeper that Jasmine couldn't quite place. She glanced at him, her brow furrowed with concern.

"You should rest," she said softly, breaking the silence. "You've lost a lot of blood."

Caden shook his head, his jaw clenched. "I'm fine," he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual strength.

Orin stepped forward, his eyes flicking toward Caden with a knowing look. "You're stubborn," he said, his tone low but not unkind. "But she's right. You won't do anyone any good if you push yourself too far."

Caden didn't respond. Instead, he stared into the fire, his expression distant, as though he were somewhere far away from the small clearing in the woods. Jasmine wanted to ask what was on his mind, but she wasn't sure how. She had never seen him like this—so withdrawn, so haunted.

After a long moment, Caden let out a heavy sigh, his gaze still fixed on the dancing flames. "I never wanted any of this," he said quietly, his voice barely audible over the crackling fire.

Jasmine frowned, glancing at him. "What do you mean?"

Caden's eyes shifted, meeting hers for the briefest moment before looking away again. "This fight. This war. It wasn't supposed to be mine." He paused, his hands tightening into fists. "But I guess it always was."

Jasmine exchanged a glance with Orin, who remained silent, watching Caden with the same intensity he had shown during the battle. Something about the way Orin looked at him made Jasmine wonder if he already knew more about Caden than he let on.

Caden let out another sigh, his body sagging slightly as if the weight of his own words were too much to bear. "You've never asked about my past," he said, his voice a little stronger now, though still laced with bitterness. "And I've never told you. But maybe it's time you knew."

Jasmine felt her heart tighten. She had always sensed that Caden carried some burden from his past, something he rarely spoke of. But she had never pressed him for details, knowing that if he wanted to tell her, he would. Now, it seemed, the time had come.

"I grew up in a village not far from here," Caden began, his voice distant. "Small, quiet. My father was a farmer, my mother a healer. We weren't wealthy, but we got by. For a long time, things were… normal. I was happy."

Jasmine watched him closely, sensing the shift in his tone. There was a wistfulness there, but also a hint of something darker, something he was holding back.

"But then the war came," Caden continued, his eyes hardening. "It started small. Skirmishes between the king's soldiers and the rebels. It seemed far away at first, like something that would never reach us. But it did. And when it did, everything changed."

Jasmine's breath caught in her throat. She had heard stories like this before—how the war had crept into the lives of ordinary people, tearing families apart, destroying homes. But hearing it from Caden, seeing the pain in his eyes as he spoke, made it feel all too real.

"The soldiers came to our village," Caden said, his voice tight with anger. "They were looking for recruits. Forced conscription, they called it. Anyone old enough to hold a sword was taken—whether they wanted to fight or not. My father… he refused. Said he wouldn't let them take me."

Jasmine's heart sank, knowing where this was going.

Caden's hands clenched into fists. "They killed him. Right in front of me. And then they took me anyway."

The fire crackled in the silence that followed, the weight of Caden's words hanging heavy in the air. Jasmine felt a lump rise in her throat, but she didn't know what to say. She had always known that Caden had suffered, but she hadn't realized how deeply the war had scarred him.

"I spent the next few years fighting for a cause I didn't believe in," Caden said bitterly. "The king's army trained me, made me into a weapon. I hated every moment of it, but I didn't have a choice. I was just a kid, barely seventeen. I didn't know how to escape."

Jasmine's mind raced as she tried to imagine Caden as a boy, forced into a life of violence and bloodshed. It was hard to reconcile the man sitting next to her with the frightened, angry boy he must have been.

"But then, one day, I got my chance," Caden said, his voice growing quieter. "There was an ambush. The rebels attacked our camp, and in the chaos, I ran. I didn't care where I was going—I just needed to get away. I wandered for weeks, hiding in the forests, stealing food when I could. I thought I'd die out there."

He paused, his gaze drifting to the trees beyond the firelight. "But I didn't die. I was found—by the very people I'd been fighting against. The rebels."

Jasmine's eyes widened. She hadn't expected this. "The rebels took you in?"

Caden nodded. "At first, they didn't trust me. Thought I was a spy. But after a while, they realized I had nowhere else to go. I became one of them—fighting for the cause my father had believed in. It was… different. But the violence was the same. I wasn't free. I just traded one war for another."

Orin, who had remained silent throughout Caden's story, finally spoke. "And that's when you learned about the letter, wasn't it?"

Caden's eyes flicked toward him, a flicker of recognition crossing his face. "Yes," he said quietly. "That's when I learned the truth."

Jasmine glanced between them, confused. "What truth?"

Caden hesitated for a moment, as if weighing whether to say more. Finally, he sighed, his expression grim. "The war isn't what it seems. The rebels, the soldiers, the king—they're all playing a game. And the people in the middle? People like us? We're just pawns. The letter is proof of that. Proof that the war has been manipulated from the start."

Jasmine's heart pounded in her chest. "So… what do we do now?"

Caden's eyes met hers, filled with a mixture of resolve and sorrow. "We deliver the letter. And then we stop running."