Tension

[Alicia's POV]

Two days had passed since the vote, but the wounds it left behind hadn't even begun to heal. The house had become a battlefield of unspoken resentment and sharp-tongued arguments, the tension thick enough to choke on.

Every step felt like walking on eggshells, every glance a potential spark that could ignite something ugly. The worst of it was between Tobias and Talia—their clashes growing more vicious with each passing day.

What started as sharp remarks and irritated sighs had turned into full-blown shouting matches, their voices echoing through the walls long after the fights ended.

And then there was Rowan.

He had withdrawn into himself, retreating to his room for hours on end. He trained relentlessly, though none of us saw much of it. Whether he was strategizing or simply drowning in his own fury, I couldn't say.

But the few times we did see him, he felt… changed. His words were edged with a sharpness that hadn't been there before, like every sentence carried a blade hidden beneath it. His once steady gaze was now dark with rage, always distant, always burning. He had lost the most that night—failed not just in his revenge, but as a leader. And it was consuming him.

But none of us blamed him. Not really.

His pain was something we all understood, even if we couldn't reach him through it. I had tried. More than once, I had knocked on his door, attempted to bridge the gap with a few words. But each time, he brushed me off, his responses clipped and hollow. I could see it—the way his anger was hollowing him out from the inside, the way his grief was twisting into something dangerous.

I was worried. More than worried.

Because I knew where this path led. And I feared that, at the end of it, there would be nothing left of him at all.

For the first time in days, Rowan had finally stepped out of his room. He had left with Elias, heading to the market for supplies—or at least, that was the excuse. In truth, I knew Elias had another purpose. He would try to talk Rowan down, try to pull him back from the edge before it was too late. But deep down, I couldn't shake the feeling that it was already pointless. Rowan had made up his mind. His path was set, and no amount of pleading would change that.

Still… maybe there was a sliver of hope. Maybe Elias could reach him in a way the rest of us couldn't.

In the meantime, I sat in the main room with Handy, trying to focus on something—anything—other than the gnawing unease in my chest. The board game between us, Beasts & Bastions, was an old favorite of mine, one of the few things that still brought me a sense of comfort. It was a game of strategy and war, played between two factions—the monstrous Beasts and the human Bastion forces. A game of survival, of sacrifice, of inevitable losses.

It had been my favorite since childhood, back when things had been… simpler. Before the world demanded so much from me.

Handy had never been much of a strategist, but I made him learn it anyway. The first time I caught him staring at me too long after he saved my life, I shoved the board in front of him and forced him to play. Maybe I had done it to distract him—or maybe to distract myself.

The thought dragged me back to the day we met, to the moment everything changed. Handy still had both hands back then. He was whole. And because of me… he wasn't anymore.

He had thrown himself in front of me, taken the blade meant for my neck. I still remembered the sickening sound of steel meeting flesh, the way his arm had barely clung to him before it was lost entirely. He had saved me without hesitation, without even thinking. And to this day, I still didn't know why.

The guilt still ate away at me, gnawed at the edges of my mind every time I looked at the empty space where his hand used to be. It had been years since that day, but the weight of it never lessened. It never faded.

I moved my piece without thinking, sending my archer into a hopeless assault. It wasn't until Handy clicked his tongue and shook his head that I snapped out of my thoughts.

"Ey, Dame, ya should focus on the game more," he said, his voice carrying that familiar rough-edged amusement. He placed his piece down with careful precision, and too late, I realized what he had done. A trap. My piece was as good as gone.

"Yeah, perhaps I should," I muttered, leaning back with a sigh.

The game continued, the rhythmic clatter of wooden pieces against the board filling the quiet space between us. It was almost enough to let me forget the tension that hung thick in the air. Almost.

But then, just as I was about to plan my next move, a sharp voice sliced through the room like a blade.

"Tobias, how can you fucking say that?" The sheer venom in Talia's words made me flinch. "You rat! After everything he's done for you, you can't even support him in a single thing?"

Here they went again.

The arguments had become routine now, a never-ending loop that always revolved around Rowan. Every day, every night, the same damn fight.

Tobias scoffed, leaning back in his chair as if this whole thing was just another irritation in his day. "Sorry, cunt, not everyone is ready to throw themselves at death's door."

I knew where this was heading. The words weren't even surprising anymore. The tension in the house had been simmering ever since the vote, and now it was boiling over. Again.

I tried to step in. "Guys, please—" My voice was weak, barely more than a murmur, and it drowned beneath the rising storm.

"Oh, our little pussy-boy," Talia sneered, turning her glare on Tobias with pure contempt. Her body was rigid, her hands curled into fists. "Scared of a little gang filled with slum dogs. How very fitting of you, sissy."

Tobias grinned, slow and mocking. "What did you say? I couldn't hear ya over the sound of Rowan's dick in your mouth."

A single second of silence.

Then everything exploded.

"What the fuck did you just say?!" Talia's voice was raw with fury, and before anyone could react, she lunged at him. Her body shimmered with mana, the air around her twisting with barely restrained power. 

Talia's fists flew like a storm, each strike driven by raw, awakened strength. Tobias barely held up under the assault, his arms raised in a desperate defense, blocking what he could. But it wasn't enough. Every impact forced him back, his footing faltering under the sheer force of her rage. He looked like he had stumbled straight into hell, a place where there was no escape—only the sharp sting of Talia's fury.

"Are ya mad?! No mana in the buildin', ye heard?!" Handy's voice bellowed over the chaos, his thick accent roughened by frustration. "Who do ya think has to fix this shit every time, huh?! Walls don't mend themselves, ya fuckin' goblins!"

The words hit like a slap of cold water. Talia's fist froze mid-swing, Tobias half-crouched behind his arms, both of them snapping their heads toward Handy as if just realizing he was there.

"What?" they said in unison, blinking.

Handy threw his hands up, his face twisted into an expression of pure exasperation. "What, what?! Ye always breakin' shit with yer little girl fights!" His voice boomed like he was scolding a couple of reckless kids, not seasoned fighters.

I couldn't help it—I giggled. Serves them right.

Tobias shot me a glare, still breathless, and Talia looked like she was debating whether she should turn her fists on Handy next.

Before the tension could flare up again, I decided to cut in. "Guys, could you please stop fighting and come here for a second?" I tried to keep my voice even, but there was a weight to my words that even I felt.

For the first time in what felt like forever, they actually listened. No sharp retorts, no dismissive glances—just silence, their eyes fixed on me, waiting. It was almost unnerving. I hadn't exactly planned on being the voice of reason, but someone had to step up. I took a slow breath, my mind racing to find the right words.

"So, listen." I let my voice carry, steady but firm. I paused, letting the weight of the moment settle before I spoke again. "I know things have been hard lately. Tensions are high, fights break out over nothing, and with Rowan… mostly gone, there's no one to keep us steady. No one to lead us. But that's exactly why we need to act responsibly, even when we don't see eye to eye. Even when it feels impossible."

I scanned their faces, gauging their reactions. Tobias crossed his arms but didn't argue. Talia's fists were still clenched at her sides, but she wasn't moving to throw another punch. Handy just watched, his expression unreadable.

I took another breath and pressed on. "Rowan needs us. Whether he admits it or not, he's spiraling, and if we don't step in now, we might lose him completely. He's in a dark place, and it's up to us to pull him ou—"

Before I could finish, the heavy wooden doors at the front of the house swung open.