72. A New Day

The moment Flint's body hit the ground, it was like all the air had been sucked from the world.

Char stood still, his breathing unsteady, his fingers twitching ever so slightly at his sides. His mind buzzed, deafening and chaotic, but at the same time, it was eerily blank.

He had just killed someone.

Not in self-defense. Not in some scripted battle scene in a book. He had chosen it. He had driven that dagger into Flint's throat with his own hand.

And now, there was blood on him.

His chest felt too tight. His stomach churned.

The world around him blurred.

"Char!"

Someone caught him—he barely registered who before his knees gave out.

Warm arms wrapped around him, steadying his body before he could hit the dirt. His heart hammered so fast it felt like it was going to crack his ribs apart.

"Hey—hey, breathe," a voice urged.

Merrick.

Char blinked sluggishly, barely aware that his whole body was shaking.

Mira knelt in front of him, eyes wide with worry. "You're okay," she whispered, pressing a hand to his cheek. "Char, you're okay."

He didn't feel okay.

His vision blurred again, but this time it wasn't from exhaustion or adrenaline.

It was tears.

His fingers dug into Merrick's arm as his breath hitched. His mind kept replaying it. The moment the blade slid in. The way Flint's eyes widened. The sickening gurgle of his last breath.

And he had done that.

Char's entire body shook. "I—"

His voice broke.

Merrick just held onto him. "You did what you had to," he murmured, voice steady but kind. "You saved Selka. You saved us."

Mira's fingers brushed over his cheek. "Flint was a monster," she whispered. "He hurt so many people. He was going to hurt more."

Char just closed his eyes.

The weight in his chest didn't ease.

But he didn't push them away, either.

He let himself fall against them.

Let himself feel the full weight of what he had done.

And for a while, they just held him.

A short distance away, Ferme watched.

Her arms were crossed, her usual sharp expression unreadable.

Beside her, Lucien stood still, holding Selka close.

The little girl sniffled, wiping at her teary eyes, but she wasn't looking at Char.

She was staring at Flint's lifeless body.

Lucien followed her gaze, his grip on her tightening slightly.

After a long silence, Ferme spoke.

"He made his choice."

Lucien exhaled, his shoulders tense. "I know."

Selka looked up at him. "Will… will things be better now?"

Lucien didn't answer right away.

But then, slowly, he nodded. "I'll make sure of it."

Selka pressed her face back into his tunic, hugging him tighter.

Ferme finally stepped forward. "I'll take care of the body," she said simply.

Lucien didn't argue.

As Ferme crouched down and lifted the corpse, her expression didn't change.

She had seen plenty of death before. This was nothing new.

But still—

She cast one last glance at Char.

At the boy who had just killed for the first time.

And for a brief moment—

Her sharp, unwavering gaze softened

*

As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows over the cavernous settlement, Lucien stood before his people.

The Valkar had gathered in uneasy silence, their faces etched with uncertainty, confusion, and exhaustion.

Everything had changed in the span of a night.

Their Chief was dead.

A new one had risen.

And now, they waited to hear what would become of them.

Lucien stepped forward, his hands gripping the edges of the stone podium where Rhun had once stood. His jaw was tense, his body still aching from the fight, but his voice, when he spoke, was steady.

"My people," he began, his golden eyes sweeping over them. "You have all heard much today. You have seen much."

He let the weight of those words settle before continuing.

"I will not waste time with empty words. There has been treachery in our midst."

A murmur rippled through the crowd.

Lucien's hands tightened against the stone. "A man named Flint, an outsider, came to us under the guise of reason, of wisdom. He deceived us. He whispered poison into our ears, twisting our thoughts, turning us against those who came seeking nothing but survival. He planted seeds of doubt and hatred. And I—" he exhaled sharply, "I allowed it."

He let that admission hang in the air.

He had to own it.

He saw Ferme watching him from the side. Saw Selka standing at her side, clutching the hem of her sleeve.

Lucien's voice hardened. "The humans were falsely accused. They were not our enemies."

The crowd's reaction was mixed—some nods of agreement, others still uncertain, but no one shouted in protest.

That was enough.

Lucien took a slow breath.

"This is the truth: Flint was a liar and a manipulator. He sought to divide us, to use us for his own ends. And when he was found out—he tried to cover his tracks the only way he knew how. With blood."

The murmur grew.

Lucien clenched his fists. "He orchestrated the capture of my own sister. Had her bound and brought here under the threat of death." His eyes darkened. "He would have used her as a pawn—he would have let her die."

Selka flinched slightly, pressing closer to Ferme.

Lucien's voice dropped lower, quieter—but no less powerful.

"He paid for his treachery with his life."

Silence.

Then, a rustle of movement, shifting feet. Processing.

Lucien let the words settle before delivering the final blow.

"The humans are free to go. They are owed apologies. And so, as the new Chief of the Valkari—" he raised his chin, shoulders squared, "I offer them my own."

He turned, facing Char, Mira, and Merrick, who stood at the edge of the crowd.

"I was wrong."

Char didn't move, but his gaze met Lucien's evenly.

Lucien swallowed his pride. "You came here with no ill intent, and yet you were treated as criminals. That was my failing." He exhaled, then inclined his head slightly. "I hope, in time, you can forgive what has happened here."

Silence stretched for a long moment.

Then, slowly, the Valkari began to nod.

It wasn't much.

But it was a start.

Lucien stepped back, letting his people absorb his words.

The crowd began to disperse, some speaking in hushed voices, others merely retreating to their homes.

The speech was over.

But the real work was just beginning.

After the crowd had scattered, Lucien turned to Char, Mira, and Merrick.

For the first time that night, he looked tired.

Selka was by his side, clutching his sleeve.

Ferme stood beside them, arms crossed, her sharp eyes flicking between the humans.

Lucien sighed. "I won't ask you to stay."

Char raised an eyebrow.

Lucien gave a small, humorless smile. "I doubt you'd want to."

Merrick scoffed, shaking his head.

Mira, still looking pale from her injuries, studied him carefully.

Lucien ran a hand down his face. "Things are going to be different here."

"Are they?" Char asked, voice quiet but pointed.

Lucien met his gaze. "They will be."

A pause.

Selka tugged at Lucien's sleeve.

He glanced down at her.

She hesitated, then turned her eyes to Char.

"…You won't be here to protect me anymore, will you?"

Her voice was small.

Something ached in Char's chest.

"No," he said softly. "But your brother will."

Selka looked back at Lucien.

He hesitated—then rested a gentle hand atop her head.

"I will."

Selka bit her lip—then hugged him tight.

Lucien stilled for a moment—then wrapped his arms around her.

Char, watching them, let out a slow breath.

"…I hope you're right," he said.

Lucien looked up, eyes steadier than before.

"I will be," he said.

For the first time, Char believed him.

*

Later that night, in Lucien's quarters…

Selka sat on the edge of her bed, swinging her legs slightly. The room was dim, lit only by a few embers glowing in the hearth. Lucien sat nearby, staring into the low flames, deep in thought.

For a long time, neither of them spoke.

Then, Selka broke the silence.

"…Can I ask you something?"

Lucien turned, blinking. He was still getting used to this—to calling her his sister instead of just the orphan they all raised together.

He nodded. "Of course."

Selka hesitated, gripping her blanket. "What would you say if…" She paused, then took a breath and met his gaze. "What would you say if I wanted to leave?"

Lucien froze.

The embers crackled softly.

The air in the room felt suddenly very still.

Selka looked down, wringing her fingers together. "I know it's sudden, and I know I just found out about… everything. But…" Her voice softened. "I want to go with them."

Lucien swallowed. His throat felt tight.

"…You do?"

Selka nodded. "I've never been outside the settlement. Never seen anything beyond these mountains." She shifted on the bed. "And Char… Mira… Merrick… they looked out for me." She hesitated. "And I think I want to see where they go."

Lucien's heart ached.

He had just gained a sister—just learned the truth about her.

And now she wanted to leave?

His fingers curled against his leg. Part of him wanted to say no.

To keep her here, where it was safe.

But another part of him—the part that had lost so much in the last few days—knew he didn't have the right to trap her here.

Not when he himself had chosen who he wanted to be.

He took a slow breath.

"…Alright."

Selka's eyes widened. "Really?"

Lucien gave a small, sad smile. "Really."

She launched herself forward, hugging him tightly.

Lucien hesitated—then wrapped his arms around her.

His voice was quiet when he spoke.

"…Just promise me one thing."

Selka pulled back, blinking. "What?"

Lucien rested a hand on her head.

"Promise you'll come back. When you're ready."

Selka grinned.

"I promise."

*

Char crouched over his bag, adjusting the contents with careful precision. Mira was resting nearby, her wounds still healing, while Merrick sat on the floor, fiddling with the strap of his pack.

But Char's attention was on the six extra Ascension Stones sitting neatly in a pouch.

Lucien had given them as part of his apology.

Char traced a finger over the smooth, faintly glowing surface of one of them.

"Five of them," he murmured.

Mira glanced over. "Thinking of keeping them?"

Char shook his head. "I'll bring one to each of the others back in Oryn-Vel." His voice turned thoughtful. "Then I'll have two extras… good for trading."

Merrick, from the other side of the room, smirked. "Sounds smart. Never know when one of those'll come in handy."

Char nodded.

A knock on the door made them all turn.

Lucien stepped inside, his expression serious—but there was something softer about him now.

And behind him, gripping the strap of a packed travel bag, was Selka.

The three humans blinked.

Lucien exhaled slowly, stepping aside so that Selka could enter fully. His golden eyes flickered with something unreadable as he turned back to Char.

"She wants to go with you," he said.

Char's eyebrows lifted slightly, but he said nothing, glancing between the two of them.

Lucien swallowed. "I won't stop her. Not after everything that's happened." He looked at Selka with deep emotion in his gaze. "She deserves to see the world. To make her own choices." His voice turned quieter. "She deserves that freedom."

Selka stepped forward, looking at Char, Mira, and Merrick.

"…I want to go," she said, determined.

Char glanced at Mira and Merrick.

They exchanged a look.

Then, after a moment, Char exhaled and nodded.

"…Alright," he said.

Merrick smirked. "Guess we've got a new little sister now."

Mira beamed. "She's gonna be the cutest member of the team."

Selka giggled.

Lucien let out a slow breath. He kneeled, looking Selka in the eyes one last time.

"You can come home anytime," he said, voice firm but gentle.

Selka smiled, reaching out and squeezing his hand.

"I know."

Lucien hesitated—then pulled her into a hug.

"…Stay safe."

Selka hugged him back.

And then, she turned to face her new path