After the Storm

The battle was over.

The village of Draymoor lay in ruins—burned houses, broken carts, and the lingering scent of blood. But amidst the destruction, the heavy weight of fear had lifted.

Clement was defeated.

His battered body lay motionless, barely breathing, as Asvorn stood over him. His fists were still clenched, his knuckles raw and bloodied. It was over.

But his job wasn't done yet.

Clearing Out the Scum

The remaining bandits—Clement's loyal dogs—watched in stunned silence. Their leader, the man they feared and followed without question, had been beaten.

Some dropped their weapons immediately, raising their hands in surrender. Others hesitated, their eyes darting between each other.

Kaisel cracked his neck. "Tch. These rats don't know when to quit."

One of the bandits, a broad-shouldered man with a scar running down his face, let out a battle cry and lunged forward.

Bad move.

SHLICK.

Before he could even get close, Kaisel's blade pierced his chest. The bandit let out a choked gasp before slumping to the ground.

That was all it took.

The rest dropped to their knees, throwing their weapons aside.

"P-please! We surrender!" one of them begged.

Asvorn exhaled, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle into his bones. He wasn't in the mood for more bloodshed.

"Round them up," he ordered. "Tie them up. We're taking them to the city for judgment."

Kaisel smirked. "Hah. Acting like a real leader now."

Asvorn ignored him and turned his gaze to Clement. The man who had caused so much suffering.

He should kill him.

His fingers twitched at the thought.

But… no.

Death would be too easy.

He grabbed a rope and bound Clement's hands behind his back, tightening the knot.

"You'll answer for everything," Asvorn muttered.

Clement barely stirred, his swollen face twitching in pain. He was broken. Defeated.

For the first time in his life, Asvorn had beaten his father.

And it felt right.

A Moment of Peace

Asvorn wiped the sweat from his forehead, turning toward the villagers. They were watching him, eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and awe.

He barely had time to react before a pair of arms wrapped around him.

His mother.

"Asvorn…" Her voice was shaky, filled with emotion. "My boy…"

He froze.

For a long time, he had dreamed of this moment. Seeing her again. Protecting her. Proving he wasn't weak.

But now that it was happening, he didn't know what to say.

So, he just… held her back.

"I'm here, Mom," he whispered. "You're safe now."

Tears rolled down Anna's cheeks as she pulled back slightly, cupping his face.

"You've grown so much…" she said, smiling through her tears. "You're strong now. Just like I always knew you would be."

Asvorn swallowed the lump in his throat. He wasn't the type to cry, but… something about his mother's warmth made his chest ache.

"You don't have to fight anymore," she whispered. "You don't have to suffer like he did."

His grip on her tightened.

"…I know."

For the first time in a long while, he felt at peace.

A Warrior's Care

"Ahem."

A voice snapped him out of it.

Lyara stood nearby, arms crossed, brows furrowed.

Her eyes locked onto him—more specifically, the blood trickling down his arm.

"Asvorn," she said flatly.

He sighed. "What now?"

Lyara marched over, grabbed his wrist, and pulled him down onto a crate.

"Sit. You're injured."

Asvorn raised a brow. "It's not that bad."

She glared.

"Asvorn."

Something about the way she said his name made him shut up.

Kaisel chuckled from a distance. "Looks like you've got a wife already."

Lyara didn't even look at him.

"Shut up, Kaisel."

Asvorn smirked. For once, Kaisel was on the receiving end.

Lyara pulled out a small vial of healing salve, uncorking it with her teeth.

"This might sting," she warned.

Before Asvorn could protest, she pressed the salve against his wound.

Ssshhhhh…

A sharp burn shot through his shoulder, but he barely flinched.

Lyara's fingers were gentle as she worked, her expression focused.

"You're reckless," she muttered.

He blinked. "What?"

She dabbed at another wound, her touch softer than before.

"You always charge ahead, take the biggest risks… You never stop to think about what happens to you."

There was something else in her voice. Something… personal.

Asvorn tilted his head. "Are you… worried about me?"

She paused.

A light flush dusted her cheeks.

"Tch. Idiot."

But she didn't deny it.

For the first time, Asvorn noticed how close they were.

Her hands, soft and warm, tending to his wounds. The way she leaned in slightly, brows furrowed in concern.

A strange warmth spread through his chest.

He smirked. "You know, if you keep treating me this well, I might get the wrong idea."

Lyara froze.

Then—

WHACK.

She smacked him on the forehead.

"Shut up and sit still."

Kaisel, who had been watching the whole time, burst into laughter. "Hah! You two are hilarious."

Asvorn just chuckled, rubbing his forehead.

Lyara's scolding didn't bother him.

In fact… he kind of liked it.

New Respect

As Lyara finished tending to Asvorn's wounds, Kaisel walked over, crossing his arms.

He studied Asvorn for a moment, his usual smug expression gone.

"Hmph."

Asvorn raised a brow. "What?"

Kaisel scoffed. "Nothing."

He turned away but then muttered under his breath, "You're not as weak as I thought."

It wasn't much.

But coming from Kaisel, it meant a lot.

Asvorn smirked. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Kaisel just grumbled, looking away.

Lyara sighed. "You two are impossible."

Asvorn stretched, his body still sore, but…

For the first time in a long time, he wasn't alone.

He had people who cared about him.

His mother.

His allies.

His… friends.

And for now, that was enough.