Chapter 63: Dangers on the Road
The second day of travel dawned bleak and overcast.
Gray clouds rolled overhead, low and heavy, threatening rain.
The fields around the narrow road were barren — just broken fences, dead grass, and abandoned farmsteads stretching endlessly in every direction.
Kaelen rode at the front, eyes sharp beneath his hood.
His family followed quietly.
The road to Heartland was long —
and not all who walked it survived.
Signs of Trouble
Around midday, Kaelen spotted something troubling.
Broken wagon tracks in the mud.
Splintered wood.
Faint bloodstains, half-washed by last night's frost.
He dismounted silently.
Examined the ground.
"Raiders," he muttered.
His father grimaced.
"Bandits?"
Kaelen nodded.
"Desperate ones. Probably targeting travelers."
Riven tightened his grip on the reins.
"Let them try," he growled, fire already sparking behind his eyes.
Kaelen gave a thin smile.
His brother's spirit hadn't changed.
But spirit alone wouldn't protect them.
He turned to his family.
"Stay close to me. No heroics."
They obeyed — without protest.
They trusted him.
That trust burned hotter than any crown ever could.
The Ambush
It came just before sunset.
A low whistle through the trees — the signal of a trap.
Kaelen's instincts flared.
"Down!" he barked.
Arrows hissed through the air, thunking into the dirt where they had stood moments before.
Figures burst from the underbrush — filthy men clad in scraps of armor, faces twisted by hunger and greed.
"Drop the gear!" one shouted.
"Leave the horses and walk away!"
Kaelen stepped forward slowly, cloak falling back to reveal Sovereignblade Astryn gleaming at his side.
His voice was calm.
Cold.
"You've chosen the wrong prey."
The bandits hesitated — sensing something they couldn't name.
A pressure.
A presence.
Like standing before a gathering storm.
But desperation made fools of men.
They charged.
Kaelen Moves
The first man lunged —
rusted sword raised high.
Kaelen moved like silver lightning.
One slash — clean, effortless.
The bandit's weapon shattered.
He crumpled to the ground, unconscious before he hit the dirt.
The others froze.
Kaelen's Sovereign Aura flared outward —
a pulse of pure, undeniable will.
The horses reared.
The trees shivered.
Even the earth seemed to hold its breath.
Several bandits dropped their weapons and fled without a word.
The last few, too stubborn or too stupid, rushed anyway.
They never reached him.
A flicker of wind — Lyanna's subtle magic.
A sudden trip of vines — Alen's clumsy but instinctive awakening.
And then Riven charged, tackling one of the men with a wild roar, fists flying.
Kaelen smiled inwardly.
His family was already growing.
Already standing beside him.
Aftermath
Minutes later, the few remaining bandits lay groaning in the dirt.
Kaelen approached the ringleader — a gaunt man missing three fingers on one hand.
"Mercy," the man rasped, eyes wide with terror.
Kaelen studied him.
Then shook his head.
"Mercy is for those who seek redemption."
He turned away.
The Heartland would need laws.
Would need justice.
But today was not the day he became an executioner.
Today he was a guide.
A protector.
A Sovereign.
Campfire Resolve
That night, around a crackling fire, Kaelen patched minor wounds, checking on each of his family in turn.
His mother wrapped a blanket around Alen's shoulders.
His father sharpened a blade quietly, lost in thought.
Riven sat proudly, a small cut across his cheek he refused to let Kaelen heal.
Lyanna scribbled furiously in one of her notebooks — recording everything she had witnessed.
Kaelen leaned back, staring at the stars.
The road was long.
The dangers were real.
But they were ready.
Together, they would carve a future from the bones of the broken world.
One battle at a time.
One dream at a time.
And no force — no king, no god, no forgotten fear — would stand before them.