Who are you again?
The words echoed through Adrian's head as he stared Haise down, rage simmering behind his eyes. How dare he lie straight to my face?
Without thinking, Adrian grabbed Haise by the collar and yanked him forward. "Stop lying, you bastard! Just admit you can't win without cheating!"
Haise shoved his hands against Adrian's chest, pushing him back. "Why do you even care? It was a spar, not a duel to the death."
"Just say it, damn it!"
Adrian lunged again,but this time, Haise didn't back off. He shoved him hard, knocking Adrian back into the mud. As Adrian tried to stand, Haise stepped forward and planted his boot on Adrian's throat.
A few people nearby started moving to intervene, but others blocked them, curious to see where it would go. Nothing exciting ever happened here anyway.
"Piece of shit, move your foot!" Adrian gasped, struggling beneath him.
Haise pressed down harder.
"I really don't get you," he muttered. "You wanted a fight. You lost. And now you're mad about it? You do realize it was a spar, right?"
"Shut up!"
Haise's foot pressed even harder, cutting Adrian's words short as he began to choke. Haise stared down at him, but his mind was elsewhere. Do I even care? If I killed him right now… I'd get another card, right?
Would anyone really miss him? Nobody's stopping me. They're just watching.
His foot didn't move. The thought lingered, tempting.
And he might've gone through with it, if not for the voice behind him.
"Dorian! Could you stop for a second? I'll need him in the future."
The familiar voice cut through the tension. Haise turned his head slightly. Arno stood at the edge of the crowd, Avari at his side.
With a slow exhale, Haise lifted his foot.
Adrian coughed hard, curling to his side and gripping his throat.
Arno stepped closer, sparing Adrian only a quick glance before turning to Haise. "We should talk. Inside." He raised his voice slightly as he looked around.
"Training's over!"
Then he turned and walked toward the nearby tent, the same one where he'd first spoken with Haise when he arrived.
Arno made a sharp gesture toward the mat near the cooking pot, and Haise followed without complaint. Avari was already there, seated in silence, the light of the tent casting shadows over the silver trim of her armor. She hadn't said a word since they entered. The bubbling water filled the space, mingling with the scent of dried herbs and something vaguely meaty simmering inside the pot. It was almost comforting, almost.
"You didn't go easy on him," Arno said, lowering himself down with a grunt. His eyes didn't show judgment, just tired curiosity.
"You don't seem mad about it."
"I needed confirmation on a few things." He reached for a handful of chopped roots and casually tossed them into the boiling pot like this was just another evening, just another meal. "You've got good instincts," he added, "even if your approach is… chaotic."
Haise cocked an eyebrow. "Was that a compliment?"
"Don't get used to it."
Leaning back on his hands, Haise watched the steam curl upward. His body still ached, but the warm air and the smell of broth dulled it a little. "So what now?" he asked. "Is this a lecture or a retirement talk?"
Arno didn't answer immediately. He stirred the pot slowly, methodically, like the motion helped him think. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter. "I was in the Imperial Army. Ten years ago exactly."
Haise squinted. "Just how old are you?"
Arno looked up, visibly irritated. "Thirty."
Haise blinked. "That's not that old, why'd you say it like you've got one foot in the grave?"
"I get enough of that from the recruits, thanks," Arno muttered, stabbing the ladle into the pot a little harder than necessary.
Across from him, Avari remained unreadable. No reaction, no movement, just that same silent presence that never quite felt passive.
"There's a war coming," Arno said at last. "The Empire is gearing up to go head-to-head with both merchant kingdoms. It's been building for years, and now it's about to happen."
Haise sat up straighter, his casual posture gone. "Okay... but what does any of that have to do with me?"
Arno didn't speak. Instead, he raised his hand and pointed toward Avari without looking.
"He was my best student. Still is. After he got scouted, the Empire started throwing gold at me. Begging me to send them more like him. They want exceptional recruits, people who don't just follow orders, but change the field. People with raw potential."
Haise rolled his eyes. "And?"
"And I know how rare that is," Arno said. "You're reckless. Untrained. Maybe even stupid. You do everything wrong, except when it actually matters. You adapt. You survive. And you surely don't hesitate."
Haise exhaled through his nose. "Still not seeing how that makes me your golden boy."
Arno held up a hand to cut him off. "I'm not saying this is what you want. And I'm sure as hell not saying it's what I want. I don't train people just to sell them off to the Empire. That was never the goal."
He stirred the pot again, then paused and looked directly at Haise.
"But my time's running out. I deserted. The Empire doesn't forget that. The only reason I'm not already shackled somewhere is because Avari spoke for me. But that protection? It's temporary."
Haise's gaze slid to Avari, who still hadn't moved.
"So what, you're planning to turn yourself in?"
Arno nodded. "That's the plan. Let Avari bring me in quietly. They get what they want, and they leave this place alone."
There was a long pause before Haise spoke again. "And this is the part where you tell me I'm in charge?"
Arno laughed, a dry, hollow sound. "Gods no. You'd be a disaster."
"Thanks."
"I just need someone to make sure Adrian doesn't screw everything up if tensions start rising. That's it. I'm not asking you to lead. I'm asking you to keep an idiot in check."
Haise stared at him for a moment, then glanced back down at the pot. Steam rolled off the surface in long curls, and the scent of broth grew stronger. Outside, the camp carried on, quiet, steady, unaware that its stability hung on a man about to walk away.
"That's it?" Haise asked.
"That's it," Arno confirmed.
A silence settled between them, broken only by the crackle of firewood and the soft bubbling of the soup.
"I don't like being responsible for anything," Haise muttered.
"I know," Arno replied, not looking up. "You'll get used to it."