Chapter 6 - Don't Pretend You’re Clean

The road out of the ruins was cracked dirt and dry roots. Trees leaned like drunks, and the sky looked sick. No birds. Just wind and silence and boots hitting ground.

Riven didn't say shit.

Nyra walked ahead, jaw set. She hadn't said a word since she handed Kerron over. Her face was stone. Cold. Riven caught her glancing at him once or twice, but it wasn't softness. Just caution.

Kerron walked behind, hands loose, sword on his back, but Riven didn't trust him worth a damn. The fucker hadn't earned anything. Not trust. Not peace. Not even food.

They walked till the sun dropped low.

Kerron finally spoke. "You always walk this quiet, or is it just when you're planning who to kill next?"

Riven kept walking.

"Come on, Burned Prince," Kerron sneered. "Or is it 'Butcher' now? Word is spreading. They say you left heads stacked like fucking firewood outside the outpost gates."

Riven stopped.

Turned.

Looked him dead in the eye. "You want a headcount? I'll start with yours."

Kerron didn't flinch. "You think you're some savior, huh? You think killing the whole damn world makes you better than the kings who ruined you?"

"No," Riven said. "I know exactly what I am."

Kerron stepped forward. "Then don't pretend you're clean. We're all dirty. Just some of us are honest about it."

That was it.

Riven grabbed him by the collar, slammed him into a tree. Hard. The sound cracked through the woods like a bone snapping.

Ashwake was at his throat.

Kerron smiled. "Go ahead. That sword's thirsty, right?"

Riven's voice dropped to a whisper. "You speak again, I cut out your fucking tongue."

Nyra didn't move. Didn't say a word. Just stood with her arms crossed, watching. Not scared. Not angry. Just... watching.

Kerron didn't push more. He just muttered, "Fucking hypocrite," and let himself fall to the ground.

They didn't talk for the next hour. The only sound was dirt crunching under their boots and the occasional snap of a dying branch.

They found the wagon just before dusk.

It was wrecked. Split in two like a god damn axe had fallen from the sky. One of the horses was still attached, rotting, ribs sticking out like fingers.

Crates busted open. Grain spilled. A trail of blood led from the front wheel to a pile of ash.

"Raid?" Nyra asked.

"Rebels or deserters," Riven muttered. "Doesn't matter."

He kicked over a crate, found a cloth bag stuffed with dried roots. Nyra snatched it without a word. He watched her stuff it into her satchel, fingers moving like she used to do this for real. Like healing was still something she remembered how to do.

Riven dug through another splintered box. Found a coin.

Gold.

Royal seal stamped right on it.

He pocketed it without a word.

"You planning on buying the king's head with that?" Kerron asked, smirking.

Riven ignored him.

They camped by a broken tree, its trunk snapped in half from whatever had crushed the wagon.

No one spoke for a long while.

Kerron started it again. "You wanna hear how I got out?"

Riven didn't answer.

Kerron talked anyway.

"Captain made me watch him kill a family. Said the boy talked back. I'd seen a lot of shit by then, but this one... kid was like seven. So that night I slit the captain's throat while he slept. Took his boots. Took his map. Didn't feel heroic. Just didn't want to watch another damn child die."

Nyra looked up from the fire. Her voice was soft but cold. "If you were ordered to kill me again... would you do it?"

Kerron didn't answer right away.

Then: "I don't know."

Wrong fucking answer.

Riven stood, walked over, grabbed rope from his satchel.

"Hey, what the fuck are you—"

"You sleep tied," Riven said. "Say another dumb thing and you sleep face down in the dirt."

Kerron didn't fight it. He sat with his hands bound tight. Spat at Riven's feet.

"You're not angry 'cause I lied," he said. "You're angry 'cause I told the truth."

"I'm angry because you're still breathing."

Nyra didn't say anything.

She just watched the fire. Like she wanted to throw herself in.

Middle of the night.

Riven woke to a sound.

Soft. Choked. 

Nyra.

She twisted in her blanket, eyes shut tight, mouth open in a soundless scream. Her fingers clawed the dirt. Riven crouched beside her, unsure whether to shake her awake or leave her be.

Then she spoke.

"Stop... please stop... the voices... don't not again..."

Riven stared.

The fuck did they do to her?

He placed a hand on her shoulder. Not gentle. Just there.

Her eyes snapped open.

Wild. Broken. Then she saw him.

Didn't say anything. Just breathed.

She sat up, arms around her knees.

"Room with no light," she whispered. "Metal floors. Chains. They made you listen to them. Over and over. You started to believe it. That you deserved it."

Riven didn't ask who 'they' were.

Didn't need to.

He just sat beside her. Silent.

Kerron snored a few feet away. Bastard slept through everything.

Nyra looked at Riven. Not soft. Not sad. Just tired.

"You don't scare me."

"You should," he said.

"I don't. Because I've seen real monsters. And you're not one."

Riven stood.

"Get sleep. We will move at dawn."

He walked to the edge of the firelight, sword at his hip.

Stood there for an hour.

Eyes on the dark.

Whispered to himself.

"None of us are fucking clean."