The ruined tower leaned like a broken tooth against the night sky. Its top was long collapsed, leaving only jagged stone walls and shattered flagstones in its gut. A fire crackled low in the center — not for warmth, but for light. Just enough to keep the dark from feeling infinite.
The green knights were quiet.
The two wounded rested in the corner beneath a torn banner that had once borne the symbol of a forgotten province. Vale sat polishing a dented helm, the expression behind his eyes unreadable.
Ryliegh stood at the edge of the firelight, arms crossed, helmet still on.
Phoenix sat with his back to a crumbled wall, flamberge laid beside him. He hadn't spoken since they arrived. He hadn't removed his helm.
Until now.
Wordlessly, Phoenix reached up and undid the clasps.
The metal came off slow, deliberate.
Golden eyes met the firelight — not glowing, not divine. Just bright. Sharp. Unusual.
One of the green knights stared. "Your eyes—"
"Don't mean anything," Phoenix cut in. His voice was quiet. Not tired. Not angry. Just honest.
"I was born with them. No prophecy. No power. No miracle. Just bad luck."
Vale leaned forward slightly. "We thought the reds died to an ambush. That no one had a chance to—"
"They did die to an ambush," Phoenix said.
He looked down at the fire, the shadows flickering across his face. "They hit us fast. Grunts first. Then the soldiers. Cut through the left flank. The commander fell trying to regroup. Then the horn failed. Then the line broke."
He ran a hand through sweat-matted hair. "Some of us ran. They chased. I stayed."
Ryliegh spoke for the first time. "Why?"
"Because someone had to."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I killed everything that didn't run. The beasts. The soldiers. I burned through my short blade. Cracked the flamberge. Lost the others. Lost my breath. My hearing. My brothers."
No one interrupted.
Phoenix looked up again. His eyes didn't waver.
"There's nothing special about me. No divine right. No cursed blood. No chosen one crap. I just… didn't stop swinging."
The fire popped.
Vale broke the silence. "That many? Alone?"
Phoenix gave a crooked smile. "Hard to count when your visor's full of blood."
Another green knight asked, "Why'd you stay in the clearing?"
Phoenix shrugged. "Felt like if I moved, I'd lose something. Them. Myself. I don't know."
He looked toward Ryliegh.
"I didn't expect to live. And I didn't expect anyone would come looking."
Ryliegh nodded once. "Neither did I."
Phoenix smiled faintly. "And yet, here we are. Breathing."
A long silence passed. Then Vale spoke again.
"We'll record your account. It'll go to command. You'll be listed in the record."
Phoenix leaned back, resting his head against the wall. "Do whatever you want."
The fire burned lower.
Ryliegh finally stepped into the light. He looked at Phoenix, then sat beside him. Still armored. Still silent.
No thanks. No praise.
Just presence.
Phoenix let out a breath, slow and real.
"You ever take that helmet off?" he asked.
"No."
"Fair. My face is prettier anyway."
Ryliegh didn't respond.
The fire cracked again. Somewhere outside, the forest moved — but it didn't come closer.
And for the first time in days, Phoenix closed his eyes.