The night dragged on, heavy with the smell of charred wood and iron blood. The clearing lay in ruins, a scar upon the forest, but within its shadowed embrace Ragnar and his companions caught their breath.
The firelight painted them in shades of exhaustion—Kael with his blade resting against the earth, sharp eyes scanning the dark as if daring it to move again; Dax lying sprawled on the ground, chest heaving, laughter bubbling despite broken ribs; Ruin silent, knuckles bleeding from too many fists smashed into armored skulls.
And Selene—Selene sat apart, her silver chains gone slack at last, pale skin glistening with sweat, hands trembling as if she could no longer tell where her body ended and her curse began.
Ragnar stood among them, silent, his talons cracked and smoldering faintly, the shadow curling gently around him like smoke at rest. His crimson-black eyes stared past the ruin, into the horizon where stars pierced the darkness.
For a long while, no one spoke. The only sound was the hiss of cooling embers.
Then Dax groaned, rolling onto his side. "Hah… I swear, Ragnar, you've got the worst talent for attracting trouble. First the hunters, now shadow cultists? What's next? Dragons raining fire?"
Ruin, usually expressionless, smirked faintly. "If that happens, he'll probably just devour them too."
Dax laughed, then winced, clutching his ribs. "Don't give him ideas."
Even Kael allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch upward.
Selene, however, did not laugh. Her eyes were locked on her trembling hands. Slowly, she clenched them into fists. The chains rattled faintly, a soft metallic cry that seemed to echo her heart.
"Why?" she whispered, not looking at anyone. "Why do you all keep fighting? Keep following him? We're hunted. Cursed. Every step leads to another battlefield. Don't you ever… want to stop?"
The words cut through the quiet like a blade.
Kael's gaze sharpened, his voice low and cold. "Stop? If we stop, we die. If we run, they'll hunt us down one by one. The only way forward is through."
Selene shook her head. "That's not what I mean. You fight because you have no choice. But Ragnar…" Her eyes lifted, silver light meeting crimson black. "You fight even when it hurts you. Even when it costs you. Why?"
Ragnar turned to her, his face unreadable in the firelight. For a moment, he didn't answer. He didn't have to. His silence was often enough to drive men to madness.
But this time, he spoke.
"When I was nothing," Ragnar said softly, "the world looked at me and saw less than dirt. They told me to crawl, to beg, to stay silent. But I watched. I listened. And I swore that one day, I'd make them see me. Even if it meant becoming the thing they feared most."
His shadow pulsed faintly, responding to the weight of his words.
"I don't fight because I want to. I fight because if I don't, everything I've endured, everyone I've lost—it all means nothing."
Silence followed. The fire cracked. Selene's eyes glistened, though she quickly looked away, hiding whatever storm brewed inside her.
Dax sighed, breaking the heaviness with a crooked grin. "Damn. You always have to sound like a tragic hero, don't you?"
"Better than sounding like an idiot," Kael muttered.
"Oi!" Dax barked, clutching his ribs again when the laughter hurt too much.
Ruin smirked, shaking his head. "Some things never change."
The faintest hint of warmth touched Ragnar's expression—something almost human, almost amused. The moment passed quickly, but Selene noticed it.
They spent the rest of the night in uneasy rest. Wounds were bound, firewood gathered, watch rotations set. The world outside their small circle remained hostile, but for the first time in days, the air within was alive with something fragile—camaraderie.
When dawn bled across the treetops, painting the ashes gold, Selene woke to find Ragnar standing alone. He held something in his hands, fingers brushing against it with rare gentleness.
It was a necklace. Faded silver, simple in design, but the way he looked at it made it seem precious beyond measure.
Selene froze, her breath catching in her throat. She knew that necklace.
Her voice trembled. "Where… where did you—"
Ragnar turned, holding it out to her. His gaze, though hard as ever, held a flicker of something else—something softer, hidden beneath layers of scars.
"You dropped it," he said simply. "Or maybe you sold it. Either way, it found its way back."
Her hand shook as she reached for it. When her fingers brushed the metal, tears welled unbidden in her eyes.
"My mother's…" she whispered. "I sold it… for medicine. I thought it was gone forever."
Ragnar said nothing. He didn't tell her that he had gone back, quietly, when she wasn't looking, and taken it from the shopkeeper's hands with coin he could ill afford. He didn't say how long he had carried it, waiting for the right moment.
Selene clutched it to her chest, silver eyes shining with gratitude and grief. "Why?" she whispered again, softer this time.
Ragnar turned his gaze to the horizon. "Because not everything should be lost."
Her lips trembled. She wanted to speak, to tell him what that meant to her, but no words came. Instead, she simply sat there, necklace pressed to her heart, chains silent for once.
The others stirred awake gradually. Kael stretched silently, eyes still sharp. Dax groaned about his ribs again. Ruin wordlessly passed around dried rations. Life went on, as it always did, but Selene's heart remained caught in that one fragile moment.
For the first time since her curse had taken hold, she felt something like hope.
And though Ragnar would never admit it, as he stood there with the morning light painting his scarred face, he felt the same