The fire had burned down low.
Outside, the wind whispered through the trees, rattling the loose boards of the Ashen Hollow. The chill still clung to Delwyn's skin, but at least now, it was bearable.
She flexed her fingers, rolled her wrists - rolling out the stiffness in her shoulders. The exhaustion was there, heavy and insistent, but she ignored it.
Vaelor had gone quiet, sitting across from her, his dagger still in his grip. Not out of caution—out of habit. He was one of those warriors who never truly rested, even when he was still.
Delwyn hated to admit it, but she understood that.
She leaned her head back against the rotting wall, staring up at the rafters. Exhaled. "Alright. You went through all that trouble of pulling me off the chopping block—so what's the plan?"
Vaelor didn't answer immediately. He glanced at the fire, as if considering whether she had earned the full truth. Then, he sighed.
"There's a rebellion forming," he said. "You know that much."
Delwyn arched a brow. "Not much of a rebellion if it was just, you out there."
"That was the start of rebellion." Vaelor flicked his dagger absently between his fingers. "That was me acting before they did something stupid."
Delwyn smirked. "So, they weren't coming for me?"
"They debated it," he admitted. "I decided to act before they could waste time deciding."
She studied him. "You don't take orders well, do you?"
A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Not anymore."
Delwyn exhaled, rubbing her temples. "Alright. There's a rebellion. What does that have to do with me?"
Vaelor leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharp. "Because they need you."
She scoffed. "I doubt that."
"I don't." His voice was steady, unshaken. "You were closer to Galborn than anyone. You know how he thinks, how he moves. You know his strengths—and his weaknesses."
Delwyn stared at him. "If I knew his weaknesses, I wouldn't have ended up in that cell."
Vaelor tilted his head. "Wouldn't you?"
She frowned.
"You had a blade at his throat," he said. "You hesitated."
Delwyn felt something in her chest tighten.
She hadn't told him that. She hadn't told anyone that.
"Why?" Vaelor continued to press.
She clenched her jaw. She didn't have an answer.
Not one she was ready to say out loud.
The silence stretched.
Vaelor sighed. "The rebellion wants to end Galborn. They just don't know how. That's where you come in."
Delwyn let out a sharp laugh. "So what? You want me to march up to the castle and try again?"
"No," Vaelor said, voice calm. "I want you to fight with me."
Her amusement faded.
"You're not a soldier anymore," he continued. "You're not his Oathkeeper. And you sure as hell aren't dead. So now you have a choice."
Delwyn exhaled slowly, staring into the dying fire.
She knew what he was saying.
If she walked away now, she could disappear. The rebellion would still fight, Vaelor would still kill, and the world would keep moving without her.
Or she could do something about it.
She could finish what she had started.
Dawn was creeping in now, the faintest glow bleeding through the cracks in the wood. The night was over.
A new day was beginning.
Delwyn rolled her shoulders, feeling the weight of the choice settle into her bones.
"Fine. Where do we start?" she asked.
Vaelor's eyes gleamed.
"I thought you'd never ask."