CHAPTER 107: ROADS CONVERGE

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At first gray light the camp looked stripped but purposeful. Lean-to canvas rolled. Racks folded and tied. Smolder pits are buried. Only glassy scorch marks bore witness to two C-rank beast Tamer tombs.

Zephyr double-checked cart braces; the wagon creaked airy and light. Muse pawed the ground, jittery with surplus energy—she hadn’t hauled an empty cart like this in two weeks.

"Ready, war-cow?" Zephyr asked.

Muse flicked her ear, she meant, "faster than you."

Aurora perched on the shaft, wings fluttering in the dawn breeze, plumage still flecked with obsidian glass. Fenna mounted the driver bench, bow across her back, eyes scanning the treeline for any last minute beast attack.

Star loped alongside, tail swishing like a banner of molten promise.

Zephyr climbed up beside Fenna. He squeezed her hand once. It was steady, grounding. She squeezed back.

"Route?" she asked.

"Old guild road to Emberfall city Gate, then west river ferry. One day if we push without stopping."

"Ayan’s spies?"

"I’ll set trip nets. And we’re fifty kilos lighter than when we came for training." He smirked. "Thanks for the storage skill."

"Thank you." She leaned with a quick kiss at the corner of his mouth, then flicked the reins. "Walk on, Muse."

The cow surged forward with almost theatrical pep, bell chiming upbeat notes that echoed through ember lit trunks. Cart wheels rattled over rocky pebbles, unsloaded yet filled with invisible bounty. Phoenix cheeped, dragon huffed, lovers smiled.

They rolled out of the crater, heading toward Free City’s distant spires—toward a duel, toward vengeance, toward whatever awaited on the far side of victory.

Behind them, the empty racks, buried fires, and melted crest signaled the end of one Chapter and the forging of another. Emberwood forest whispered farewell in rustling cinder leaves.

Zephyr inhaled the crisp morning, future humming inside his secret vault, beside salted meat and silent cores.

"Lightened loads," he thought, glancing at Fenna’s determined profile. "Ready hearts."

The road stretched, sun climbing, hooves drumming a steady cadence toward destiny.

Mid morning haze shimmered off glazed pebbles as Muse trotted along the free guild mark highway, bell chiming a jaunty cadence. Though the cart felt empty to her shoulders, the cow still performed the occasional theatrical groan. It reminded everyone that dignity, once bruised, demanded constant tribute.

Star padded thirty strides ahead, tail sweeping dust, nostrils sampling every new thermal. His silhouette sent smaller ember hares scattering into brush. Aurora zig zagged overhead, testing her rebalanced wings; glowing flecks traced lazy comets behind every toss of plumage.

Zephyr guided from the driver bench, reins slack. Fenna perched beside him, bow and arrow across her thighs. Her thigh wound was healed. The road bent west through low cinder hills; beyond rose a necklace of watchtowers. Ember Gate’s outer ring and the halfway mark to Free City.

"You look lighter each league," Fenna teased, elbowing him.

"That’s because I’m storing half a city’s larder in my pocket," Zephyr answered. A grin tugged her lips; the secret still tasted new and sweet between them.

A ghost of wind —sulfur-cool— pried strands of her ash covered hair across his neck. He inhaled cinders and phoenix scent and believed, fleetingly, that nothing grim could find them on this bright day.

A crow screeched overhead— three short bursts, oddly rhythmic. Star slowed, pivoting toward the roadside outcrop. Zephyr tensed, hand drifting to dagger handle.

Fenna squinted down the slope. Two riders approached from a parallel game trail: a tall boy in travel leathers astride a brindled ember elk, and beside him a slender girl whose chestnut mare carried double sacks of herbs. At forty paces the pair reined in, faces blooming with recognition.

"Luke!" Fenna’s voice cracked with surprise. She leapt down.

Zephyr blinked, then laughed as the memory snapped into place: the expectant hearted merchant siblings who’d shared a sky nest lookout months earlier, and Mira, the green mantle sister of luke laugh that popped like fire seed pods. They’d parted before reaching the Ember Toll Range, promising reunion of fate allowed it.

Mira swung down and enveloped Fenna in a careful hug, mindful of her boundaries. "Storm-eyes sister Fenna, still smashing bullies?"

"Trying," she replied, face on her shoulder. When they parted, Fenna clasped Mira’s arm— she noted new strength in the merchant grip, fresh scars across knuckles.

Luke dismounted, copper braids clinking with tiny glass vials. He offered Zephyr a gentle punch to the arm. "Rumor said you were slicing through Emberfall arena like hot wire."

"Rumor exaggerates," Fenna said.

"That part true?" Mira’s gaze flicked upward to Aurora spiraling overhead.

Aurora, delighted at attention, arrow-dove and landed on Fenna’s shoulder, chirping a proud descendant trill.

Luke let out an impressive whistle, seeing Star’s new look. "Last time he fit inside a tea cup."

"Long story," Zephyr chuckled.

Muse ambled forward, sniffing Luke’s elk, then Mira’s mare, then giving the herb sacks an evaluating lick. Mira smacked the cow’s muzzle lightly. "No chewing."

Star stepped between animals, rumbling a warning; Luke’s elk lowered its rune etched antlers but didn’t spook. Mira patted Star’s flank, heat shimmering under her palm. "You’ve grown so big, little tyrant."

"Two meters and counting," Zephyr said. "And still hungry."

Luke’s gaze sharpened. "We were in the city yesterday... I heard you got a duel with someone named Ayan in three days. Rumor again?"

"Not a rumor," Fenna muttered. "It’s real, now only two days left."

Mira’s eyes widened. "Then we ride with you. Roads aren’t kind to duelists targeted by jealous suitors. We want to see the battle."

Zephyr frowned. "Have you heard of attacks?"

Luke nodded. "Guild boards buzz. Mercenaries boasting they’re on the ’Phoenix guild Contract.’ We left the city to gather herbs before someone overheard my surname and roped me in."

Mira added, "That guy is famous. Almost everyone knows about the duel. It’s because a city wife gossip. His family is rich. You must be careful."

Zephyr’s stomach turned. " He hired some rogue before the duel. We burned the last batch, maybe he’ll send bigger ones."

Both the siblings were shocked hearing that.

"Strength in numbers, then," Luke said with finality.

Fenna touched Zephyr’s elbow in silent agreement.

They chose a shale shelf above a sulphur stream for lunch. Muse grazed on mineral moss, blissful. Mira unpacked a satchel of some blue leaf biscuits; Luke brewed charfruit tea while Zephyr used his storage to retrieve perfectly cooled gazelle steaks. The act drew wide eyes.

Mira whispered, "Spatial compression? Vault?"

"Trade secret," Zephyr replied with a wink. She accepted that with a grin of professional envy.

Conversation drifted: Luke had volunteered at a front-line plague ward; Mira collected ember-thistle to brew coagulant draughts; they’d planned to wed come first frost festival. Fenna listened, smile grateful but tinged with wistfulness.

"You two?" Luke asked eventually, nodding at Fenna nestled against Zephyr’s side.

Fenna glanced at Zephyr before answering. "Partners in battle, cart, heart. Official definition pending."

Zephyr squeezed her hip. "Scribbled it in ink, just didn’t file the paperwork."

Mira clapped softly. "I know you two were together."

Aurora flitted between the couples, dropping stray feathers like celebratory confetti. Star exhaled in amused steam.

But joy dimmed when Fenna described the rogue ambush, her wound, Aurora’s core eating in rage. Luke’s gaze darkened; Mira’s fingers tightened around her mug.

"C-rank mercs are bad enough," Mira said. "What if he buys B-rank?" Fear trembled behind sarcasm.

Zephyr answered, voice level. "Then we burn bigger."

Luke studied him for a moment. "Kindness almost costs you. Will you slice their throat next time?"

Zephyr’s jaw flexed. "Mercy is earned now."

Silence settled, broken by Muse ripping moss with a wet tearing sound.

They pressed west until dusk, then camped within sight of Ember-Gate’s outer torch towers, it was massive basalt columns caged in bronze, each fueled by perpetual flame quartz. Soldiers paced catwalks; the gate toll bell chimed every quarter-hour.

Luke and Mira insisted on sharing the night watch, arguing their beasts needed discipline. Luke’s elk —named Crown— patrolled the perimeter, antlers flickering with rune wards. Mira’s mare carried scent decoy bundles to mask Star’s thermal output.

Meanwhile Fenna and Zephyr ran last moment drills, now with audience:

Fenna + Aurora: flash-dip, double arrow, high vanish.

Zephyr + Star: spearing feint, Rapid Fireball, tail trip.

Luke’s elk practiced shield-wall horns; Mira’s mare stomped out burning weeds.

Muse supervised from a rock, chewing cud like a tactician.

After drills Luke produced a slender flute, played a melancholy tune that drifted through torchlight. Mira hummed harmony. Aurora added soft chirp accompaniment; even Star lowered his head, eyes half lidded, listening.

Fenna rested against Zephyr, exhaustion melting to calm. She whispered, "I hated some lullabies as a child. This one feels good."

Zephyr kissed her hairline. "Because it’s played by the family."

Later, while Mira cleaned scalpels and Luke vaccinated Crown with anti-frost serum, Zephyr lingered by the fire, turning a small steel token —Ayan’s sent rogue melted crest— between fingers. Fenna dropped beside him.

"I keep picturing him smirking in those gold cuffs," she said.