The dorm room was dim, lit only by a single lantern on the far table.

  Eis had fallen asleep almost immediately after dinner — exhaustion catching up with her all at once. She lay curled under a thick blanket, breathing slow and steady, pale blond hair spilling over the pillow.

  Lira stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed tightly.

  Kael leaned against the wall, staring at Eis with a rare seriousness.

  Ronan sat in the corner chair, sharpening his blade quietly, the rhythmic scrape of metal the only sound for several long moments.

  Lira exhaled first.

  “…She shouldn’t have had to deal with that alone.”

  Kael nodded, jaw clenched.

  “I know. I know.”

  Ronan didn’t look up from his blade.

  “She handled it.”

  “That’s not the point,” Lira said sharply, then caught herself and softened her tone.

  “She shouldn’t have been targeted in the first place.”

  Kael pushed off the wall, pacing once.

  “They were slaver-connected trash. We all know the rumors. But for them to target her—”

  He stopped, running a hand through his hair.

  “—it pisses me off more than usual.”

  Lira’s eyes stayed on Eis—small, peaceful, unaware of the storm she’d walked through.

  “She didn’t even flinch telling us what happened,” Lira murmured.

  “Just… laid it out. Like recounting a weather report.”

  Kael swallowed.

  “That’s what gets me.”

  Ronan finally set his whetstone down.

  “She’s used to worse.”

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Lira looked at him.

  “…You think so?”

  Ronan nodded once, slow and deliberate.

  Kael grimaced.

  “Yeah. I could tell too. She didn’t react like someone shocked by cruelty. She reacted like someone who’s seen it a hundred times.”

  Lira’s shoulders slumped, heavy with sympathy.

  “She’s so gentle, though. I honestly forgot she saved us from bandits.”

  Ronan’s eyes softened at that.

  “Yes.”

  Kael huffed a quiet laugh.

  “Yeah, she’s soft. But you put a blade in her hand… she turns into something else entirely.”

  They all glanced at Eis sleeping.

  Lira stepped closer, brushing a stray hair away from Eis’s face with careful fingers.

  “She acts like she’s used to taking care of herself. Like depending on others isn’t something she even considers.”

  Kael leaned his back against the wall again.

  “…We need to change that.”

  Ronan looked between them.

  “She’s strong. Stronger than we thought. Maybe stronger than us.”

  He didn’t say it with jealousy — only truth.

  Lira nodded.

  “Which means she’s been fighting alone for a long time.”

  Kael let out a breath through his nose.

  “Not anymore.”

  They all looked at Eis again — small, quiet, breathing softly.

  Wrapped in a blanket she hadn’t asked for.

  Under a roof she didn’t think she deserved.

  Surrounded by people she didn’t realize cared for her this deeply already.

  Lira spoke first, voice barely above a whisper.

  “From now on, she’s not facing anything alone.”

  Kael rested his hand on the back of the chair.

  “Yeah. Anyone who lays a hand on her…”

  His tone darkened.

  “I won’t need to hold back.”

  Ronan didn’t speak immediately.

  Then:

  “…We protect her,” he said simply.

  “Even if she doesn’t think she needs it.”

  Lira smiled softly.

  Kael nodded.

  And the three of them — Team Argent — stood watch over Eis in silence.

  A silent promise forming in the warm, lamplit room:

  She saved herself today.

  But tomorrow,

  they would save her too —

  before the world ever had the chance to hurt her again.