During Ryke's and Darmian's clash , Sherlyn waited in the black carriage with two horses , which was a testament to Leon's wealth . The carriage stood at the corner of a weapons shop, its wheels creaking softly whenever the horses shifted. She watched every passerby, her impatience taut as a bowstring—like a child waiting for her parents in an unfamiliar place.

  The left door opened. Sherlyn’s hand shot to the knife she’d stolen from the brothel, but her grip loosened the instant her brother climbed in. She threw her arms around him, clutching him fiercely.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you,” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  Karl returned the embrace with surprising strength despite the scars that marred his body. “It wasn’t your fault. We were all too young.”

  “Look at what they did to you…” Sherlyn whispered, her hand tracing the marks from his head down to his arms, her grip tightening with each scar. Yet beneath her sorrow, a fragile smile broke through. Relief. He was here, finally.

  “You’ll walk me through everything,” she said firmly. “But first, you rest.”

  Ryke arrived at the safe house, his body dragging with pain and exhaustion. Sherlyn stood the moment she saw him, her reaction almost like a wife welcoming her husband from war. She crept closer, careful but determined.

  “Don’t—” Ryke tried to wave her off, but his strength faltered.

  Sherlyn wrapped her hands around him, steadying his steps. “Let me help you. This might be the only chance I get,” she said, guiding him inside.

  The safe house was plain—three rooms, a dining area, nothing more. “Not much of a place,” Ryke muttered.

  “We’ve already freshened up . When you’re ready, we’ll wait in the dining room,” Sherlyn told him.

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  “That won’t be necessary.” His voice was sharp, though wearied. “Leave my food by the door. We leave at dawn.” He shut himself away in one of the rooms.

  Later, Karl sat with his sister at the table. His expression shifted suddenly, his voice hollow. "Clara , She's gone .”

  Sherlyn’s eyes dropped. “I know. No one told me—I had to piece it together. By the time I did…”

  “The time for mourning has already passed,” Karl finished while looking at Sherlyn who had a hand covering her mouth.

  Sherlyn forced herself to nod, her voice trembling. “I bet she’s happy now, wherever she is.” She gathered the plates with stiff movements and retreated to her room.

  Karl lingered, alone with his thoughts. It’s been too long, he mused, a tear of joy blurring one eye, a tear of sorrow staining the other.

  That same afternoon , far across Zurehn, two figures slipped quietly through one of its perilous forests.

  The girl led, her face half-covered by a white cloth. She was of almost average height, light complexion, clothed in a knee-length blue skirt and a black vest-like shirt.

  The boy followed, brown-skinned, taller, dressed all in black. His build was average, his stride steady.

  “We’re here,” the girl announced as a small wooden house came into view.

  “Just like Jack described,” the boy said. He pushed the door open. “Sky, come look.”

  Inside, a body lay still.

  “Should we help her?” Sky asked, her gaze locked on the girl’s frail form.

  “She’s young. Let’s at least try,” Ben replied.

  “What if she retaliates?” Sky pressed, pulling down her cloth to reveal her face.

  Ben crouched, studying the body. “In this state? She’s harmless. Tend to her—I’ll fetch water.”

  “Ben—be careful. We don’t know this place yet,” Sky called after him. He only raised a hand in reply as he closed the door.

  Sky knelt beside the girl, stripping away bloodied clothes to clean the wounds. Her breath caught. “She’s worse than I thought,” she muttered, working quickly with what herbs and medicines she had left.

  By the time Ben returned with two buckets, Sky was wringing out cloth soaked blue with blood and salve.

  “You’re done?” Ben asked, setting the buckets down.

  “Barely. And I’ve used up everything we had.” She noticed a stain on his finger. “What happened there?”

  “Oh, that,” Ben said casually. “I found a black cub by the river. Tried petting it. My finger brushed its teeth.”

  “And you felt nothing? No pain?” Sky asked, narrowing her eyes.

  “Just dizziness. I’m fine,” Ben said with a shrug, sitting down.

  Sky frowned but let it go. “Fine. We've got firewood for tonight, let's cook before it's too dark "

  Sky cooked what little she had , enough to keep them through the night, before settling in to wait.

  It took two full days before the girl stirred.

  " How... am I still alive? " she whispered disappointment lacing every word.

  It took time for her to gather little strength to start moving, during the period she couldn't, she stirred at the ceiling which was powered by a magic lamp

  She dragged herself upright, her body bare and frail, and reached for her clothes folded in the corner. Each movement was agony, but curiosity overpowered pain. She dressed clumsily, then leaned against the wall, inching toward the door.

  It wasn’t far, yet every step felt like crossing a battlefield. She pushed the door open, staggered outside—then collapsed face-first.

  Just as she was about to hit the ground, Ben arrived quickly grabbing her shirt.

  “Easy,” he said softly, steadying her. “You’re safe now.”