The camp was silent except for the fire.

Gabriel sat with his back against a tree, watching the flames. His companions spread around him in a loose circle. Mera tended a shallow cut on Ennu's arm. Gilbert sharpened his spear, the rhythmic scrape of stone on metal steady and familiar. Adan stood watch at the treeline, scanning the darkness.

Tess sat close to Gabriel. Not touching, but close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her.

No one had spoken since they'd made camp two hours ago.

Gabriel's hand moved to the hilt of his sword. Not drawing it, just needing the familiar grip.

"We should talk about what happened," Tess said quietly.

Gilbert's whetstone paused. Mera's hands stilled. Adan didn't turn from his watch, but his shoulders tensed.

Gabriel didn't respond immediately. He watched the fire, tracking the patterns in the flames.

The red smoke spreading like fog. Her soldiers standing perfectly still. Those crimson eyes that mirrored his own.

"She let us go." Mera finished tying the bandage. "Why would she do that?"

"She wanted him to see her power." Adan's voice carried from the darkness. "Wanted him to know he can't fight her. Not yet."

Tess shifted beside Gabriel. "She said there's going to be a war. That the Seven will hunt down anyone with Dracamerian blood."

"She's building an army," Gilbert said. He resumed sharpening, the sound louder in the quiet. "Multi-racial forces. That doesn't happen by accident."

Gabriel finally spoke. "She wants me to join her."

The words settled over the group like snow.

"Will you?" Ennu asked. Her voice was soft, but the question cut deep.

Gabriel's jaw tightened. "No."

"But she's right, isn't she?" Mera leaned forward, firelight catching in her eyes. "The Church will come for you. The Seven will come. You'll need allies when that happens."

"Not her." Gabriel's tone left no room for argument. "I won't fight her war."

Tess touched his arm. Just her fingers against his sleeve, light and careful. "Then what do we do?"

Gabriel was quiet for a long moment. The fire cracked. Somewhere in the forest, an owl called.

"We stick to the plan," he said finally. "Isle of Giants. Learn what we can about the Dracamerians. About the Order. About how to fight Archangels if we have to." He looked at each of them. "Then we hunt the Order down and break them."

"And when Ariya comes back?" Gilbert asked.

"We deal with it then."

Mera's expression shifted. Something flickered across her face, too quick to read in the firelight. "The Maker sent you to us for a reason. What happened at that camp... that power she showed..." She shook her head. "You're meant for more than running."

Gabriel turned to look at her fully. "I'm meant for whatever I choose."

The tension in those words made Tess's hand tighten on his arm.

Mera held his gaze, then looked away. "Of course."

But something in her voice had changed.

Adan broke the silence. "We should move at first light. Put distance between us and that camp."

"Agreed." Gabriel stood. "Kelmar's six days northeast. We resupply there, book passage to the Isle of Giants."

"How long is the voyage?" Tess stood with him.

"Three weeks, give or take." Gabriel's hand moved unconsciously to where the book sat hidden in his pack. "Long enough to train. To prepare."

Gilbert drove his spear into the ground. "I'll take first watch with Adan."

"I'll relieve you in four hours," Tess said.

The group began settling in. Bedrolls spread around the fire. Packs positioned within easy reach. Weapons kept close.

Gabriel moved to his own bedroll but didn't lie down. He stared into the fire.

We're the same now, Gabriel. The last of our people.

His jaw clenched.

They weren't the same. She'd chosen to serve the Order. To work with them. To become whatever she was now through willing participation.

He'd been broken and rebuilt without consent.

The difference mattered.

Tess appeared beside him, her own bedroll in hand. She laid it out next to his without asking.

"You should rest," she said quietly. "Tomorrow's a long walk."

Gabriel finally lowered himself to his bedroll. The ground was hard beneath him, roots pressing into his back. The fire's warmth barely reached this far.

Tess lay down facing him. Her eyes caught the firelight, reflecting it back in amber and gold.

"Thank you," Gabriel said.

"For what?"

"For coming after me in Galveston. For waiting in Kelmar. For..." He trailed off. "For staying."

Tess's expression softened. "Where else would I be?"

They lay in silence. The fire burned lower. Gilbert and Adan's quiet conversation drifted over from the treeline.

"Gabriel?" Tess's voice was barely a whisper.

"Yeah?"

"What Ariya said about the Seven coming... is she right?"

Gabriel stared up through the trees at the stars. Cold and distant and indifferent.

"Probably."

"Then we'll face it together."

He turned his head to look at her. "This isn't your fight."

"It became my fight the moment I decided it was." Tess reached out and took his hand. Her fingers threaded through his, warm and solid and real. "You don't get to protect me from my own choices."

Gabriel squeezed her hand. Held on like she might disappear if he let go.

"Get some sleep," Tess said. "We've got a long road ahead."

She closed her eyes but didn't release his hand.

Gabriel lay awake for another hour, watching the stars wheel overhead. Too many pieces moving. Too many unknowns.

Ariya's army. The Order's remaining forces. The mysterious woman in the fog who kept leaving bodies.

And somewhere beyond it all, the Seven Archangels who'd slaughtered his ancestors.

Sleep came eventually, but it was thin and restless.

He dreamed of red smoke and burning temples.

...

Dawn broke grey and cold.

Gabriel woke to Adan shaking his shoulder. "Movement in the trees. Half a mile south."

Gabriel was on his feet before the words fully registered. His hand found his sword hilt. "How many?"

"Can't tell. Could be an animal." Adan's expression suggested he didn't believe that. "But it's moving parallel to our position."

The rest of the camp stirred. Tess already had her blade drawn. Gilbert gripped his spear, eyes scanning the southern treeline. Mera stood near Ennu, one hand inside her pack where she kept her potions.

Gabriel's senses extended outward. Listening. Feeling the air.

Nothing.

No pressure in his chest. No warning in his gut.

That bothers me more than if I'd felt something.

"Pack up," Gabriel said quietly. "We move now."

No one argued. They broke camp in minutes. Bedrolls stuffed into packs, fire kicked apart and scattered. The group moved northeast through the forest, putting distance between themselves and whatever Adan had heard.

Gabriel took point. His eyes swept the terrain, cataloging escape routes and defensive positions.

The forest was too quiet.

No birdsong. No rustling in the undergrowth. Just the soft crunch of their boots on frost-covered leaves and the faint whisper of wind through bare branches.

After an hour, Gilbert spoke. "Whatever it was, we lost it."

Gabriel didn't slow. "Maybe."

They walked until midday before stopping to rest. A small clearing beside a half-frozen stream gave them clean water and sight lines in all directions.

Mera distributed dried meat and hard bread. No one spoke much while they ate.

Gabriel sat apart from the group, his back against a boulder. He pulled out the book, studying its worn leather cover. No writing on the outside. No decoration. Just old leather and older binding.

His thumb traced the edge. He could feel the weight of what was inside.

But using it required blood.

And every time he fed it, he saw things that changed him.

"May I?" Mera's voice made him look up.

She stood a few feet away, her expression careful. Respectful.

Gabriel hesitated, then held out the book.

Mera took it with both hands, reverently. She ran her fingers over the cover the same way he had.

"It's quiet now," she said softly. "But I can feel it. Waiting."

"Waiting for what?"

"For you to need it." Mera looked up, meeting his eyes. "The Maker works in mysterious ways. Perhaps this book is part of His plan for you."

Gabriel took the book back. "Or perhaps it's just a book."

"Nothing about you is just anything." Mera's smile was strange. Not quite right. "You saved me three years ago. Appeared from nowhere like an answer to prayer. Killed those bandits without hesitation, without mercy." Her voice dropped. "You were magnificent."

The intensity in her words made Gabriel's skin crawl.

"I was hunting criminals," he said flatly. "Nothing magnificent about it."

"You're too modest." Mera reached out like she might touch his face, then seemed to think better of it. "One day you'll see yourself the way I see you. The way the Maker sees you."

She turned and walked back to the others before Gabriel could respond.

He watched her go, unease settling in his gut.

Tess caught his eye from across the clearing. Her expression asked a silent question.

Gabriel shook his head slightly. Not here. Not now.

But they'd need to talk about Mera soon.

The group rested for another hour before continuing northeast. The terrain grew rougher as they climbed into the foothills. Rocky ground, sparse trees, wind that cut through their cloaks.

By evening, they'd covered nearly fifteen miles.

They made camp in a sheltered hollow between two hills. Just enough protection from the wind to keep a fire going.

Gabriel volunteered for first watch. He needed time alone to think.

The others settled in around the fire. Gilbert told a story about a drunk adventurer and a very angry chicken. Even Adan cracked a smile.

Gabriel climbed to the top of the southern hill, where he could see the land they'd crossed. Dark forest stretching for miles. No signs of pursuit. No fires. No movement.

Just emptiness.

He sat on a flat rock and let the cold seep into his bones. The discomfort helped him focus.

You'll need every one of us we can find.

As if he had a responsibility to other Dracamerians. As if shared blood created obligation.

But he didn't even know if there were others. The bloodline had been diluted over centuries.

And those the Order had found... they'd been tortured into weapons. Broken and rebuilt.

Gabriel's hand moved to his chest, feeling the scars beneath his shirt. The twisted flesh where Ariya had carved sigils. The small burned handprint near his heart.

The Order hadn't made him stronger.

They'd just removed the parts that let him pretend to be normal.

Movement in the valley below caught his eye.

Gabriel went still. His hand drifted to his sword.

A figure moved through the trees. Too far away to make out details, but the gait was wrong. Too smooth. Too fluid.

Not human.

Or not entirely human.

The figure stopped at the edge of the forest, half a mile distant. It stood perfectly motionless, as if sensing Gabriel watching.

Then it turned and melted back into the darkness.

Gabriel's danger sense remained silent.

He waited another hour, but the figure didn't reappear.

When Tess came to relieve him, he didn't mention it.

Some things I need to understand on my own first.

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