The clearing appeared just past midday.

Small. Sheltered on three sides by a rise in the land that hid them from the road. A thin stream cut through the eastern edge, its water running clear over smooth stones.

Tess raised her hand.

The group stopped without question.

No one spoke as they dismounted. The horses stood with their heads low, sides heaving, foam crusting along their necks and chests. They'd been pushed hard. Too hard.

Adan moved to the nearest mount first, running his hand along its flank before leading it toward the stream. The others followed, their movements slow and mechanical.

Ennu guided her horse carefully, Gabriel's weight still slumped against her back. She felt Adan's hands on her waist as he steadied her, then reached up to take Gabriel from her.

"Slowly," Mera said, already moving closer.

They lowered him together, easing his body down onto a patch of dry grass near the stream. His head lolled to the side, breath coming in shallow, uneven pulls that barely moved his chest.

Mera knelt beside him immediately.

She reached for the torn fabric of his shirt, pulling it open to expose his torso. Her hands stilled.

They always did.

The scars covered him. Thick, raised lines crisscrossing his chest and abdomen, some old enough to have faded to pale silver, others still dark and angry. Burns wrapped around his ribs like fingers, the skin puckered and twisted where it had healed poorly.

And in the center of his chest, perfectly preserved, was a handprint.

Small.

Childlike.

Scorched into the flesh as if someone had pressed a burning brand there and held it until the skin gave way.

Ennu's breath caught.

She'd moved closer without realizing it, her eyes fixed on Gabriel's exposed torso. Her hand came up slowly, fingers hovering near her mouth as she stared.

"What..." she started, then stopped.

Mera's jaw tightened. She didn't look up, didn't acknowledge the question. Her hands moved over his ribs, pressing gently, checking for breaks.

Tess led her horse to the water, her movements controlled, deliberate. She didn't look back at Gabriel. Didn't need to.

She'd seen it before.

Gilbert hadn't.

He'd pushed himself up slightly against the tree, his gaze drawn to the figure lying near the stream. His eyes widened as they tracked across the scarring, the burns, the handprint that looked impossibly small against Gabriel's chest.

"Creator's mercy," he breathed.

Mera's hands pressed harder against Gabriel's ribs, her fingers careful but firm. "Three breaks," she said quietly. "Maybe four."

Her voice was steady.

Her hands weren't.

Adan watered his mount, then Ennu's, before checking their hooves for stones. He worked in silence, but his gaze drifted back to Gabriel more than once. His expression didn't change, but something shifted in his posture.

Ennu crouched slowly, her eyes still fixed on the handprint. "How did..."

"Don't," Mera cut in, her voice low and sharp.

Ennu's mouth closed.

Mera pulled the torn shirt aside further, exposing Gabriel's shoulder. The joint sat wrong, the bone displaced beneath swollen, discolored skin. She pressed her fingers against it carefully, mapping the damage.

"I need to reset this," she said.

No one moved to help.

Tess finished checking her horse's legs and walked back toward the group. She stopped a few paces from Gabriel, arms crossed, her gaze sweeping over the injuries she'd already cataloged a hundred times.

The scars didn't bother her anymore.

They had once.

Mera shifted, bracing one hand against Gabriel's chest, the other gripping his upper arm. She didn't warn him. Didn't count down.

She just pulled.

The joint popped back into place with a wet, grinding sound that made Ennu flinch. Gabriel's body jerked once, a shallow gasp tearing from his throat, but his eyes stayed closed.

Mera held him steady until the spasm passed, then released him carefully.

Her hands were shaking again.

She pulled them back, pressing them against her thighs as she sat on her heels. Her breathing had gone shallow, quick, like she couldn't get enough air.

Gilbert's gaze hadn't left Gabriel. "Who did that to him?"

The question hung in the air.

Mera didn't answer. She reached for the cloth and began tearing it into strips, her movements mechanical.

"Mera," Gilbert pressed.

"Drop it," Tess said flatly.

Gilbert's jaw worked, but he fell silent.

Ennu sat on a flat stone near the edge of the clearing, her arms wrapped around her knees. Her eyes stayed on Gabriel, on the handprint that looked like it had been burned into him deliberately.

She felt sick.

Mera wrapped the strips around Gabriel's ribs, binding them tight. Her hands moved with practiced efficiency, but her gaze kept drifting back to the handprint. As though she was being lured to it

It was always the handprint.

She'd asked once.

Gabriel hadn't answered.

She hadn't asked again.

Gilbert's voice cut through the quiet. "He held the gate."

Everyone looked at him.

His gaze was fixed on the ground. "Hanitz. He held the gate long enough for us to get out."

The name hung in the air.

No one responded.

Tess's jaw tightened. Her hands pressed harder against the ground.

Ennu stared at the stream, her breathing shallow, uneven.

Mera's hands dropped to her lap. She looked down at them, at the faint tremor still running through her fingers.

"He knew," she said quietly. "He planned everything."

Gilbert swallowed hard. His hand moved to his ribs, pressing against them.

Tess opened her eyes. She stared up at the canopy overhead.

"We left him," she said.

The words were flat. Emotionless.

But the weight behind them was crushing.

"We didn't have a choice," Ennu replied, her voice quiet.

"Doesn't matter."

Silence fell again.

Heavier this time.

Mera turned her head away, her gaze fixed on Gabriel's face. She reached out and brushed a strand of blood-matted hair from his forehead.

Her eyes dropped to the handprint again.

Small.

Burned deep.

Permanent.

She pulled her hand back and looked away.

"He saved him," she said softly.

No one answered.

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