**Boom! Boom! Boom!**

The world is chaos. Smoke clogs the air, screams echo through the town square, and my knees feel weak beneath me. I clutch Xavier to my chest, gripping him like he’s the only solid thing left. Because everything else—everything I knew—has just been ripped away.

I can’t take my eyes off the body on the cobblestones. My uncle. The man who raised me. The man who kept me and Xavier alive when no one else would.

His blood seeps into the cracks of the stone, dark red against gray. The metallic scent fills my nose, and my stomach churns.

This isn’t happening.

“Asher,” Xavier’s voice is small, trembling. “Is he…?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, pressing my little brother’s face into my chest before he can see too much. “Don’t look,” I whisper, my voice hollow. “Just keep your eyes closed.”

Heavy boots crunch against stone. A figure steps toward us, silver armor gleaming. Even without looking, I know who they are. The Silver Guard. The royal enforcers. The ones who decide who lives and who doesn’t.

A sharp voice cuts through the chaos. “Leave. Now. This does not concern you.”

My head snaps up, fury flooding my veins. My grief has no place to go, so it turns to anger instead. I meet a pair of piercing gray eyes—ones I recognize, though I wish I didn’t.

Her.

I’ve seen her before. Not often, but enough. On the edges of the city, patrolling the markets, standing at the gates like an unmovable shadow. I never knew her name, but I knew her face. And I always got the feeling she knew mine.

“The man you just—” my voice cracks, but I don’t stop. “He was my uncle.”

She doesn’t flinch. Just studies me, her expression carefully blank. But then—too quick for anyone else to notice—her gaze flickers to Xavier. A flicker of hesitation.

Then, without a word, she removes her helmet.

I don’t know what I expected, but it still makes my breath catch. The blonde hair falling past her shoulders, the scar running down her throat—it’s too much of a contrast. She looks like she belongs in a palace, not on a battlefield. And yet, here she is.

She glances at my uncle’s still form, then back at me. “What’s your name?”

I hesitate. But in all chaos, there is calculation. I don’t trust her. I can’t.

But I answer anyway. “Asher.” My voice is raw. “And this is my brother.”

She holds my stare for a long moment. Then, almost reluctantly, she exhales through her nose. “Asher,” she repeats, like she already knew.

Then, quieter, she says, “You need to leave. Now. Before the others come.”

I narrow my eyes. “Why do you care?”

Her jaw tightens, but there’s something else beneath it. Something unreadable. “I don’t,” she says. But I don’t believe her.

The sounds of chaos swirl around us—guards shouting, the shuffle of terrified civilians. I should run. Take Xavier and disappear before I get myself killed.

But I hesitate.

Because this moment—it feels important.

Her gray eyes lock onto mine, and for a second, I think she might say something else. But then her expression hardens. “Go.”

Xavier stirs against me, and reality slams back into place.

I take a slow step back, then another. She doesn’t stop me.

And just before I turn to leave, I catch her watching me. Her gaze lingers for a second too long.

Then I run.