Stefan and Matthias were ambushed on their way back to the village after picking up supplies. Three men, dressed in charcoal gray, stepped out from behind a boulder, their faces pale under the shadow of their hoods. One grabbed Stefan by the wrists and yanked him back.

He barely had time to react, his eyes widening not in fear, but in rage. Stefan was not a man easily cowed. He fought back, managing to free one of his arms and drive his elbow into the man holding him.

But there were still two more, and they lunged forward, one slashing his blade across Stefan’s ribs. It all happened so soon. Matthias just stood there, frozen in shock, as he watched the blood begin to spill.

Stefan staggered, dropping to one knee, and the three men, startled by their own violence, fled. They hadn’t come to kill—at least, not so quickly. They weren’t prepared for the kind of death that lingered, the kind that haunted.

“Astrid…” Stefan uttered, his hand over the wound, blood seeping through the cracks of his fingers. “Protect Astrid.”

Matthias watched in horror. He wanted to save him, he did, but he knew there was no point and that he had to get back to warn the others.

He ran, golden hair blowing in the wind, heart pounding. He didn’t know where to go first or who to tell. Ultimately, he found himself at the school, out of breath as he pushed open the classroom door.

There she was, Astrid Hagen. Nine years old and completely unaware that her world had just shattered.

The teacher noticed Matthias’s presence and excused herself from the class, stepping into the hallway. “What’s the matter?” She asked.

“It’s Stefan. He’s dead.” Matthias’s words came out cold and detached. “You need to tell the girl.”

A gasp escaped the teacher’s lips. She was not usually phased by news of death, but this wasn’t any ordinary death. This was the death of their leader—the man who had led hundreds of innocents from destroyed villages, who had saved them. The man who created a safe haven, hunted food, and built houses brick by brick.

The man who had delivered Astrid into the world, dug her mother’s grave, saluted her father, and raised her as his own.

This wasn’t just about telling a little girl she was once again an orphan. It was about telling an entire village that they were, once again, back where they thought they had escaped from.

“No…” The teacher whispered. “_You_ need to tell her.”

Matthias swallowed hard as the door to the classroom opened again, and Astrid stepped out. She smiled at first, but as her eyes met his, the smile faded. She already knew. Deep down, she knew.

||*||

The sky was dull, the sun buried beneath thick clouds. Inside the cabin, it was cold. The door creaked open, and a man stepped inside with three eggs, a bucket of milk, and an armful of firewood.

He wasn’t in a hurry. The day was like any other—or so it seemed. He moved toward the fireplace, setting up the wood before starting the fire. Then, he pulled out a pan, cracked the eggs, and set them to cook.

“Breakfast!” He shouted over his shoulder.

Like clockwork, a girl appeared and sat in a seat by the fire. “What’s the schedule today?” She asked. “I was thinking we could work on archery again.”

The man didn’t answer. He didn’t even glance up as he scraped the eggs from the pan onto a small wooden plate, filled a tin cup with milk, and handed it to her.

“Eat.” He said.

She didn’t move. “I want to work on archery.”

“Eat, Astrid.” He said again. “You can know how to wield any weapon in the world, but if you starve, you die.”

She sighed, rolling her eyes, and grabbed a handful of eggs, stuffing them into her mouth. She glared at him as she chewed.

“Good.” He muttered, reaching for his canteen and taking a long swig. “Choking is another way to die.”

Astrid wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Drinking’s another way to die.” She said.

Matthias chuckled softly. “That’s why you should never do it.”

“It’s gross, anyway.” Astrid replied. “I took a sip once, when you were asleep.”

Before Matthias could scold her, there was a knock. It came like thunder. His hand instinctively reached under the table for his gun.

“Go to your room.” He ordered.

Astrid nodded and left. Matthias stood, slowly walking to the door. There was another knock. Whoever was out there wasn’t leaving.

He yanked the door open, gun raised, eyes scanning the surroundings—but there was no one there. Just the emptiness of the woods, the trees swaying gently in the wind.

He stepped out, his boots crunching against the dead leaves, and took a step forward.

A noise came from behind him.

There wasn’t enough time to turn before something heavy hit him in the back of the head, sending him to the ground. Dazed, he tried to push himself up, but two hands grabbed him and pulled him back down.

He struggled but managed to throw his attacker off him and fire a shot. The attacker let out a grunt and stumbled back, but there were more. Too many more.

Matthias kicked one in the groin, and hit another in the face with the gun. But one more came at him with a knife, and it was almost over until a loud _wooosh_ cut through the air. Suddenly, the man with the knife fell to the ground, an arrow in his neck.

Matthias looked over to see Astrid standing in the doorway, bow in hand.

“Nice shot.” He said, smiling proudly.

“One shot.” She smiled back and let another arrow fly, striking another.

“That’s the last of them.” He said, holding the back of his head in pain.

Astrid looked around and noticed a figure emerging from the woods. “No, there’s more.” She whispered.

Matthias lifted his gun, prepared to shoot, but something stopped him. “Stefan…?” He mumbled.

It was him. He looked slightly older and his hair was longer, but it was him.

Matthias lowered his gun.

Stefan didn’t pay him any attention at first, his gaze locked on Astrid. “I asked you to protect her,” He said, “not train her and turn her into a killer.”

“Her training will protect her.”

He wasn’t angry. He couldn’t be.

“Dad?” Astrid ran to Stefan and wrapped her arms around him. “You came back!”

He held her tightly. “Yes. Yes, of course I did.”

“How… how?” Matthias stuttered.

“After you ran… a woman found me. Kristen. She kept me alive.”

As if summoned by his words, a woman stepped out of the darkness. She smiled softly and waved. Matthias waved back.

“I know what happened at the village and why you left.. Thank you, Mat.” Stefan said, letting go of Astrid and walking over to Matthias.

“Don’t thank me.” Matthias replied. “It’s not over.”

They all knew.

“Then we end it. Now.”