The carts did not stop.
Not when the sun rose.
Not when it fell.
Time stretched thin, losing meaning, marked only by the slow grind of wheels and the constant creak of strained wood. Every jolt ran through Kaelen's body, rattling his ribs, sending a dull pulse through the back of his skull where the hilt had struck him.
After a while, he stopped reacting to it.
There was no point.
His hands were bound in front of him, rope biting into his skin. He had tested it once—just enough to know it wouldn't give.
So he left it.
Around him, the others shifted in silence.
Not all from Brennfall.
He could hear it in the way they spoke. Different accents. Different ways of saying the same words. Some wore clothes finer than anything in his town. Others worse.
All of them the same now.
Dirty.
Bruised.
Taken.
"You keep staring like that," a voice said, "you'll scare someone."
Kaelen didn't look up.
"Or maybe you just don't care."
Still nothing.
A breath.
"You from Brennfall?"
That made something tighten in his chest.
"…yeah."
He didn't look.
"Thought so," the voice said. "A lot of you came through first."
Kaelen glanced up this time.
The boy across from him looked older—fifteen, maybe. Broad shoulders, dried blood along his sleeve, a split in his lip that hadn't healed clean.
"I'm Rhyen," he said.
Kaelen held his gaze for a second.
"…Kaelen."
Rhyen nodded once. "Ravik's Ford," he added, jerking his head slightly. "That's where I'm from."
Kaelen frowned faintly. He'd never heard of it.
Didn't matter.
Another voice spoke.
"You're lucky."
They both looked over.
A girl sat near the edge of the cart, her back against the wood, her arms wrapped around her knees. Her hair was tangled, her face streaked with dirt, but her eyes were sharp.
"Brennfall was quick," she said.
Kaelen stared at her.
"What does that mean?"
She held his gaze.
"They didn't stay long enough to drag it out."
The words landed wrong.
Cold.
"Where are you from?" Rhyen asked.
She hesitated for a moment.
"…Tarellin."
Kaelen didn't recognize that either.
"They came at night," she continued. "Took half the town before anyone even woke up. The rest…" She stopped, her jaw tightening slightly. "Didn't matter."
Silence settled again.
Heavier this time.
A smaller voice broke it.
"Are they going to kill us?"
Kaelen turned.
The boy couldn't have been older than ten. His face was pale, eyes wide, hands clenched tightly together like he was holding himself in place.
No one answered right away.
Rhyen let out a slow breath. "If they wanted us dead, we'd already be dead."
"That's not an answer," the girl said.
"It's the only one I've got."
Kaelen looked between them.
"They said we'd serve," he said.
The words felt bitter.
Like something he didn't want to believe.
"And what does that mean?" the younger boy asked.
No one spoke for a moment.
Then the girl answered.
"It means we're not people anymore."
Kaelen's hands tightened against the rope.
"They don't get to decide that."
She looked at him.
Not dismissive.
Just… steady.
"They already did."
Kaelen held her gaze for a second longer.
Then looked away.
Rhyen shifted slightly, leaning forward. "You tried something back there, didn't you?"
Kaelen didn't answer.
"I saw," Rhyen added quietly.
Kaelen's jaw tightened.
"Didn't matter," he said.
"No," Rhyen agreed. "It didn't."
A pause.
"But you still did it."
Kaelen glanced at him.
Rhyen shrugged lightly. "Most didn't."
That sat differently.
Not better.
Just… different.
Kaelen leaned his head back against the cart, staring up at the sky.
Gray.
Endless.
"I couldn't save him," he said.
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
No one asked who.
They knew.
"You weren't going to," the girl said.
Kaelen turned sharply.
She met his eyes.
"Not like that," she added. "Not against them."
Something flared in his chest.
Anger.
Sharp.
"What was I supposed to do then?" he asked.
Her answer came without hesitation.
"Live."
The word hit harder than anything else.
Kaelen didn't respond.
He looked away again, his throat tightening.
The cart lurched suddenly, wheels hitting uneven ground. A few of them shifted, bracing themselves against the wood.
Rhyen winced slightly. "They don't even slow down."
"No," Kaelen said.
They wouldn't.
Not for them.
The younger boy spoke again, quieter this time.
"Where are they taking us?"
Rhyen glanced ahead, then back. "Capital."
"What's it called?" the boy asked.
No one answered right away.
Kaelen noticed that.
Even the girl hesitated.
"Must be big," Rhyen muttered. "Big enough for all this."
The girl exhaled slowly.
"It is."
They all looked at her.
Her eyes had shifted now—not sharp, not distant.
Just… tired.
"That's where everything ends up," she said. "Orders. armies. people."
"And us?" the younger boy asked.
She hesitated.
Then—
"We'll see."
The answer wasn't comforting.
It wasn't meant to be.
Time passed.
No one kept track.
The air grew cooler as the light began to fade. The road widened slowly, the ground more worn, more traveled. More carts joined the path. More soldiers.
More people.
Kaelen lifted his head slightly.
Something was changing.
The smoke had thinned.
And ahead—
Something rose.
Walls.
Massive.
Dark stone stretching high into the sky, taller than anything Kaelen had ever seen. Towers stood above them, sharp and watchful. Banners hung from their sides—purple and white—moving slowly in the wind.
The road bent toward it.
Toward open gates.
People streamed in.
Endlessly.
The younger boy leaned forward slightly, his voice barely a whisper.
"…what is that?"
No one spoke at first.
Then the girl did.
Quiet.
Certain.
"…Caereth.