Edrin had hoped—briefly and unrealistically—that defeating three Invaders in one day would earn him some form of rest.
Instead, it earned him a conversation.
A serious one.
"I don't like serious conversations," he said immediately, sitting on a rock and staring at the ground like it had personally betrayed him.
Lyra stood nearby, arms crossed. "That's unfortunate."
Ronan leaned against a tree, unusually quiet for once.
Edrin looked between them. "…That's never a good sign."
"It isn't," Lyra confirmed.
Edrin sighed. "Alright. Say it."
Lyra didn't hesitate. "We can't stay here."
Edrin blinked. "I was afraid you'd say something like that."
Ronan nodded. "She's right. The attacks are getting more frequent."
"And stronger," Lyra added.
Edrin glanced toward the village. In the distance, he could hear faint laughter, the sounds of people trying to return to normal after something that was very much not normal.
"…This is my home," he said quietly.
Lyra's expression softened—just slightly. "And that's exactly why we have to leave."
Edrin frowned. "That doesn't make sense."
"It does," Ronan said. "They're targeting you."
Edrin winced. "I was hoping we'd stop saying that out loud."
"If you stay," Lyra continued, "they'll keep coming here."
Edrin looked down at his hands.
"They'll hurt people," she added.
Silence.
Edrin didn't joke this time.
Didn't deflect.
"…So I leave," he said slowly, "and they follow me instead."
"Yes," Lyra said.
"That sounds like I'm the problem."
"You are," Ronan said bluntly.
Edrin nodded. "I appreciate the honesty."
Lyra stepped closer. "You're also the solution."
Edrin looked up at her.
"…I'm still getting used to that idea."
"You don't have time to get used to it," she said.
"That seems to be a recurring theme."
Ronan pushed off the tree. "Look, staying here isn't an option. If you want to protect this place, you need to get stronger. Fast."
Edrin let out a slow breath.
"…And that means leaving."
"Yes."
He glanced toward the village again.
The familiar buildings.
The quiet life he had always known.
The fence he still couldn't climb.
"…I never wanted any of this," he admitted.
Lyra didn't respond immediately.
Then, quietly—
"I know."
Edrin nodded.
"But you're here anyway," she added.
He let out a small, tired laugh. "I tripped into it."
Ronan smirked. "Then keep moving forward."
Edrin stood slowly, brushing dirt from his clothes.
"…Alright," he said.
Lyra watched him carefully. "Alright?"
"I'll go," Edrin said. "Before I change my mind."
Ronan grinned. "Good choice."
Edrin pointed at him. "I'm blaming you if this gets worse."
"It will definitely get worse," Ronan said.
"…I regret everything."
Lyra turned toward the path leading out of the village. "We leave at dawn."
Edrin nodded.
Then paused.
"…Can I at least say goodbye?"
Lyra hesitated.
Then nodded. "Quickly."
Edrin smiled faintly. "I'll try not to make it emotional."
"You will," Ronan said.
"I probably will."
As the sun began to set, Edrin walked back toward Brindlewick.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
Behind him, Lyra and Ronan waited.
Ahead of him—
Everything he was about to leave behind.
For the first time, the journey felt real.
Not just training.
Not just survival.
But a choice.
And this time—
Edrin didn't trip.
He walked forward.