Viktor's Wrath

 Joren ran hand through his hair, eyes flicking between his companions and the captive.

"We cannot stay here much longer," he said. "I know someone... an old friend. He lives close, in the back alleys, we'll find shelter there, away from the prying eyes."

Kaavi, "Is he trustworthy?".

Joren, "Yes."

Kaavi: "Okay, if you trust him, then let's go."

Snowflakes drifted lazily from a leaden sky, blanketing the cobblestone streets of Branwyke in silence. Joren led the group through the winding alleys, their breaths curling like ghosts in the frigid air.

His steps silent against the damp stone. The alley walls pressed close; shadows shallowed their forms as they neared their destination.

He paused at a weathered oak door, its hinges crusted with ice, and knocked twice—a rhythm.

Joren said softly, to the group. "He was the first of us. Baron's right hand when the Hallow Swords were forged. He'll help."

Kaavi's voice echoed softly in the minds of his companions.

"Do not speak of my abilities to him. The fewer who know, the safer we remain."

Gavril gave a subtle nod, while Joren exhaled in quiet understanding. The others followed suit without hesitation.

A pause. Then the latch clicked, the door eased open, revealing a figure standing just beyond the threshold.

Renn.

Sunlight casting half his face. His gaze flickered between them. Unreadable for a moment...

Calculating, assessing.

Then recognition settled.

"…You," he muttered.

Kaavi's stance remained unshaken, but Gavril exhaled sharply beside him.

The last time they had met, Renn's words were laced with provocation and taunt.

But this was different.

Joren exhaled. "Let us in.", his voice neutral.

Renn's gaze flickered over Joren first, then the rest of the group...until it landed on Corren.

Over his shoulder, Lana hung limp, wrists bound, her breath shallow.

Renn's brow furrowed ever so slightly.

He understood the kind of work the Hallow Swords were tasked with. The kind of people they hunted.

And yet, he said nothing.

Instead, he tightened his jaw, exhaled sharply, and stepped aside.

"Make yourselves at home," he muttered, and moved aside to let them in.

Inside, the light was dim, air heavy with the scent of metal and worn leather. Weapons rested against the wall, though dust has gathered over most of them. A soldier's home who was no longer on a battlefield.

Renn folded his arms, his presence filling the space as he spoke. "I owe an apology."

Kaavi's gaze sharpened.

"Last time we met at the gate," Renn continued, "I just played my part. I knew about what Lord Edric was planning. That meant keeping you in line." A pause. Then, quieter, "It wasn't personal."

The words carried weight. Not an excuse...just an explanation.

Kaavi measured him.

Then, without hesitation, he extended his hand.

Renn's lips twitched...not quite a smile, but something close. He took the offered grip, holding firm, offering no falsehood.

Kaavi's mind flickered against Renn's surface thoughts. No deceit. No lingering animosity. Just a soldier who had learned to live in silence.

Satisfied, Kaavi released him.

Renn exhaled, glancing toward the low-burning lamp. "I'd stay longer, but duty calls."

His fingers tapped against his belt, adjusting his gear.

"The house is yours. Make yourselves at home," Renn added as he moved toward the door, tightening his bracers.

Then, without another word, he left…, returning to his post at the gates.

As the latch clicked shut behind him, Gavril ran a hand through his hair. "That's convenient."

Kaavi gave a quiet nod. "Let's get to work."

Kaavi turned to Corren. "Lay her down."

Corren obeyed, setting Lana on the cot. Her breath came in ragged bursts, her fingers twitching against the bindings.

Gavril knelt beside her, uncorking a waterskin. "Here," he murmured, pressing the rim to her lips.

She drank…hesitant at first, then desperate.

Joren unfolded a blanket and draped it over her trembling form, shielding her from the chill.

Kaavi watched in silence; gaze unreadable. Then, without hesitation, his fingers brushed against Lana's forehead.

A flicker of power.

A whisper against thought.

No malice. No deception.

Only suffering.

Only loss.

Kaavi withdrew, his voice even. "She is innocent."

The tension in the room shifted...

The room felt colder than the outside air.

Joren stood near the cot, watching as Lana clutched the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She had stopped shaking, but her face was hollow...eyes distant, unfocused.

He knelt beside her, setting the waterskin down within reach. "Lana," he murmured, tone steady. "Tell me everything. From the beginning."

Her fingers curled around the edge of the blanket, knuckles white. For a moment, she didn't speak...perhaps unwilling, perhaps unable.

Kaavi watched closely.

Her mind was fragile, raw from the wounds carved into her life. Therefore, he did not attempt to dig any further in her mind, causing her more pain by flooding her mind with painful memories of what had happened.

Joren remained patient. "Lana."

She swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper.

"They came at the night."

Gavril stiffened. Kaavi stayed silent.

"My husband…" She inhaled sharply, but the breath stuttered, breaking apart like shattered glass. "He tried to fight them. He thought...he thought if he held them off long enough, we could run."

Joren's jaw tightened.

"They killed him." Her voice cracked...not loud, but heavy, thick with the weight of loss.

She wasn't crying. She had likely already spent her tears in the nights before.

Joren took a slow breath.

Lana's hands trembled.

"They took my son."

"I don't even know if he's alive." She clenched her jaw, shaking her head as if refusing to entertain the worst possibility. "They never tell me anything. Only what I must do."

Kaavi's voice was measured. "What do they ask of you?"

Lana swallowed hard. "Information."

Her fingers dug into the blanket, gripping onto whatever warmth she could find.

"They send word only during the New Moon," she whispered. "Always unseen. Always in the dark."

Joren exchanged glances with Kaavi and Gavril.

"One night," Gavril muttered. "Tomorrow is new moon."

Kaavi exhaled; his decision already made. "Then we set the trap."

Lana let out a shaky breath. "I just..." She looked at Joren, something desperate in her expression. "If my son is alive...if there's any chance..."

"We will find out," Joren promised, voice firm.

Lana lowered her head.

Kaavi stepped forward. His gaze lingered on her for a moment before he reached out, fingers brushing against her forehead.

A pulse of power...gentle, careful.

And with it, he erased her memory of their conversation.

She wouldn't remember.

But they would.

One night away.