The first thing I feel is warmth. Not just the warmth of a bed, or a blanket pulled up to my chin. But warmth all around me—like being wrapped in sunlight that doesn't burn. Like safety. Like home.
Then I hear breathing. Soft. Close.
I open my eyes. The ceiling of my room. The smell of herbs. The afternoon light filtering through the curtain. And beside me—Lina, sitting in a chair, her arms folded on the mattress, head resting just next to mine. Her chest rises and falls in slow, even rhythm. Rennan sits slumped in another chair nearby, arms crossed, chin tilted down like he'd fallen asleep mid-watch. They stayed here. The whole night. For me.
My throat closes. I shift slightly. The sheet rustles under my fingers. Lina stirs. She blinks a few times, then lifts her head. Her eyes find mine immediately.
"Albus…" Her voice cracks. Then she grabs me. Softly, but all at once. Her arms wrap around me like vines curling tight, her hands cupping the back of my head as she presses her forehead to mine.
"Thank the gods… you're awake…" she breathes. She's crying. I feel it in the way her body trembles.
Rennan wakes up next, rubbing his eyes, confused for a second before he sees us. A relieved breath leaves him, and he walks over, kneeling beside the bed. "Scared the hell out of us, kid," he mutters, rubbing my shoulder.
It comes crashing in then. It wasn't just a nightmare. I really passed out. In the dark. In that hole.
I remember the tight space. The cold. The silence pressing on my skin like a second cage. And I remember Varric's voice. "Should be just big enough." I thought I could handle it. But I wasn't ready.
Tears sting my eyes again. But this time, I don't hide them. I wrap my arms around Lina's neck and cry into her shoulder, small broken sobs slipping out between my breaths.
My chest shakes. My body hurts. But I'm here. And they're still here too.
All three of us stay like that for a while. Just holding on. Just breathing.
. . .
The next morning, I sit outside on the steps, sipping from a cup of warm water. The air smells like fresh bread and tilled soil. My legs still feel a little wobbly, but I'm okay.
Lina steps out to hang the laundry when a shadow falls over me.
I look up. It's him. Varric. The hunter. He stands with his hands clasped behind his back, expression unreadable, but his eyes are different—softer, maybe. Concern, maybe.
He clears his throat. "About yesterday."
I look down. "I should've said no," I mumble. "It wasn't your fault."
Varric grunts. "Still. I suggested the spot."
Lina steps beside me and gives a tiny nod to him, not saying a word.
A moment later, Nella skips up the road. She waves with both hands. "Hey! Are you okay?"
I nod slowly. "Yeah. I'm okay." Her smile widens. "Good. If you wanna play again, you can! Anytime."
"Maybe," I whisper. She doesn't push. Just runs off, humming to herself.
Varric turns to leave. But I stand. "Wait." He pauses. I swallow. My heart beats faster.
"…You used to be an adventurer, right?" He turns just enough to glance over his shoulder. "Yes."
"…Can you use magic?" A pause. Then, "Yes."
I clench my fists. "…Can you teach me? How to fight. And use magic?" He fully turns to face me now. His face gives nothing away. But his silence feels heavy.
"Why?" he finally asks. I look at the ground. Then back at him. "Because I want to get stronger." Varric studies me for a long time. Not like he's judging. More like… he's remembering something.
"Strong?" he repeats, like he's tasting the word. I nod. His eyes narrow slightly. "There are other ways to grow strong, boy. Ways that don't involve swinging blades and playing with fire."
"I know," I say. "But that's not enough for me." He doesn't respond.
I keep going. My voice is quiet, but I don't stop. "I'm not from this village. I didn't grow up safe. I can't just pretend nothing bad will ever happen again. I need to know how to protect myself." And others. But I don't say that part.
He sighs, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "You're what—two years old?" I blink, then nod. "Yeah." He grunts. "You don't talk like a two-year-old." I don't answer. I think he already knows I'm different. Maybe not how different. But enough.
He walks over to the edge of the porch and leans against the post. His gaze drifts out toward the trees. The fields. The quiet. "This place… it's not like the rest of the world," he says. "You realize that, right? Willowmere is quiet because it's meant to be. We keep it safe, small. Because most of what's out there…" He gestures toward the horizon. "…isn't kind."
I nod again. "I know that too." He looks back at me. "You've seen it?"
"More than I wanted to." We stand in silence. Then I say something I didn't plan to. "I've already faced death. A few times." His eyes shift slightly. He knows I mean it. He doesn't ask for details. Doesn't press. Just crosses his arms and says, "You're stubborn."
I shrug. "Maybe." He sighs. Then mutters something under his breath that sounds almost like, "Just like me…"
He turns fully toward me now. "All right."
I blink. "Huh?"
"I'll train you." My heart skips. "But I'm not gentle," he warns. "And I won't slow down just because someone's small."
I nod. "You'll be sore. You'll get knocked down. Maybe cry."
"I don't care."
"You'll want to quit."
"I won't."
He studies me one more time. Then finally offers a single, small nod. "We start tomorrow. At sunrise."
"Sunrise?" I echo.
He smirks. Just barely. "You want to grow strong? Then you start with discipline."
I nod again, firmer this time. "Okay.
"Varric turns to leave, adjusting the bow on his back. "Get plenty of rest until then," he says over his shoulder.
I watch him walk away, long coat brushing the dirt, shoulders steady and quiet like a shadow that learned how to live in the light. I look down at my hands.
Small. But not helpless. Not anymore.
That night, I don't practice magic. I don't even try. I just lie in bed, staring at the wooden ceiling, the blanket pulled up to my chin.
Rennan and Lina say goodnight like they always do. No questions. No lectures. Just warmth in their voices and that soft look in their eyes like they've already accepted whatever I'm about to become.
After they leave, I keep still. My body feels heavy, but my mind is weightless. Varric is going to train me. Tomorrow. At sunrise.
I thought I'd be excited. Instead, I feel nervous. Not the scared kind. Not the bad kind. The kind that feels like standing at the edge of something big. A line I haven't crossed yet.
This isn't just playing pretend anymore. This is real. Real steps. Real training. Real strength.
Why do I want this so badly? I already told him I want to defend myself.
That's true. But there's more to it.
I want to be able to protect people. I want to be able to fight back if those soldiers ever find me. I want to make sure no one I care about dies again. Not like Elaria. Not ever again.
I clench the blanket in my fists. I won't forget her face. Her voice. The warmth of her arms around me. I won't waste the life she gave up everything to protect.
Even if it hurts. Even if it's hard. I'm going to get stronger.
So that if I ever see that dragon again—
Or the slavers.
Or the men in black iron armor—I won't just run. I'll be ready.
I turn on my side, watching the silver moonlight drift through the window.
Outside, the swing creaks gently in the breeze. But this time, the sound doesn't feel lonely. It feels… steady. Like a heartbeat.
. . .
The next morning comes too soon. The sun hasn't even peeked over the hills yet, but I'm already sitting up, pulling on my boots with trembling fingers. The floor is cold, and my breath fogs slightly in the early air.
But I don't hesitate. I tie the laces tight. I comb my fingers through my hair, quick and messy.
I step out into the gray-blue dawn and close the door quietly behind me. The village is still asleep. But one figure waits near the gate, leaning on his staff like he's part of the shadows.
Varric doesn't wave. He doesn't speak. He just watches as I walk toward him, boots crunching on the gravel. And when I reach him, he gives a single nod. "Ready?"
I look up at him. I nod back. "Yes."
No more running. No more hiding. I have a promise to keep. And a future to fight for.