Road to Dravenfel
The sound of hooves striking dry soil echoed through the still night.
The ground trembled slightly, each step steady — not too fast, not too slow.
The wagon creaked with every movement.
The night air grew colder, darker, with only a faint silver ray of moonlight cutting through the shadows, lighting their path.
Overgrown grass brushed against the wagon wheels, their sharp stems snapping softly beneath the weight.
Aaron kept his gaze forward, pulling out his pocket compass every so often to navigate their direction.
The dim light caught the metallic surface for just a second before he tucked it away again.
Meanwhile, Selena sat stiffly beside him — nervous, uneasy.
She glanced at Aaron.
He hadn't spoken much during the journey.
He only spoke when necessary. Yet, the closer they got, the heavier her unease became.
Finally, she broke the silence.
"Aaron." Her voice was barely above a whisper.
He didn't react at first, but she continued.
"What if… Gordon doesn't want to see me? What then?"
Aaron remained calm, his expression unreadable.
"We find another way," he answered simply.
Selena hesitated, then pressed further.
"How is he now?" Her voice wavered slightly.
This time, Aaron didn't answer right away. Silence stretched between them.
He inhaled deeply before finally speaking.
"Different."
Just that one word sent a chill down Selena's spine.
She didn't know what to expect.
Her anxiety swelled, twisting in her chest, filling her mind with all the worst possibilities.
The creaking of the wagon grew louder as they neared their destination.
Then — suddenly — the wagon came to a stop.
Selena turned to Aaron.
"Are we here?"
Aaron looked at her for a brief moment before shifting his gaze ahead.
"Just behind that bridge."
Selena followed his eyes toward the old stone bridge before them. Its color had long since faded, worn down by sun and rain.
The path ahead was partially hidden by wild grass, creeping up the sides, curling over the edges.
A small riverbed lay beneath it, dried up. Towering trees stretched overhead, their overgrown branches weaving together like a canopy, blocking out most of the night sky.
Yet, through the thick leaves, a single beam of light shone down — illuminating the bridge perfectly.
Selena stared at the sight, barely whispering under her breath.
"Scary… yet beautiful."
Aaron glanced at her, his expression unreadable.
Then, he stepped down from the wagon.
"Come," he said. "We go on foot from here."
He reached out, guiding her gently through the thick grass.
Selena hesitated, then closed her eyes and let herself trust him — trust Aaron to lead the way.
Inside the Abandoned Farm
Fire danced in Gordon's eyes.
He sat in a worn-out chair, staring into the flames.
His grip tightened around a glass of alcohol, the rim pressed against his lips — but he never drank.
In his other hand, he held a pen, hovering over a blank page.
But the fire distracted him.
For a moment, he let himself sink into it — watching the flames shift, grow, brighten.
And then, he heard it.
A voice.
A distant echo of seven-year-old Emily.
She was laughing, her joy filling the air like the crackling of the fire.
Gordon could see it, as if it were happening before him — the memory playing out like a ghost from the past.
Emily sat beside him, reading his letter for the first time, giggling uncontrollably.
He felt himself blush just watching her.
Beside them, Aaron sat silently, observing.
Emily grinned as she read aloud:
"If one day you forget me, I will come and find you!"
She burst into laughter.
"Gordon, I would never forget you. I'll stay by your side forever!"
Gordon turned red as Emily's bright eyes locked onto his.
But then, her smile softened. She grew serious.
"Gordon… promise me," she whispered. "Promise me you won't stop writing me letters."
Gordon nodded.
"I promise."
A low chuckle broke the moment.
Gordon frowned.
"What's so funny?"
Before Aaron could answer, Emily smirked.
"Oh, Sir Aaron Lancaster, this is your mission now!"
She pointed at him dramatically.
"Make sure Gordon writes me a letter every day!"
The three of them laughed together.
The warmth of that moment — brighter than any fire.
The Fire Creaks — Reality Crashes In
The memory shattered.
The fire cracked loudly, dragging Gordon back into the cold, empty present.
No matter how long he stared into the flames, Emily would never return.
She was gone.
Just a memory.
His grip on the glass tightened.
Rage, frustration, grief — they all clawed at his chest.
Then, without thinking —
He hurled the glass into the fireplace.
The flames roared violently, swallowing the alcohol, turning an unnatural shade of orange.
Glass shattered against the brick, the broken pieces glinting like dying embers.
But Gordon didn't flinch.
His breath came slow, heavy, shaking.
His pulse thundered in his ears.
His body was still, but his mind was burning.
He wanted to destroy something.
And then —
Three knocks at the door.
Gordon already knew who it was.
Aaron.
He exhaled slowly, swallowing down the violent storm inside him.
He forced himself to stand still.
His face returned to stone.
He counted to three.
Then — calm, collected — as if nothing had happened — he opened the door.
His expression was composed.
His greeting, genuine.
Until — he saw her.
A glimpse of Selena.
His body moved before his mind could catch up.
He shut the door immediately.
But before the door met the frame, Aaron's hand stopped it.
Aaron's voice was steady.
"Gordon, please. We need your help."
Gordon's eyes remained low. Slowly, they shifted.
To her.
Their eyes met.
And in that moment, Selena felt her entire world collapse.
There was nothing left in his gaze.
No warmth. No comfort. No familiarity.
Only rage, hatred, and betrayal.
It cut through her like a knife.
Her heartbeat quickened.
Her body froze.
A cold shiver ran down her spine.
She had never seen him like this.
Gordon's mouth parted slightly.
Selena's breath hitched.
Then —
"Leave."
His voice was low.
Cold.
Breaking.
One word.
But it shattered everything.
Selena felt her last hope die.
She barely had time to process it before — the door slammed in her face.
Selena ran.
She didn't know where she was going.
She just needed to get away.
Her breath came ragged, uneven.
The cold night air bit at her skin, but she didn't feel it.
She only felt the weight — the crushing weight of everything.
But before she could reach the other side of the bridge, a strong hand caught her wrist.
Aaron.
"Let me go!" she screamed, twisting in his grip.
She fought, but his hold didn't waver.
Aaron didn't speak.
He just shook his head, closing his eyes for a brief second.
Selena felt something inside her snap.
She let out a sharp, breathless laugh — one filled with nothing but pain.
"Can't you see?" Her voice cracked, but she kept laughing, shaking her head.
Aaron still said nothing.
So she threw the truth at him.
"I'm a murderer!"
The words ripped from her throat like a confession she had been waiting to scream.
The night swallowed the sound.
Her chest heaved.
"Emily is gone! Gordon despises me! Ms. Mary won't even look at me! Everyone sees me differently now!"
She jerked against Aaron's grip, but he didn't let go.
Her voice dropped — quieter now, weaker.
"I'm disgusting, Aaron."
Her lips trembled.
"I hate myself."
The words hung in the air.
She braced herself for the disgust in Aaron's eyes.
For the anger, the judgment, the rejection.
But none of it came.
Instead — Aaron tightened his grip.
Not in restraint.
In reassurance.
Selena's breath caught in her throat.
She looked at him fully for the first time.
There was no hatred in his gaze.
No fear.
Just sadness.
And when he spoke, his voice was so steady, so clear — so painfully certain.
"Selena, you are a wonderful girl."
Her entire body locked up.
"Even if no one loves you right now…" Aaron continued, his voice impossibly soft,
"There will always be one."
Selena stared at him, breathless.
And then — he spoke the words that would haunt her forever.
"There will always be someone who loves you — even if he sees blood on your hands, Selena. He will still love you."
She stopped breathing.
The world stopped turning.
The wind stilled.
And for the first time in so, so long…
She let herself believe — just for a second — that maybe, just maybe…
She wasn't completely alone.
A tear slipped down her cheek.
Aaron didn't wipe it away.
He just watched.
And then, gently — so gently it almost broke her — he said:
"One day… you will meet him."
The words floated between them, fragile and full of promise.
"But right now, please… let's go back."
Aaron held his hand out.
Not forcing her.
Just waiting.
Selena looked at him.
Her lips parted.
She wanted to say something — anything.
But no words came.
Because for the first time in her life — she didn't know what to say.
Her hands shook.
She clenched them into fists.
Then — slowly, painfully — she nodded.
And she let him lead her back.
From afar — Gordon watched.
His sharp gaze burned through the cracks of the creaking window.
His fist clenched tightly around a wooden plank — so tight that the rough, unpolished wood dug into his palm, drawing blood.
But he didn't feel the pain.
His voice was a low whisper.
"Why did you come here, Selena?"
The grip on the wood tightened.
Blood dripped onto the floor.
His breathing was slow, measured — but his rage was boiling.
"Killing Emily wasn't enough for you?"
He wondered.
His knuckles turned white.
His breath hitched, full of hate.
"What more do you want?"
The Next Day
Aaron stood at the harbor, watching the waves crash against The Black Swan.
The sea was restless — as if it reflected the storm brewing inside him.
His fingers repeatedly opened and closed his compass, the soft metallic click filling the quiet morning air.
But his mind wasn't here.
It was still stuck on Gordon's face.
The anger.
The betrayal.
The hatred.
"Am I doing the right thing?"
The question echoed in his head.
Then, a voice cut through his thoughts.
"Aaron."
Aaron turned.
It was Albert Drayton.
Tall and lean, with sharp, piercing gray eyes that never missed a detail.
His messy dark hair was tousled by the sea breeze, strands falling over his forehead.
He carried himself with a relaxed confidence, his movements always controlled, precise — like a man who never acted without purpose.
A thin smirk played on his lips as he approached, his black coat swaying slightly with each step.
Albert's gaze flicked down to the compass in Aaron's hands.
He smirked slightly.
"I know you're having a problem when you start clicking that compass of yours."
Aaron said nothing.
Albert stepped forward, his voice too casual.
"Is this about yesterday? Did the search for Gordon turn bad?"
Then, without hesitation, he added,
"If you want, I can help you search."
Aaron's eyes snapped to Albert, sharp and warning.
"No."
His voice was firm.
Albert raised a brow.
Aaron knew the truth.
If Albert went searching for Gordon…
He would find him.
And once Albert found him…
He would do whatever it took.
Without hesitation. Without mercy.
Aaron tightened his grip on the compass.
He had to make this clear.
"Leave it to me."
Albert watched him carefully.
Then — a slow, knowing smile.
"Understood."
Aaron watched Albert turn to leave.
But something inside him twisted.
An unease he hated feeling.
Before Albert disappeared into the morning mist, Aaron called out.
"Where is Captain Brendon?"
Albert paused. Just for a second.
Then — without fully turning back — he spoke.
"Captain Brendon?" he asked.
"Probably at the tavern, drinking with Ms. Mary and the doctor."
His voice was too casual.
Then — he walked away.
But that answer did not satisfy Aaron one bit.
And Aaron hated it.
He called out one more time.
"What about you?"
His voice was calm, but firm.
"Where are you going?"
Albert slowed his steps.
For a brief moment, Aaron swore he saw the faintest smirk.
Then — Albert didn't fully answer.
He just tilted his head slightly, teasing.
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
And with that, he vanished into the town.
Aaron exhaled sharply.
"Damn it, Albert."
At the Abandoned Farm
At night, the wind blew softly, brushing through the overgrown grass.
The sound of crickets filled the air, their song accompanying the quiet night.
Stars sprinkled the sky, and the moon hung low — so close, it felt as if one could reach out and touch it.
Atop the abandoned farm, Gordon sat alone on the rooftop, gazing at the endless sky.
Deep in thought. A bit of worry. A bit of doubt. A bit of sadness.
All of it piling up.
"Why her again?" he wondered.
Then suddenly…
A smooth gust of wind brushed against his ear.
"Go help her."
That voice.
Emily's voice. Soft. And kind.
It struck him like a pulse of warmth, breaking through the cold night air.
His chest tightened, his breath catching for a split second.
The weight of his thoughts shifted — not gone, but lighter, as if she had reached out and touched his heart.
Gordon clenched his fists.
"Why do you keep doing this to me?"
He exhaled sharply, shaking his head.
No matter how much time passed, her presence never faded.
It lingered, wrapping around him like an unseen force, refusing to let him go.
And no matter how hard he tried to ignore it…
He could never say no to her.
"Fine," he said, his voice low, breathy.
"I'll help her. But not for her…"
His chest tightened.
He paused, gazing into the distance.
Then he added,
"…but for you."
To be continued in…
Next: Chapter 6 — Devotion in the Fire