A sturdy man in his forties, clad in dust-covered light armor, rode his horse into the ruined fortress. His brow furrowed deeply as his gaze swept over the scene: scorched houses, rubble strewn across the streets, and corpses lying like discarded dolls.
His jaw clenched. He tugged the reins, making the horse turn sharply. As he turned, the hundreds of cavalrymen behind him—each clad in steel and bearing the royal crest on their chest—straightened their backs and sharpened their eyes, awaiting command.
"Find Queen Belmore," he ordered sharply. "Search every house, cave, or hiding hole in this region. Leave no stone unturned. If you find anyone suspicious, capture them."
He paused, his breath ragged for a moment, before adding, "And if they resist... cut off a part of their body. Bring the rest back here."
--
The sky shone brightly as they left the house behind.
Riven walked at the front, pulling a small wooden cart that creaked under its weight. Inside, a pile of weapons—swords, spears, even one or two broken bows—lay in disarray. They were taken from last night's battlefield. Dried blood still stained some of them—Mira hadn't had time to clean them all—serving as silent testimony to the chaos that had just ended.
Behind him, Mira and the mysterious woman who called herself Anna followed silently. The hot wind danced through the leaves, as if trying to erase their tracks from the little house on the hillside.
That house—though it sheltered them only briefly—had been a sanctuary.
But once the woman regained consciousness and confessed that she was still being hunted, the house became a ticking time bomb. No longer safe for Riven. Nor Mira. And certainly not for the woman herself. Staying longer would only invite death to knock at their door.
So Riven made a decision—to leave.
"Are you sure you can walk this far?" he asked without turning, his voice flat, but laced with concern. "With wounds like that?"
Ashtoria—or Anna, as she had introduced herself—replied immediately. "These wounds are nothing."
Her tone was cold, emotionless, as if her body no longer belonged to her.
"I'm not an ordinary person," she added.
Riven glanced at her briefly, eyeing her sideways. He didn't doubt it—not after she had thrown him down so effortlessly.
"You really don't have any other plans?" he pressed. "You're seriously planning to just… follow us?"
Ashtoria simply nodded once, offering no further explanation. Her face remained blank, her eyes fixed ahead. For now… she had no intention of going back.
"Hey!" Mira suddenly chimed in, glaring at her brother. "If you want to help, why are you being so half-hearted?! Can't you see she's badly hurt and being chased by dangerous people?!"
Riven merely glanced at her. Then, without a word, he reached out and pinched her cheek.
"Ow! Big bro!" Mira swatted his hand away, her face flushed red. "Stop treating me like a kid!"
"You are a kid," Riven replied dryly.
The scene made Ashtoria frown.
She observed the siblings in silence. An annoying brother and a stubborn little sister—bickering lightly, yet there was something warm about it. Something… unfamiliar.
Family.
Ashtoria couldn't remember the last time her own family had treated her with any kindness. As far as her memory stretched, they only ever locked her away and gave her scars. Smiling while arguing? That was a luxury far beyond her grasp. It felt like a dream from someone else's life.
Mira, having finally freed herself from her brother's hand, walked up to Ashtoria. Gently, she touched the woman's cheek, still slightly red from the pinch, and smiled.
"My brother may be petty," she said honestly, "but he's a good person. Don't let his words get to you. We'll help you. I promise."
Ashtoria stared at her for a few seconds, then nodded slightly. Even though deep down, she knew—they couldn't help her at all.
Mira leaned forward again, her eyes sparkling with teenage curiosity.
"By the way… how did you get to be this pretty?"
Ashtoria froze again. These siblings... were truly bizarre.
Riven groaned, shooting Mira an annoyed look.
"Don't talk to her like that," he scolded.
Then he glanced toward Ashtoria and added, "She doesn't believe she's pretty anyway."
Ashtoria glanced at him briefly, her face still unreadable. But inside, something flickered—a part of her stirred at those words.
Riven then asked, more seriously this time, "You said you weren't ordinary, right?"
Ashtoria nodded.
"Are you a Lawbearer?"
She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she met his gaze, realizing that somewhere within his eyes… there was hope.
"Yes," she said simply.
Of course.
There was no way a thin, wounded woman like her could have taken him down so easily without wielding power beyond normal human strength.
Lawbearer—that's what they were called. Or more commonly: Mages.
Riven had always heard that word spoken with a mix of awe and fear, as if referring to beings not quite human. Lawbearers were rare—chosen individuals granted the world's blessing. It was said they could command nature, bend reality, and wield the very laws that held existence together.
They were called Lawbearers because they bore the laws within them.
The laws of fire, ice, shadow, time… even life and death—these were no longer abstract ideas to them. They could shape them, command them, and use them. They fused with a single aspect of the world. And in return, the world entrusted them with a sliver of its essence.
But becoming a Lawbearer wasn't easy. It wasn't something one could achieve through effort alone. It demanded exceptional talent from birth. And that talent… usually flowed in noble bloodlines. Especially ancient ones—those whose ancestors had long been Lawbearers, strengthening their lineage through selective marriages, passing the gift down generation after generation.
Which is why nobles held dominion over nearly everything—knowledge, land, politics, and most of all… power.
Commoners like Riven? Their chance of becoming a Lawbearer was nearly zero. If one did show talent, noble families would immediately try to adopt or claim them as tools for their own ambitions. They'd be trained, monitored, and eventually—used.
Worse, even the few talented commoners rarely surpassed true nobles. They simply didn't grow up with the same access to resources, teachers, or libraries. They were always… behind.
That's why Riven always believed this world had already decided who was allowed to be powerful, and who would remain prey.
But seeing Anna—the mysterious woman now walking beside him—reveal herself as a Lawbearer… cracked open a new possibility.
He looked at her again. A woman he didn't know. Didn't understand. He wasn't even sure "Anna" was her real name.
But one thing was clear—she was a Lawbearer.
"I want to ask you one thing," Riven suddenly said, stopping in the middle of the road.
Mira and Ashtoria halted. The wind stirred softly, brushing through their hair.
Riven turned, locking eyes with Ashtoria.
"Teach me."
Ashtoria didn't answer—just stared back, unblinking.
"As payment for helping and saving you," Riven continued, voice firm. "Teach me how to become a Lawbearer."
---
Hi guys, author here!
I just want to make a little confession.
Actually, I'm not a native English speaker, so if you notice any mistakes, feel free to leave a comment—I'd really appreciate it!
Also, I wanted to ask your opinion:
Does the title "Lawbearer" sound cool to you, or does it feel a bit awkward? Should I consider changing it?
Let me know what you think!
Thanks for reading and supporting the story 😊