The valley had grown cold.
Not with the chill of night, but with the slow sinking weight of exhaustion.
The three of them — Cael, Fen, and Iris — sat around a small, crackling fire, tucked between the broken stones of the ancient ruins. The flames threw long shadows on the shattered walls, dancing across faces that were too young for such old eyes.
No one spoke for a long time.
They ate in silence, tearing strips of dried meat with bloodied fingers, nursing broken ribs and frayed nerves. Every crack of the fire seemed too loud. Every gust of the cold wind seemed to carry ghosts.
They had survived.But none of them felt like victors.
They were bruised and battered. Inside and out.
And yet... there was something stronger tying them together now. An unspoken bond, forged by the gods' trials and sealed by their own refusal to break.
Cael shifted closer to the fire, staring into its heart.
"I suppose," he said quietly, "we should know more about each other. After all this."
Fen gave a grunt of agreement. Iris just nodded, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders.
The silence stretched.
Finally, Cael spoke first.
He didn't look at them as he began, just kept his eyes locked on the fire, like the words were drawn out of him against his will.
" I was born in a small town in the Vale of Greyroot, you probably never heard of it."
He paused feeling the weight of his words ecoming greater:" My mother, I... I never knew her, she died while giving birth to me and my father was a strict but loving crippled man".
"Crippled ?" Iris asked
"Yes he became paralyzed during the Godfall."
"My childhood was rather uneventfull, nothing happened, it was quiet. But a bit before I turned eighteen some member of the Temple came for me. They did not find me, thanks to my father and so whe had to flee."
Then his tone became somber.
" After a few days we met up with an old friend of my father but the religious zealots found us again, it was my fault."
" What do you mean your fault " Iris said
" My aweakening led them us. So we fought and won but my father's health started to deteriorate and because of that we seeked refiuge in the enclave where I met Fen and he died there. "
Fen leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"This is not going to be a happy converssation, hu ?"
He raked a hand through his short, dusty hair and began counting his story.
"My parents were farmers. Simple folk. Good people."
His voice tightened.
"They got caught up in a war between Lilvia and Thalassia. Not soldiers — just in the wrong place when the fighting spilled over."
He cracked his knuckles absently.
"I was maybe nine when they died. Our farm burned, so did our life. I would've burned with it if my grandpa hadn't dragged me out."
There was a hard glint in Fen's eyes now.
"After that... the church came sniffing around the ruins. They realised that I was marked and wanted to take me in. Train me. Make me a 'servant of the Light,' they said."
He spat into the fire.
"I knew better. So did my grandpa. We ran. Stayed ahead of them for a while. Eventually found our way to the Enclave. They don't care about bloodlines there. Just whether you can hold your own."
" What is that enclave you guys keep talking about ?" said Iris perplexed
" It used to be a place full of people where you could live freely, hidden from the church and the army, but now it is just an echoe of this. Only my grandpa and I live there now."
He gave a small shrug.
"And that's where I met Cael. Been stuck with his sorry ass ever since."
Cael chuckled, and for a moment the tension eased.
But it settled again just as quickly when they turned to Iris.
She sat very still, staring into the fire.
When she spoke, her voice was low, almost lost in the crackle of the flames.
"I don't know where I was born."
The firelight caught the tightness in her jaw.
"Somewhere in the Steel Kingdom, probably. Doesn't matter. I grew up in the slums. No parents. No family. Just me."
She tugged the cloth tighter around her bandaged hands.
"I lived off scraps. Picked pockets. Ran messages for gangs when I got desperate."
Her eyes darkened, reflecting the flames.
"When I was twelve, I crossed the wrong gang. Took something I shouldn't have."
She laughed softly, but there was no humor in it.
"They sent men after me. I ran. Hid. Survived by moving city to city, sleeping under carts or in ruined buildings."
She looked up at them finally, her green eyes sharp as glass.
"Eventually, I made it to Lilvia. Thought maybe... maybe things would be different there."
Her hands tightened in her lap.
"They weren't."
No one spoke.
What could they say?
Three souls, three paths — all paved with loss and desperation.
No wonder they had survived the gods' cruelty.
They had been forged long before they stepped into the Trial.
The fire crackled on.
For a while, they just sat there, each lost in their own thoughts.
Fen broke the silence eventually, voice rough.
"Guess we're all stubborn bastards, huh?"
Cael smiled slightly. "Seems so."
Iris gave a faint shrug, her bruised shoulders lifting in the firelight.
"Better stubborn than dead."
They chuckled — quietly, almost carefully, as if laughter might wake something dangerous in the dark.
But it felt good. Real.
Not forced.
Not anymore.
The night deepened around them.
Above, the false stars burned — cold and sharp in the endless sky.
Somewhere beyond the ruined valley, the next trials waited.More gods. More tests.More chances to break.
But for tonight...
Tonight, they were just three survivors sharing a fire in a broken world, bound not by blood or oath, but by the simple, stubborn refusal to fall.
And for now — that was enough.