The invitation sat on Kahel's desk like it didn't belong.
A plain envelope with a silver-bladed circle on the front. Elegant. Silent. Threatening.
He hadn't opened it.
Not because he didn't want to.
But because a part of him already knew what was inside.
Mia hummed quietly to herself at the table, swinging her legs as she poured syrup over her waffles.
Kahel sat across from her, barely touching his own plate.
"Hey," she said between bites, "you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You look like you're trying to solve an ancient math equation."
Kahel smirked faintly.
"Just thinking."
She stared at him, suspicious. "Is it about that weird letter you brought home?"
"You looked at it?"
"I live here, genius." She rolled her eyes. "You left it on your desk like it was cursed or something."
Kahel didn't reply.
Mia leaned on her elbows, voice quieter.
"Is it something bad?"
He hesitated.
"I don't know yet."
Her eyes searched his face for a moment. Then she sat back and stabbed another piece of waffle.
"Well," she said, "if it's something serious, I know you'll handle it. You're kind of… weirdly good at scary stuff."
Kahel smiled, just a little. "Weirdly?"
"Yeah. Like scary calm. Like a ninja with a trauma complex."
He laughed under his breath.
"Eat your breakfast."
Later, Kahel found himself walking the outer edge of Vouille, past rusting fences and overgrown fields that used to be playgrounds before funding got cut. He took a turn off the sidewalk, down an old path leading into the woods.
It was his usual route. Quiet. Secluded.
But the moment he stepped beneath the trees, his instincts lit up.
There was someone ahead.
He couldn't see them, but the birds had gone quiet.
Kahel moved slowly, staying close to the shadows. His footfalls made no sound on the dirt.
Then he heard it.
A single breath. Held too long.
He dropped low.
A figure lunged from behind a tree, sweeping toward him with a wooden staff, light, quick, precise.
Kahel dodged the strike, shifted under the second, and stepped inside the arc. His hand caught the attacker's wrist, and he twisted hard.
The figure let out a pained grunt and backed off, dropping into a ready stance.
A young girl. Maybe a year older than him. Short black hair tied in a high knot. She wore a dark training outfit and thin gloves. Her stance was formal, refined.
"You react well," she said, flexing her shoulder. "You're not just some street rat."
Kahel didn't lower his guard. "Why are you following me?"
"I'm not. I was watching the path. You just happened to show up."
"Coincidence?"
"In this world?" She gave a lopsided grin. "Never."
He watched her carefully. Her energy was faint, but focused like a flame held in glass.
"You're with the Association," he guessed.
Her smile didn't fade. "Something like that. I'm a scout-in-training. They don't usually let us interact with prospects, but… I got curious."
"About me?"
She shrugged. "You're different. No background. No training. And somehow you still manage to stand up to Varen without collapsing. People talk."
"Not interested in being a conversation."
"You should be," she said. "In this world, silence is dangerous."
Kahel didn't respond.
She tapped the end of her staff against the ground. "You going to accept the invitation?"
"I haven't decided."
"Then decide fast. The longer you wait, the more eyes you attract."
She turned to go, then paused.
"By the way," she added over her shoulder, "they call me Liora. If you join, we'll probably meet again."
She vanished between the trees like she'd never been there.
Kahel stood there a while, staring at the leaves shifting in the wind.
Too many things were moving at once now.
The rogue. Varen. The woman at the bridge. Now this scout.
And behind all of it, the invitation, waiting quietly on his desk.
That night, he stood in the shed again.
The photo of his mother sat in the same place.
His breathing slowed.
He closed his eyes and spoke to her like he always did.
"They're offering me a door," he whispered. "One step forward… and I won't be able to come back."
His hands curled into fists.
"But maybe it's the only way to reach them. The ones who killed you. The ones hiding in the dark."
He opened his eyes.
The moonlight poured through the cracks in the wall, painting silver lines across the floor.
He didn't hesitate anymore.
Kahel turned, left the shed, and walked back into the house.
He picked up the envelope.
And opened it.