Draven blinked.
"Huh?"
The word slipped out before his brain caught up with what his mother had said. Rain streamed down his face, cold and sharp, grounding him as reality snapped back into focus.
"…Alright," he said, shaking his head once as if to clear it. "Yeah. Fine. Let's get out of here."
He turned sharply, eyes locking onto the others through the chaos of shadows and rain.
"Let's go find those two," he said, his voice snapping into command despite the tremor still humming in his chest. "Make sure Elenya and Lucifer are safe. Then we regroup with the old man. No need to waste any more time."
He stepped back toward Elliana, already reaching for her arm.
"Ma, let's go."
"No, honey."
Draven froze.
Another blink—slower this time.
"…Huh?"
Elliana didn't look at him as she spoke. Her attention remained fixed forward, on the shadows still shifting, still pressing Kaela back inch by inch.
"I'm not leaving with you," she said calmly.
The words hit harder than any shockwave.
Before Draven could respond, the air beside him rippled—
And the maid appeared.
One instant, there was nothing but rain-soaked ground and torn earth. The next, she was there—solid, unmoving, as though she had stepped out of a moment that no longer applied.
One hand was clamped around an armored throat—unmistakably Cedric's—lifting him slightly off the ground. His severed arm lay discarded in the mud nearby.
Already regenerating.
Muscle crawled.
Bone knit.
Flesh reformed.
Elliana continued speaking as though none of it required effort.
"Honey," she said, finally turning her head just enough for Draven to catch the edge of her profile, "you're going to leave with her."
The maid stood motionless.
Rain slid off her armor in thin, trembling lines. The metal of Cedric's armor was scored and bent where her fingers dug in, crushed by her grip. Whoever he had been moments ago, he did not struggle now. His weight sagged uselessly against her hand, boots barely brushing the ground.
Her other hand was ruined.
The gauntlet had been split open along the knuckles, torn clean through. Blood ran freely from the shredded flesh beneath, dripping steadily into the mud at her feet—each dark drop deliberate, marking the distance she had already crossed to reach this point.
She did not look at the wound as it healed.
Her attention was forward, her posture composed, as if restraining Cedric—breaking his momentum, ending his advance—had been nothing more than a necessary pause. Whatever violence had come before was already behind her.
Rain gathered on her form.
The storm moved on.
She did not.
"Go get your siblings," Elliana went on. "Keep them safe. Do not slow down. Do not look back."
Draven's hands curled into fists.
"I can't leave right away," Elliana finished, her voice steady, unyielding. "But I will come. Once I'm done here."
"No."
The word came out sharp. Raw.
Draven stepped forward, rain splashing around his boots as his jaw clenched so hard it ached.
"Hell no," he growled.
He glared at her, crimson eyes locking with silver, fury burning through the fear now that the choice was being made *for* him.
The shadows around Elliana stirred.
Not in anger.
In acknowledgment.
She turned fully toward him then, and for a single heartbeat, the ancient, terrifying presence fell away—
Leaving only a mother staring at the one thing in the world she would burn everything down for.
And the storm held its breath.
Draven stepped closer.
Rain plastered his hair to his face, lightning and shadow reflected in his eyes as his glare hardened into something fierce and immovable.
"That's not happening," he said flatly.
His voice didn't rise.
It didn't shake.
"There is no way in any hell you think I'm leaving," he continued, the words coming faster now, sharper, cutting clean through the storm, "while someone is standing right there trying to kill you."
He gestured violently toward the battlefield behind her—the shadows, the mana, the enemies still breathing.
"You expect me to run?" he snapped. "To turn my back and walk away like this is just another fucked-up night?"
His teeth bared in something between a snarl and a laugh.
"Like hell I'll do that."
Elliana faced him fully now.
Her shadows stilled—not retreating, not loosening—
Waiting.
"Draven," she said, her voice low and controlled, "you cannot stay here."
"Hell, I can."
"No," she repeated, firmer. "You *can't*. You need to go. You need to get your siblings and take them somewhere safe."
Her gaze flicked briefly—not fearfully, but knowingly—to the storm, to Kaela, to Cedric, to the armored figures emerging from the forest, and finally to the one still hanging uselessly in the maid's grasp.
"This place is too dangerous for you," Elliana said. "It's already gone beyond what I intended for you, honey."
Draven laughed once—sharp and bitter.
"Oh. I get it now."
He stopped moving.
Stopped breathing, just for a second.
"So that's what this is," he said quietly. "I'm a damn burden."
Elliana's eyes widened—just a fraction.
"That's not—"
"You need me gone because me staying just makes everything worse," Draven cut in, his voice tightening as pain bled through the anger. "Because if I'm here, you have to protect me. You have to hold back."
He gestured to himself, rain dripping from his clenched fists.
"But if I'm not," he said, swallowing hard, "then you don't have to worry about keeping me safe."
Silence fell between them—heavy. Dangerous.
"I get that," Draven said, lifting his chin, meeting her gaze head-on. "I really do."
Then his jaw set.
"But you should know something."
He stepped forward again, close enough now that Elliana could feel the heat of him through the rain, through the shadows.
"Just because I can't use mana," he said, his voice burning with conviction, "doesn't mean I'm damn weak."
His hand tightened reflexively around the spirit stone in his pocket.
"I've survived until now," he went on. "I've survived things that were supposed to erase me."
His eyes didn't waver.
"I'm still here."
Lightning split the sky overhead, thunder rolling like an answer.
"So don't stand there and tell me I need to run," Draven finished, eyes blazing, "because that isn't going to happen."
"If you're not leaving," he said, his voice low and final, "then neither am I."
The storm surged.
And for the first time since the fight began—
Elliana hesitated.