The fire crackled low in the ancient chamber, a flickering pulse of warmth against the frigid air. Outside, snow fell in steady silence. Inside, the past returned with the weight of a thousand unspoken truths.
Flynn sat across from Khalid, the space between them filled not by distance, but by everything left unsaid.
Khalid didn't look away. "I was born to a house too minor to matter. My father was executed as a traitor when I was nine. My name meant nothing in Elaris. I had nothing until the court noticed I could make people listen."
"And so you turned on them?" Flynn asked.
"No," Khalid said. "I was loyal. I believed in Elaris. In you. In General Caelan."
The name echoed, and Flynn didn't react, but something in his eyes dimmed.
Khalid continued, "But the king feared you. He saw the way you rose how the people cheered your name more than his. He ordered your removal. Quietly. Permanently."
Flynn went still.
"I refused," Khalid said. "At first. Then they gave me a choice: carry out the sentence or die beside you. My family would be stripped of name, land, future. So I—"
"You chose to kill me," Flynn said, voice like a blade.
Khalid looked him in the eye. "I chose to live."
Flynn stood. "And now?"
Khalid didn't move. "Now I kneel before the ghost I made… and hope that whatever remains of him can spare the man I've become."
Flynn turned his back.
"I'm not a ghost, Khalid."
Khalid stood as well, slow. "Then what are you?"
"I don't know," Flynn said. "But I am the blade between us."
He walked out, the torchlight catching in his white hair like snow on steel. Khalid didn't follow.
Behind them, Elior lingered in the shadows, his expression unreadable.