The early morning air was cold, but I was already awake before the first light touched the camp. Across the room, Andrew was stretching, rolling his shoulders like he did every morning.
"Didn't expect you to wake up this early, you don't sleep much these days." he said, cracking his neck.
I didn't reply, I just stood up, flexing my fingers slightly.
After finishing my daily morning routine and a few warm-ups stretches; we sat down at the small wooden table in our room, an old chessboard between us. The pieces were slightly mismatched; some had been lost over time; but it didn't matter.
Andrew made his move, shifting his knight forward. "So, how's the arm?"
I barely glanced at it. "It's fine."
He raised an eyebrow. "You say that, but did you even check it?"
I didn't answer.
Andrew sighed and leaned back. "That's what I thought. You should get it checked out before it gets worse. Don't ignore it; we no longer live in the forest."
I moved my queen across the board. "I'm going to see Sophia."
Andrew smirked and moved his bishop. "Oh, perfect! She'll like that. She's been watching over you since we got back from the trade. She's really caring; she wasn't like that when we first met her."
I replied, planning an attack. "I think she only acts that way with us. She considers us close to her."
A little smile drew itself on Andrew's face. "Yeah, I noticed that."
I ignored his comment and focused on the board. He was close to cornering my king, but not quite. I slid my rook forward, letting my fingers rest against the piece for a second, before speaking.
"Checkmate."
Andrew blinked, then groaned, rubbing his face with one hand. "Damn it. I was so close."
I stood up, adjusting my coat. "Not close enough."
Andrew shook his head, still grinning. "One day, I'll win."
I walked toward the door, pausing slightly. "Are you coming?"
"Nope," he said, stretching his arms. "I need to fix my armor and sharpen my sword first. I'll catch up later."
Before I stepped out, he spoke again.
"By the way, we still need more members for our team."
I already knew that.
"And," he added, "we need a name."
I thought for a moment before speaking. "Ironveil."
Andrew blinked, then laughed. "Ironveil? What does that even mean?"
"It sounds strong." I replied.
"It sounds weird." He smirked, shaking his head. "But hey, if that's what you want."
I glanced at him before stepping out. "I'll wait for you there."
The camp was already awake; soldiers and recruits moving around, preparing for the day. The rhythmic clash of swords echoed from the training grounds as sparring matches had already begun.
I passed the stables, where horses shifted, their breath visible in the cold air. Further ahead, a group of younger recruits ran in formation, their steps heavy, their faces tired.
Sophia would only be in one place. The library. It was quieter there, away from the noise of the camp.
As expected, she was there. The scent of old books and parchment always lingered in the air. It was a place filled with strategy guides, medical texts, and war records.
Sophia sat at one of the wooden tables with a thick book open in front of her. She wasn't just reading; she was focused and lost in the information she was taking in. Her silver hair was tied loosely back, and her broken hand rested on the table.
She noticed me immediately, closing the book. Her eyes looked to my arm before settling on my face.
"You came," she said simply with a smile.
I didn't respond.
Sophia stood up without hesitation. "Let's go."
She walked ahead, using her cane to propel herself forward, and led me toward the medical wing, the designated place in the camp where injuries were treated. It wasn't a full hospital, but it had everything necessary: bandages, healing herbs, and trained medics.
As we walked, I glanced down at my arm as we walked. The bandages were still tight, but I could feel the slight pain beneath them. The wound hadn't gotten worse, but it hadn't healed much either.
Sophia sighed, shaking her head. "You never take injuries seriously, do you?"
I rolled my shoulder slightly, testing the stiffness. "If I did, would it change anything?"
She let out a small breath, her tone quieter. "It would mean you actually care about yourself."
I didn't respond immediately. It wasn't that I didn't care; I just didn't see the point in making a fuss over something that would heal over time. However, I knew I had to take care of a wound like this—that's why I'm here.
When we reached the medical wing, she stepped inside first. "Sit," she said firmly.
I sat down.
Sophia carefully unwrapped the bandages from my arm, her eyes focused. As she unwrapped them, the deep wounds from the arrows were exposed. My hand looked terrible; it had been a while since I'd been injured like this.
She didn't say anything at first, just reached for a small jar filled with Turmeric, an herb for inflammation and infection, she started by crushing it with a pestle until it became a powder. Then she finely grinded the comfrey leaves, and then she grinded all the other herbs, like ginger, which stimulates blood circulation, and calendula petals, which are responsible for skin repair. She did all that work with just one hand. Her dedication is truly impressive.
In fact, I had no idea we could mix all these herbs together... She's clever. After mixing, she added some black pepper, and I don't know what its specific use is.
Sophia looked at me and saw my surprised expression. "Black pepper actives the turmeric's healing properties, if you're wondering."
I replied. "Oh, that's a new information for me."
She smiled and said, "I'm glad I was able to help you."
Finally, she added a few drops of warm water to form a thick paste. She mixed them, the faint scent of medicine filling the air.
"This will help speed up the healing," she said, dipping her fingers into the mixture. "Try not to move too much."
She pressed the cool paste onto my wounds, working carefully. The sting was sharp at first, but it faded quickly.
After a few moments, she spoke again.
"You and Andrew… you guys are unbelievably strong," she said, her voice quiet but steady. "The way you always fought. It was like you knew exactly what the other was going to do."
I leaned back slightly. "We've been fighting together for a long time."
Sophia nodded, tying fresh bandages around my arm. "And he's always watching out for you."
I glanced down at the bandages as she worked. "He always has."
It really has always been like that since we were little, remembering that makes me a little nostalgic. Andrew was always protective.
My heart warms a little when I think back to those moments when we lived with the professor. He tried to educate us and other children in his tent. I wasn't the type to talk much, and the other kids always tried to bully me. But Andrew was there to stop them—or even hit them. The professor was always calm, though, and asked Andrew not to use violence, but rather to try to get closer to the other kids.
I wasn't sure why I said it, but the words came naturally.
"I don't remember much from when we were kids," I admitted. "But I do remember that Andrew was always there. Whenever someone tried to mess with me, he'd stop them, it didn't matter who it was. He never let anyone hurt me."
Sophia listened closely, her hands pausing for just a moment before continuing.
I exhaled. "Even now, he hasn't changed. He still treats me like that kid he has to protect."
When I looked at her, she was watching me carefully, a slight blush covered her cheeks.
That's when I noticed something, she seems interested when I talk about Andrew.
Sophia blinked when she noticed me looking at her and quickly turned her attention to my bandages.
I didn't say anything, just watched as she finished.
Sophia tied the last bandage with steady hands, but there was a weight in her movements, as if something lingered in her mind.
She sat back slightly, exhaling. "I really like how you two are so close." She hesitated, then continued, "And... How you both treated me differently from the others."
I raised an eyebrow. "Differently?"
She looked down at her hand, fingers lightly pressing against her broken hand. "The reason I came here… it wasn't just because I wanted to continue my father experiment. It was because I had nowhere else to go."
Her voice was calm, but there was something behind it.
"When I first arrived, people looked at me the same way they always have, and everyone avoided me." She let out a small, hollow laugh. "I got used to it."
I remained silent, letting her speak.
"But you two never did that." Her red eyes flicked up, meeting mine. "You and Andrew… never looked at me like I was strange."
There was a pause before she continued.
"My father never did either. He loved me, no matter what." She took a slow breath, her voice quieter now. "But after losing him, it was hard to live with that. And my mother… I lost her too early to even remember her."
She looked away, staring at the floor.
"She died because of radiation poisoning. And maybe… that's why I look like this." She lifted a strand of her silver hair, letting it fall between her fingers. "She was already poisoned before I was even born."
"I remember one night," she said quietly. "I asked my father if I looked… unnatural. I told him how the other kids looked at me, they always called me a demon. How they whispered about my hair, my eyes. How some even laughed."
She paused again.
"He just laughed. Then, he pulled me onto his lap, ran his hand through my hair, and said, 'You are the cutest, most beautiful girl in the world. And you are special, Sophia. Not because of how you look, but because of who you are. One day you will meet people who care for you.' "
A faint, distant smile crossed her lips. "I believed him."
She exhaled, shaking her head slightly. "No matter how much time passes… I still hear his voice when I think about it."
She let out a small breath, shaking her head. "But Andrew… he never asked." Then looked at me with a smile. "You didn't ask either, but I spent so much time with Andrew, he didn't even think about it."
I frowned slightly. "What do you mean about -asking- exactly?"
"He never asked why my hair is this color. Why my eyes are red." A small, almost sad smile touched her lips. "Most people do. Some are just curious. Others ask because they want to remind me that I'm different."
She looked at the ground, her expression unreadable. "But he never did. He never treated me any differently. Not once."
"It's different… being around you two," she admitted. "It feels nice. I feel comfortable."
I studied her for a moment. She had always been quiet, composed, hard to read. But now, just for a second, she looked… comfortable.
I leaned back slightly, exhaling. "Andrew's like that," I said simply.
Sophia looked at me for a moment before a small smile crossed her lips.
I let out a quiet breath and, without thinking much about it, smiled at her in return. "Andrew and I will always be here for you."
She blinked, surprised.
I looked away and adjusted the sleeve of my coat. "We're one family now."
Sophia lowered her gaze slightly, but her smile remained. "Yeah..."
"Wait, you smiled widely," she said, as if trying to make sure she hadn't imagined it.
I adjusted my sleeve and looked away. "Don't get used to it."
But she just smiled brighter. The room was quiet for a moment, but this time it wasn't heavy. It was peaceful.