The first sign was the bells.
Not loud. Not joyous.
Just a soft, distant chiming—like wind brushing metal in a ruined cloister far up the mountain.
The fire had burned low.
Rein stirred beside the hearth, half-asleep, one hand resting absently on Zeraka's hip where she lay curled at his side.
Valaithe was wrapped against his back, breath slow, warm, rhythmic.
Elaris stood guard by the broken archway, as she always did. Her sword rested on her shoulder, and her eyes were fixed on the dark horizon.
Then she said, very softly—
"Someone's coming."
Zeraka woke instantly.
Her tail tensed like a whip, claws half-unsheathed as she slid upright in a single motion.
Valaithe didn't move—but her eyes snapped open, golden irises narrowed, smile gone.
Iris had already risen.
She stood by the dead altar, cloak wrapped around her like mourning silk, broken blade at her back. Her stare didn't search the horizon. She was looking straight at the entrance.
"She's here."
The bells grew louder.
Not many. Just three.
One for Judgement.
One for Mercy.
One for Binding.
The kind of bells only paladins carried.
A wind blew in—not cold, but cutting.
Sharp enough to make Rein flinch.
The kind of air that hadn't touched demon-scarred lands in years.
And then she stepped into view.
Knight-Lieutenant Caelia of the Seventh Oath.
Clad in half-plate gilded with sunlight runes, every edge of her armor kissed by prayer.
Her cape was white—not pure, but righteous.
Her sword was bound in waxed leather, a symbol of restraint.
She stood framed by the ruined arch like she belonged there.
And Rein felt it the moment her gaze locked onto him.
Not hunger.
Not violence.
Not even fear.
She looked at him like someone who'd been warned about a storm— and just realized it had eyes.
She walked forward.
Each step daunting, but not slow.
The air shifted around her—divine pressure, not meant to oppress, but to expose.
Valaithe hissed once.
Zeraka let out a low, warning growl.
"She smells like chain metal and lies," Zeraka muttered.
Caelia stopped four paces from the fire.
She didn't look at the others.
Only Rein.
Then—with military grace—she dropped to one knee.
And removed her helm.
Her face was younger than he expected.
No battle scars.
No hate.
Just focus.
Her eyes were a piercing blue, like frozen glass that didn't melt even under firelight.
She bowed her head.
"I am Knight-Lieutenant Caelia of the God-King's Order of the Seventh Oath."
"I have not come to kill you."
"I've come to see if you should live."
The air held.
Elaris didn't speak.
Iris's fingers slowly curled around her belt.
Zeraka rose fully, her body tense and ready.
Valaithe just smiled and whispered to Rein—
"Another one's about to fall."
.
.
The silence cracked first.
Zeraka broke it with a low snarl and took a step forward, planting herself squarely between Caelia and Rein.
Her tail flicked once—then froze, locked like a drawn blade. Her fingers twitched near her claws, though she hadn't reached for them yet.
"If you've come to judge him," she said coldly, "you'll leave with fewer bones... or none."
Caelia didn't rise.
Didn't even look at her.
"I don't answer to demons."
"You do now," Valaithe purred from the fire's edge.
She stood, slow and sinuous, brushing her robes into place with far too much grace for someone who had just been sleeping.
Her smile was polite.
Deadly.
"We're not in your chapel anymore, holy girl. This ground answers to the one you're staring at."
"And we don't share."
Rein hadn't moved. Not when Zeraka stepped in front of him.
Not when Valaithe rose.
Not even when Elaris came to stand beside Caelia, blade sheathed but presence sharp.
But when Iris finally spoke, the quiet cut through everything.
"What are you really here for?"
Her voice was calm. Not accusing.
Just certain.
"No one sends the Chain unless they're afraid the lock's already broken."
Caelia's fingers tightened over her knee.
Still kneeling.
Still staring at Rein.
"I'm not afraid of him."
"Then you're a fool," Iris replied.
Rein finally exhaled.
The weight of all of them pressing against each other—not just in proximity, but in purpose—was starting to crush the space around him.
He stepped forward.
Put a hand on Zeraka's shoulder.
Her skin was hot, twitching under his palm, but she didn't pull away.
"Let her speak."
Zeraka growled low in her throat, but backed up half a step.
Valaithe sighed, dramatically, and swept herself to sit on a nearby stone, legs crossed like a queen watching peasants bicker.
Elaris remained still.
And Iris just… watched.
Caelia finally stood.
She didn't unbind her sword.
But she reached up and undid the leather strap across her chestplate, letting her armor fall slightly open at the collar, enough for the cold to kiss her throat.
A gesture of peace.
Or vulnerability.
"I was told you had begun to gather them," she said to Rein.
"That you'd seduced the Blade. That you were corrupting the Hearts. That you were dangerous."
Her voice didn't shake. But her eyes did.
"But none of them spoke of this."
She looked around the ruin—the warmth of the fire, the tangled mess of half-sleeping affection, the way Zeraka lingered just close enough to Rein's side to stake a claim without touching him.
"None of them said you looked like a man they'd die for."
Rein frowned.
"Why are you still here, Caelia?"
She blinked.
For a moment, her composure faltered.
Just for a second.
"Because I think I was sent to stop a monster."
"And I'm not sure I didn't find… a home."
No one spoke.
Zeraka's tail curled tighter.
Valaithe tilted her head, curiosity flickering like candlelight.
Iris's steady hand never left her broken blade.
And Elaris stepped back—just one pace—but her lips parted.
A breath caught.
Rein looked at the paladin.
Looked at the space between them.
At the first crack in her voice.
And said softly, "You can stay."