Page 31 of A Fate in Flames

A part of me wanted to tell Tavrik everything.About my mother, the bargain, the truth behind my purpose for crossing into the Jinn realm.Maybe having him by our side would help.

But he was still a stranger.

I knew nothing about him beyond the sharp way he carried himself, the small details he shared and the unwavering steadiness in his gaze.He had the quiet confidence of a man who had seen things—done things.He could be anyone.A threat, a liar, a pawn of something greater.A man who snored loudly, as we discovered when he dozed off mid-sentence, his head dropping forward before he jerked awake again, denying he’d been asleep at all.

And yet, something about him was unsettling.

Not out of fear nor suspicion, but an odd sense of familiarity.Like I had known him for years instead of mere hours.Something in the way he held my gaze, his expression patient like he had all the time in the world to listen.

It had been so long since someone had simply listened to me without interrupting every five seconds to add their own opinion, I glanced pointedly at Theo.

I’d spent my life keeping people at arm’s length, burying my fears and struggles beneath layers of silence.That was how I learned to survive.Sort it out yourself.Trust no one.I was my mother’s daughter in that way.

I debated telling him for what felt like forever, staring into the dying embers of the fire, tracing patterns in the dirt with the tip of my finger.Stealing glances at him when I thought he wouldn’t notice.

But he did notice.

As the first hints of morning bled into the horizon, I took a deep breath—accidently swallowed a bug, spent several minutes coughing while both men awkwardly patted my back, and then red-faced and teary-eyed—I told him everything.

If Tavrik was shocked, he didn’t show it.He nodded along, absorbing every word.As soon as I spoke of the vision Zaheera had shown me—the war that was coming—his entire frame tensed.A shadow crossed his face, the gravity of it all bearing down on him.

The silence that followed hung heavy between us, broken only by the occasional chirps of birds darting through the canopy.

Finally, Tavrik met my gaze.Something had shifted in those hazel eyes—a barrier lowered.

“Thank you for trusting me with this,” he said.“Not many would.”

He changed his position against the hard ground, wincing as he stretched out his legs.“I suppose it’s only fair I share something in return.”

Tavrik cleared his throat, glancing briefly at the surrounding trees before continuing.

“I was in the king’s guard for twenty years,” he said, his fingers tapping the ornate hilt of the curved dagger at his hip.The weapon gleamed in the early morning light, its silver blade etched with intricate designs that I’d somehow failed to notice.

“You were a royal guard?”Theo asked, inching closer, suddenly interested.

Tavrik nodded.“I was but—” he paused, his jaw clenched tight enough to grind stones.“I ‘deserted’ them.”

The way he emphasised the word made it clear there was far more to the story.His eyes grew distant, focused on the memories.“Now I have a bounty on my head.That’s why I’m fleeing to the Veil.The mortal realm isn’t safe for me anymore.”

I thought of the brutish guards pushing through the marketplace three days ago, scanning faces with predatory intent.Was Theo thinking about the same thing?

“We saw some guards a few days ago in our village,” I said carefully, watching Tavrik’s reaction.“They were looking for someone.”

He nodded, pressing his lips into a line so tight they nearly disappeared, his fingers unconsciously straying to the dagger’s hilt.

“One in particular wasreallyterrifying,” I added, raising my hand to my own face.“He had a huge scar—” I dragged my fingers dramatically from the top of my forehead down across my eye and cheek, all the way to my neck in a slashing motion.

“Armin,” Tavrik said.“He is one of the strongest, and as unforgiving as he looks”

I snorted.“Well, he was no match for one of the village elders.She took him down with nothing more than an arched brow.”

“I would’ve loved to have seen that,” he said, the tension in his shoulders easing.“Armin’s ego could use deflating.”

“Do you think they were looking for you?”I asked, pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them.

He exhaled sharply, a sound caught between resignation and frustration.“Seems that way.”

It was clear whatever triggered his desertion—whatever he had done or witnessed—would remain locked behind the fortress of his clenched jaw and guarded eyes.