“Are you trying to skip dinner and get thrown into these bushes right here, right now, Guide Fenn?” She smiled. “Because that’s exactly what’s going to happen if you pull something like that again.”
Fenn paused, his eyes drifting thoughtfully to the nearby bushes as if genuinely considering it. Then, with a low growl rumbling from his chest, he turned back to her. “After dinner.”
Rynna sucked in breath, heat pooling between her legs.
“You’re such a tease.” She turned and started toward the restaurant, feeling his presence at her side almost immediately, his steps falling in sync with hers.
The lanterns swayed gently in the evening breeze, their warm glow spilling amber light across the stone path. Rynna’s fingertips brushed against Fenn’s as they walked, a fleeting connection that sent a quiet spark through the space between them, though their hands never quite joined. Ahead, the lodge rose into view, its shingled roof blending seamlessly with the night sky, stone walls shining faintly from the lantern's glow.
As they reached the door, the haze she often felt around Fenn lifted as her mind shifted back to business. Fenn’s fingers hesitated along the back of her arm as he passed, the brief touch sending a shiver down her spine before he moved ahead to the table.
It’d be nice not to have to hide everything. She exhaled, then followed him to the table.
Inside, the restaurant was alive with the sounds of clinking bowls, the sharp clatter of knifes, and the steady hum of conversation. Their table was already scattered with dishes, some half-eaten, others stacked high with steaming food. Bran sat in the middle, grinning as he tore into a piece of grilled meat, while Taren and Elara exchanged playful jabs, theirforks darting across the table as if it were a battlefield. Plates slid back and forth between them, each trying to claim more than their fair share.
“I’m going to have to sell my quarters.” Fenn sank into his seat with a weary shake of his head.
“What?!” Bran blurted, his words muffled by the food stuffed in his mouth, bits of cheese nearly falling out as he stared at Fenn.
“You all take advantage of your poor Unit Leader,” Fenn said, eye crinkling with mock exasperation as he plucked a piece of venison from a shared platter. He casually dropped it into his bowl and began to eat, maintaining his usual trick of somehow keeping his face hidden behind his mask, his movements smooth and practiced.
Across the table, Elara’s eyes widened, looking genuinely hurt. “I’ll chip in, Guide Fenn. My healer’s stipend has just been sitting around anyway.”
“Wait, what?” Bran spluttered, still chewing, his jaw hanging open. “You get paid to train?”
“Seems unfair.” Taren grabbed another skewer of grilled meat and popped it into his mouth.
Elara leaned back, taking a long sip of water before shooting a grin at Rynna. “Healing is hard work. Why is everyone so jealous around here?”
Fenn finished his bowl quickly, eyes flicking over the group as they continued their usual banter, plates banging as the lively exchange bounced around the table. He wiped his hands and then cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the chatter.
“I’m sure you’ve all heard of the Ascension.” His tone changed.
All of them straightened, the lighthearted mood vanishing instantly as they turned their focus to him.
“The Clash of Chaos?” Taren chimed in. “Has it really been four years since the last one?”
“It has!” Bran's fist slammed onto the table. “And we’re eligible, aren’t we? Oh, Great Elementals. We’re going to be in the Ascension! The battle royal! The greatest of tournaments! A true test of Ember Reach’s strength!” His voice rose with excitement, already lost in his own imagined glory.
As Bran continued rambling, Rynna glanced at Fenn. “What is it?”
“What is it?!” Bran practically yelled, jaw slack. “You don’t know? How is that possible!?”
Fenn turned to her as well, curiosity flickering in his eyes. Rynna just shrugged, grabbing another piece of meat from the table. “I must’ve arrived in Ember Reach after the last one.”
“It’s not just a competition for Ember Reach. It’s a time-honored tradition, a grand display of strength and skill that draws Hollow-born from every Reach to test their mettle. Victory in the tournament brings not only personal glory but honor to one’s entire Reach,” he said. “It’s surprising you haven’t heard of it.”
“I guess it wasn’t a big deal where I grew up,” Rynna said casually, chewing on her food.
“And where was that? Under a rock?” Elara poked her in the arm with a fork.
“It wasn’t a typical village.” Rynna rubbed her shoulder.
Taren looked like he wanted to ask more, his mouth half-open, but Fenn cut in before he could. “Do you all want to spend the evening dissecting Rynna’s barbarian upbringing, or should we talk about whether each of you will be participating?”
“We are participating!” Bran leaped out of his chair, fist-pumping into the air. “Hell yeah!”
Rynna mouthed a quick thank you to Fenn once all eyes had turned back to him and away from her. He gave a slight nod in response before continuing.
