The Siege of Shadows: Book one

They Return (17)

Two years had passed, and my life had settled into a steady rhythm. By day, I trained the lower-ranking city guards, barking orders and ensuring they were prepared for the challenges of protecting Avila. By night, I served as Lady Lyla's personal guard, my cloak ever-present, my sword always at my side.

I lived alone in a small stone cabin within the walls of the lord's keep. Once used as a groundskeeper's quarters, it offered privacy that the crowded barracks could not. The cabin was simple—a bed tucked into the corner, a table for maintaining my gear, and a hearth where Nox, his coat now scarred but his spirit unbroken, rested after long days at my side.

The solitude suited me. It kept the questions and rumors at bay.

I wasn't the same person who had stumbled into Avila two years prior, bruised and broken in body and spirit. Some of the wounds had scabbed over, but others still festered beneath the surface. I had learned to live with the emptiness, letting it become a part of me, a constant shadow I carried without complaint.

I rarely smiled, and when I did, it felt like a betrayal of those I had lost. Their faces haunted me, lingering in the corners of my mind. Sometimes I welcomed the pain, clutching it like a lifeline. It was proof that they had been real, that I hadn't imagined it all. Other times, it threatened to drown me

Time hadn't healed me. It had only taught me how to function in its absence, how to move through the days without crumbling under the weight of the memories. The vibrant colors of life—the joy, the hope, even the pain—had faded into muted grays

The other knights and guards knew me only as Rowan, the hooded figure who rarely spoke and was always armed. I made no effort to correct their assumptions. Beneath the hood, my identity was mine alone. They thought me a man—quiet, disciplined, and fiercely private. That was enough.

Still, they whispered.

"He never takes that hood off."
"Reckon he's got something to hide."
"Maybe he's scarred or burned."
"Or maybe he's just too pretty to show his face," one would joke, earning a round of nervous laughter.

I paid them no mind. Their curiosity didn't bother me, and their ignorance kept me safe. Only Lord Dayjin and Lady Lyla knew the truth.

The truth didn't feel like much of a secret anymore. It felt like a hollow shell of what I used to be—a girl who had once believed in heroes and happy endings. Those beliefs had crumbled, leaving behind a cynicism that now guided my every thought.

The world wasn't kind, I had learned. It was cruel, capricious, and merciless. Trust was a liability, and hope was a weakness. Survival was the only thing that mattered, and even that felt like a hollow victory most days.

There was no future, not really. Just an endless string of days spent doing what needed to be done, keeping my head down, and ensuring that no one got close enough to see the cracks beneath the surface.

But Lady Lyla had seen them anyway.

Lyla, the lord's daughter, was the only person who saw me without the cloak. She was my charge and, against my better judgment, my only friend. Her warmth and determination reminded me of a life I had long since buried. She understood my silence and never pushed for more than I could give.

Sometimes I envied her—the way she seemed untouched by the darkness of the world, her belief that things could still get better. But mostly, I pitied her for it. She didn't know yet. She didn't see the inevitable truth. The world didn't change, and people didn't win against the forces that sought to destroy them.

They endured.

And for now, that was enough.

It was on a cold, snow-dusted night that a messenger arrived at my door.

"The lord requests your presence in his study," the squire said, his voice shaking as his eyes flicked nervously toward the hood shadowing my face. "Immediately."

I nodded, buckling my sword to my side. Nox whined softly from his place by the hearth, but I gestured for him to stay.

The castle halls were quiet, the torches casting flickering light on the stone walls as I made my way to the lord's study. Inside, a group of knights and high-ranking guards were already gathered around a map spread across the desk.

"Rowan," Lord Dayjin greeted me. His tone was measured, but there was a heaviness to it that set me on edge.

The room fell silent as I entered, the other guards eyeing me warily. They were uncomfortable around me, unsure of what to make of the hooded figure who rarely joined their camaraderie.

"We've had reports," Lord Dayjin began, gesturing to the map. "Caravans disappearing on the roads east of the city. Survivors—what few there are—speak of attacks by enormous wolves. There are rumors of strange lights in the woods and singing that lures travelers off the path."

The words hit me like a blade.

"It's the fae," I said, my voice low but steady.

The other guards exchanged skeptical looks.

"You always say it's the fae," one of the knights muttered. "Ghost stories don't explain missing caravans."

I ignored the remark, my focus on Lord Dayjin. "The signs are there," I pressed. "The lights, the singing—they draw people in. And the wolves... They're not just wolves. They're part of the fae army."

Lord Dayjin's gaze was steady, but I could see the flicker of unease in his eyes. He remembered the day I arrived in Avila, bloody and broken, warning of the fae who had destroyed Winlow.

"There's no evidence yet," he said cautiously. "But I won't dismiss the possibility. Whatever is happening, it's too close to the city for comfort."

"We should send patrols," one of the knights suggested. "Double the guard on the roads and keep a watch on the woods."

"It won't be enough," I said firmly. "If it is the fae, doubling the guard won't stop them. They'll come in the night, overwhelming us before we even know they're here."

The room was silent. My words carried weight, even if they doubted my conclusions.

"What do you propose?" Lord Dayjin asked.

"We need to investigate," I said. "A small group—fast, quiet. We need to find out what we're dealing with before it's too late."

The lord nodded slowly. "Very well. Rowan, you'll lead the group. Take two knights and set out at first light. Report back with what you find."

I inclined my head, my mind already racing with possibilities. If it was the fae, this was only the beginning. Avila could fall as Winlow had.

As I turned to leave, the cold night air greeted me like an old adversary. Snow fell steadily, muffling the sound of my boots on the cobblestones. The city's lights glimmered faintly in the distance, a fragile beacon against the dark.

Above me, the wind carried a faint, haunting melody. It was almost imperceptible, but it set my teeth on edge.

The fae were coming. I could feel it.

This time, I wouldn't run.