From Ruin, a Road

The path ahead was surprisingly easy, considering how far they'd come. River walked with steady, measured steps beside Fiora, who bounced lightly on her feet. The woods around them were quiet, with only the rustling of leaves in the breeze to accompany their trek. Fiora's expression was a tad more carefree, as though the weight of recent events hadn't pressed down on her at all.

They had discovered that the closest town was one Fiora knew all too well—her own hometown, barely half a day's walk from where she was being held captive. It seemed the bandits who’d captured her had unknowingly transported her closer to home, a small irony in their otherwise miserable lot.

“So... you really saved me back there,” Fiora, who seemed to have grown more accustomed to River’s presence, spoke, glancing at River with a mischievous smile. “You're pretty strong. I could use someone like you by my side.”

River gave her an indifferent glance, his eyes half-closed, as if barely bothered. "Well, there’s always someone stronger."

She grinned, a playful look crossing her face. “Say… why don’t you become my bodyguard?”

River scoffed, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Bodyguard? For what, so I can keep you from running into trouble again?”

Fiora pouted in mock irritation. “Well, yeah! I’ve decided what to do for my last year in this world after all.”

River raised a brow, “Have you now, missy?”

“I’m going to travel and see the world.”

There was a silence as her proclamation hung, the only sound that of the breeze and the crunching of boots against gravel.

“You know, for a noble who’s just lost everything she knew, that’s some claim.”

Fiora however didn’t lose her grin as she sighed.

“You know,” she started, voice quiet but resolute, “before all this… before the world started its countdown, I was tied down by my family’s legacy. My noble house. I always thought I’d follow the path they carved out for me—be a good daughter, marry well... It was after the world’s end was announced that I realized… I hated all that. And… I also hated my parents all along for forcing me down a path that wasn’t mine." Fiora shook her head, chuckling lightly to herself. "I always wanted to see the world so badly. To go beyond the confines of that life… but before the prophecy I just… couldn’t.”

River said nothing for a moment, his face impassive as usual. They walked, his steps steady, hers lighter—perhaps in part due to the weight of what she was sharing, but she couldn’t stop herself now.

“I think, deep down, I always knew that if the world ended, I’d regret not having seen it. Now that the end’s out in the open… maybe that’s the only thing left for me. To see what’s out there before it all falls apart."

River remained silent for a moment, his expression unreadable yet his eyes showed a quiet form of respect, “Everyone’s going to handle things their own way. It’s up to you to choose what to do with your time.”

Fiora’s eyes narrowed, her curiosity piqued. “What about you, mercenary? Aren’t you going to chase an oath? You at least look strong enough to—”

“I don’t care about surviving, missy.” River’s voice was low, almost cold. “I’ve got unfinished business. That’s all I need.”

Fiora absorbed the words, though her thoughts lingered on them longer than she expected.

“I see. I guess we both have our own reasons to keep going, huh?”

With a grunt, River pushed forward. “Something like that.”

✾

As they walked, the familiar sight of Fiora’s hometown, Lorenzia, emerged on the horizon. She didn’t say anything, but the tension in her posture was palpable. It was strange to see her childhood home again, now in ruins. Charred remains lined the streets, the stench of old smoke clinging to the air like a ghost of what once was. The rebels, whose ideology had stolen everything from her, had clearly claimed this place as their own, much as they had her family’s estate.

Fiora stopped in her tracks, her eyes tracing the devastation. "Why would they destroy everything?" Her voice was softer now, a whisper of grief in her tone.

River didn’t miss a beat. “The rebels wanted to take down your father, the duke, sure. But when people think they’re fighting for a cause, sometimes they forget how much damage they can do. The things they destroy? They don’t always need to. But in the heat of it, their true colors show.”

Fiora’s hand clenched into a fist at her side. She couldn’t argue with that. House Di Lorenzo ruled over Lorenzia for years upon years. Everything went through their hands first, but to see the people despised them so…

The two continued into the remnants of the city, River trailing behind as she led them through the streets to her estate. There was an eery silence within the broken remnants of her family’s estate, the grand walls now covered in ash, the once-pristine gardens reduced to scorched earth. Fiora’s heart tightened, but she didn’t show it, stepping carefully through the remains of what had once been her whole world.

“Wait here, I won’t be long. And maybe I can find some sort of payment for you.”

The former noble told River as she ascended the grand staircase, heading towards her father’s office. She took a deep breath as her fingers brushed the cold, soot-covered door frame.

For a moment she expected to find the room just as it had been when she last saw it, her father looking up from his papers towards the door as she entered. But that vision was far from reality. Only some things remained untouched. A few scattered papers here, a letter there, but everything else had been ransacked—her family’s wealth, their name, their dignity, all of it shattered by the rebels.

Her eyes swept across the room, but as she approached the desk, a shadow moved in the corner of the room, too swift to be just a trick of the light.

Before she could react, the figure lunged at her, sword raised high, aiming for her head. Fiora gasped, stumbling back, but she was too slow and the figure impossibly fast. He would kill her, just like the rest of her family had been.

But then, in the blink of an eye, River stepped between them, sword flashing as he caught the strike with a resounding clang.

The man recoiled, eyes narrowing. “Stay out of this, mercenary, or I’ll gut you like a pig too.” he growled, but River’s expression remained cold, indifferent, as he lowered his stance.

“Trust me, you’re not the first to try…” River muttered, sarcasm curling at the edges of his voice.

With a fluid motion, River swung his blade—quick, precise. The man barely had time to adjust before River’s sword met his side, a harsh slash that pushed him back. The figure lunged again, this time aiming for River’s throat, but River was already gone, sidestepping with a swiftness that made the attack look sluggish.

The two warriors danced around each other, swords clashing, sparks flying as their blades met. River’s movements were like water—smooth and fluid, but deadly. Every swing, every step, calculated. The stranger wasn’t far behind, his strikes fierce and relentless, but River was quicker.

The fight moved with lightning speed; River parrying another attack, using his opponent’s momentum against him to send the man stumbling forward. The sword flashed in River’s hand, a clean strike to the chest, a sound of flesh meeting steel that echoed in the room. The man crumpled to the ground with a groan, as the mercenary pulled his blade away.

For a long moment, River stood over the fallen figure, catching his breath, his sword still raised. The man was alive, but not for long. River hadn’t left him much to work with.

Fiora stood, still in shock, as she watched River splash the blood away with a swing of his arm, his face as impassive as ever. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was witnessing something far more than a mercenary’s routine. This was skill—real skill.

River sheathed his sword and turned to Fiora, his eyes meeting hers for the first time since the fight began. “You really have a knack for getting into trouble, don’t you, missy?”

Fiora blinked, her heart racing as she nodded. “And you seem to have a habit of swooping in at just the right time.” She smirked as her nerves began to calm. “What… who was that?”

River didn’t answer immediately. He stepped closer to the body, his gaze lingering on the figure for a moment longer before he finally responded. “Whoever he is, he wasn’t just a bandit. That kind of skill is something you witness when fighting professionals. Professionals that are paid quite well.”

“You mean he wasn’t here just to loot? His presence wasn’t coincidental?”

“Certainly not. Maybe your family had more eyes on them than you thought.”

Fiora shivered at the thought, but pushed it away as quickly as she could. She felt exposed, vulnerable. This was more than she had bargained for.

But she still had to get away. And firstly, she had to collect her things.

As she gathered what little remained, River’s gaze flickered to the papers scattered on her father’s desk. Letters, envelopes… but his trained eyes immediately honed in on one letter in particular. One sealed… with a familiar insignia.

His expression darkened as he walked up and snatched it from the desk, not bothering with politeness. He broke the seal and scanned the contents quickly, his face showing recognition and concern.

“Hey what are you—“ Fiora broke her stride towards him as he saw his fiery glare on the letter. If looks could kill that piece of paper would be lit ablaze by now.

The mercenary however did not elaborate. He simply looked back and spoke flatly, “I’ll be waiting for you outside.”

The noblewoman did not have a say in the matter, so she simply accepted it as fact. She changed her dirty clothes, combed and cleaned her grimy hair, and tied them up like she always wore them. Her fringe fell to the side of her face as she looked at the mirror.

“You should let your hair down more. All the suitors your father will bring would be delighted to see it. And then you’d be making this house proud when you eventually fulfil your duty.”

Her mother’s words came to mind, and something deep within her made her even prouder for defining her wishes, even in such a trivial manner.

After she packed another change of clothes, and her family brooch engraved with the Di Lorenzo symbol, she made her way outside.

There the mercenary, River, was waiting. Waiting to say goodbye.

Or so Fiora thought.

“Hey…” he began, eyes finally amused with her for probably the first time.

“That bodyguard job… you still hiring?”

The noblewoman was taken aback at his change of heart. There was a pause as she realized just what exactly caused that shift. The letter…

“Only if you’re honest with me. What did you see in that letter?” Her blue gaze was resolute as it met his.

The mercenary took it out of his pocket, narrowing his eyes. “It’s addressed to Lothar Vitale. The man I’m hunting. The man I want to kill.”

Amidst the desolate city, and outside the Di Lorenzo estate, the silence stretched far beyond.

“And you won’t tell me why… I presume?”

“You don’t need to know that. Just know that your father addressed him as an ally. A friend even. Which means your connections will get me to him.”

“So you’ll use my name to get to your target?”

“Don’t you wanna see the world?” River rested his palm on his sword’s hilt, “I don’t think you’ll be able to without one of these by your side.”

“I don’t care about your circumstances, mercenary. No… River.” Fiora stepped forward, her small frame contrasting against her growing confidence, “I’ll take you up on that offer. We’re going adventuring. And we’ll hunt down your target while we’re at it too.”

“You mean we’re hunting first, sightseeing second.”

“Sure.” Fiora smirked. She looked between herself and the mercenary and stretched out a hand.

“Ptew!”

Not before spitting on it.

“Completely unnecessary. You must have been misinformed about mercenary etiquette.”

“Do we have a deal?”

Despite his best effort to stay indifferent, River found himself smirking as he met her steady blue gaze.

“We do, missy.”

“It’s Fiora.”

And just like that, their paths entwined—his blade, her name, a journey neither had planned but now shared. With his protection and her connections, they would chase their own pursuits, bound by necessity, if nothing else.

Yet as Fiora glanced at River, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was more than mere chance—that their fates had been set on this course long before either of them had realized.