Chapter 36 : ashes on the road

The convoy moved under a blanket of stars, lanterns bobbing with each turn of the wheels. The horses’ hooves beat a steady rhythm, carrying them farther and farther from the charred remains of the village. Smoke still clung faintly to their clothes, a smell none of them could shake.
Ryo sat on the edge of one wagon, the satchel resting against his thigh. The orb inside pulsed faintly through the leather, its glow invisible to all but him. Every so often, he drew the flap back and peeked inside. The strange light shimmered like a heart beating—but no one else even glanced at it. It was as if the orb existed only for him.
He clenched his hand around it. Why can’t they see?
“Ryo.” Stellar’s voice was low, pulling him back. “You’re pale.”
“I’m fine,” Ryo lied, forcing a nod. “Just… tired.”
 I just died after all.
The wagons jostled over rough stones and snow. Ahead, Seraphine rode at the head of the convoy, her azure cloak trailing behind her like a banner. Kael had been placed in the wagon beside Aldah, the boy restless and stiff-backed, as if afraid that at any moment someone might revoke their promise to take him in.
It wasn’t long before Lyra hopped onto the wagon bench near them, a half-smile on her lips. “Since we’ve got a road ahead, might as well explain what you’re walking into.”
Kael leaned forward eagerly. “The war?”
Dorian sighed, adjusting his glasses as he unrolled a map. His ink-stained fingers traced the outlines of a great river and four quadrants marked with sigils. “Geneva is split into four sides—North, East, South, and West. Once, they were united under a single banner. But now…” He tapped the parchment. “Now, each side claws at the other. The Fourth War Council is what they call it.”
“Fourth?” Ryo asked.
Seraphine’s voice carried from horseback without her even turning. “Because this is the fourth time Geneva has fractured in less than a century. Each time bloodier than the last.”
Lyra leaned closer, whispering like she was sharing gossip rather than dire news. “West Geneva—the side we serve—is holding the line. But North has allied with mercenaries, South with zealots, and East…” She made a face. “East is a nest of secrets and knives. They smile while sharpening their blades.”
Ryo studied the map. “So all of Geneva is at war with itself.”
“Not entirely,” Dorian corrected. “Some still speak of unity. But war profits too many. Supplies, mercenaries, weapons, even mana delivery routes like ours—everything is currency.”
Silence fell over the wagon. The survivors shifted uneasily, their weariness now mixed with dread. The fire they’d fled seemed only a spark compared to the storm they were being drawn into.
Kael finally broke it, his jaw tight. “Then I’ll fight. Whatever it takes, I’ll fight for the side that protects people instead of burning villages.”
Aldah squeezed his shoulder again, but his eyes were dark. “Careful, boy. Words like that make you a soldier before you know it.”
Lyra hummed softly, though her brightness had dimmed. “He’s not wrong, though. The war isn’t going to wait for anyone.”
Ryo’s hand drifted to his satchel again. The orb was warmer now, pulsing in rhythm with his heart. He looked up, half-expecting someone to notice, but no one’s eyes flicked to it—not even Stellar’s, though he sat right beside him.
Why me?
The wheels of the convoy creaked on. The night deepened. And though they were all together in the same wagons, the air was thick with silence, tension coiling like a drawn bowstring. Each person carried their own shadows, but only Ryo carried a light no one else could see.
And it was growing brighter.
---
Stellar’s golden eyes flicked toward him. “You’re restless, little courier.”
Ryo hesitated, then tugged the flap open just enough for the faint glow to spill out. The light shimmered like a hidden star. “Tell me you see this,” he whispered.
Stellar’s ears twitched. His gaze passed over the satchel, then narrowed. “I don’t see anything, Ryo. But I feel it”
Ryo’s stomach dropped. “So it really is only me.”
“Not only you,” Stellar corrected, his voice deep as rolling thunder. “I can feel its weight, though my eyes find nothing.”
Ryo’s hand trembled on the satchel strap.Why me? I’m no captain, no healer, no warrior in this world. I just deliver things… and now I’m carrying something that could shake the entire world.
Ryo stared at the faint shimmer, his throat dry. 
Don't be like that kid, we will survive.
Oh really? 
Worst case, we die in this war—or by his hand. Best case, we somehow end up heroes.
The words settled like stone in Ryo’s chest. He shut the satchel, the glow vanishing with a final pulse. 
I don’t want to be devoured by this thing.
Heh, me neither, figures.
Shut it.
Ryo lifted his eyes toward the convoy. Seraphine rode unflinching at the front, Dorian scribbled by lanternlight, and Lyra hummed softly to the rhythm of the wheels. None of them had noticed. None of them knew.
He glanced around the wagon—Lara resting quietly beside him, Stellar fighting sleep at his feet, Aldah dozing with his head against Vix’s shoulder, Mona staring silently at the passing scenery in solitude, and Kael sitting on the same bench, his gaze fixed in the opposite direction.