CHAPTER 45: BATTLE’S OVER

Edward, however, didn’t have long to dwell on that single thought as Aeris’ voice snapped him from his musings.

"Are you okay?" she asked, concern threading through the calm of her tone.

Before Edward could answer, Seraphine piped up, smiling brightly.

"Yes! Edward kept me safe!" She pressed closer, her small arms wrapped around his.

Aeris’ gaze lingered on the girl’s embrace for a fraction of a heartbeat before she looked away, her face unreadable.

"I see," she said softly, then, after a pause, she turned her eyes back to the battlefield.

"What about you?" Edward asked, glancing at her.

"I’m fine," she replied, brushing imaginary dust from her sleeve. "A few light bruises, but nothing serious."

"...They must’ve known we were coming," Aeris added, eyes scanning the wrecked ground, charred marks from spells and the crushed stone from the battle still evident.

"Yes," Edward said, his mind still turning over the events of the fight. The sudden rank-up, the evolutions, the strange absence of a leader—he could feel that instinctual, investigative tug again. Something didn’t feel right with him.

At that moment, the Prince approached.

Arthur’s presence was calm but commanding, his royal guards methodically tending to the bodies of their fallen comrades. The golden gleam of his armour caught the flickering torchlight, shadows dancing across the battlefield.

"Edward..." the Prince began, his voice low, but his gaze shifted toward the array of summoned figures standing silently behind Edward.

Recognising the question in the Prince’s eyes, Edward gave a subtle mental command and dismissed all the summons at once, their shadowy figures fading to nothingness.

"Those are my summons," Edward said, meeting the Prince’s curious look. The young heir tilted his head, weighing whether to probe further, but decided against it.

"Somebody must’ve stolen the Chief’s envelope," he said after a moment, voice quiet. "There were two copies of it. One I passed to you, one to the chief himself."

Edward nodded.

He figured as much, but the question nagged at him—when had it been taken? And how? He kept the thought to himself, eyes sweeping the battlefield once more.

"...But at last, it’s over," the Prince added, turning slightly to glance over the aftermath.

"It seems our opponents underestimated us. Their trap failed." A faint smile touched his lips, a subtle but unmistakable relief washing over his features.

"Did they?" Edward muttered under his breath, as if unsure of his own unease.

"Oh?" The Prince raised a brow, clearly intrigued.

"Just a bad premonition..." Edward continued with a hint of hesitation.

"But... don’t you think there was no leader? No one directing their charge?"

The Prince blinked, confusion sharpening his expression.

"I don’t understand. Are you suggesting they let over thirty of their men die for some larger scheme?"

Edward lingered on the thought. He didn’t have evidence—only instincts that prickled at his skin. Something in the way the battle had unfolded didn’t sit right. "Not sure," he said finally.

"I’m sorry, Edward," The Prince said, his tone softening, almost regretful.

"But I have responsibilities as an heir to the throne. I can’t linger in Ashenhold any longer. I believe you may be overestimating our enemies, but whoever is elected as the new chief will be sure to assist in investigating any Crimson Oath activity."

Edward raised a brow, curiosity flickering across his face.

"Does that mean you’re going back to the Capital?" he asked.

"Yes," Prince Arthur confirmed.

"After my people finish burying our fallen soldiers, we will leave immediately. The King will be pleased with today’s victory. I will ensure he knows of your contribution."

Edward nodded quietly. No words felt necessary. The Prince gave a brief nod in return and strode away, his presence as steady and commanding as ever, leaving the young group to their thoughts.

"You don’t think this is it?" Aeris asked quietly, having overheard the conversation.

"I’m not sure," Edward replied. His gaze lingered on the battlefield, the scattered corpses and scorched earth, the charred remains of the traps, and the eerie absence of a commanding hand guiding the attackers.

"Am I overthinking it?" he wondered silently.

Then, a sudden tug at his arm broke his thoughts.

"We should go home... I’m tired," Seraphine said with a long, audible sigh.

Edward blinked, finally registering the girl clinging to him. Her arms were still wrapped around his arm, and in that instant, he also noticed Aeris—tall, composed, but visibly exhausted.

"Yeah... let’s go," he said after a long and visible exhale. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he allowed himself to be guided away from the battlefield.

The moment the trio stepped out of the chamber and left the cave behind, they were met by the cold night air.

It bit sharply at their skin, nipping at fingers and cheeks. They quickened their pace as if trying to escape the biting cold.

Soon enough, they left the endless forest and entered Ashenhold. Their footsteps echoed across the empty streets, as no one but them was out at this hour.

Edward kept a watchful eye on both Seraphine and Aeris as they moved, noting the slight limp in Aeris’ stride and the way Seraphine shivered at the cold, despite her efforts to hide it. The chill seemed to push them forward, each of them almost racing to reach the townhouse.

When they arrived, a wave of warmth hit them like a welcome embrace.

The familiar comfort of home, the soft glow of lamps, and the scent of aged wood were a stark contrast to the cold desolation outside.

Exhausted, they climbed the stairs in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, the events of the battle replaying in fragmented flashes.

At the top, they parted ways without a word.

Seraphine disappeared to her room with a quiet sigh, Aeris following shortly after, her posture still rigid from tension, leaving Edward alone.

He closed his door behind him and leaned against it, letting out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

Then—a soft, deliberate knock at the door cut through the quiet, snapping him away from his exhaustion.

Curiosity mingled with confusion, and without delay, he twisted open the door’s handle.