The four kids were in the next tent

over, lights still on-clearly not

asleep yet. Outside, their scar-faced

protector sat by the campfire,

keeping watch like always. The kids

had begged him toe inside and

rest with them, but he wouldn''t

budge. He''d been that way since

they arrived.

Tarquin decided not to go straight to Evan. Instead, he greeted the man first,

"Evenin'', Pops."

He was following Elysia''s lead. She''d

told him the man was Bernard''s old

apprentice and Evan''s mentor, so

out of respect and a touch of

warmth, they called him "Pops"a

way to wee him into their

family.

The scarred man looked at Tarquin, a little unsure. He wasn''t used to being called

"Pops." It made him happy, but he still felt awkward about it.

His whole life had been one long

struggle, especially after his mother

passed. Not a single easy day since.

No friends, no family, nothing but

survival and the heavy weight on his

mind.

It was a miracle he''d made it this far.

And now, suddenly, he had people who cared. A family. It was all new to him, and

he didn''t quite know what to do with it.

Still, the way he looked at Tarquin now—there was no coldness or suspicion left.

"Evan''s still up," he said, guessing why Tarquin hade.

"I figured," Tarquin replied. "Why don''t you get some rest? I''ll take the first watch.

You can switch with me halfway through the night."

The old man started to protest, but Tarquin cut him off, "Elysia''s orders. If I don''t

listen, she''ll give me hell."

The old guy hesitated, his lips twitching, but finally just climbed up into the tree

nearby to catch a nap. He was used to sleeping rough and didn''t like sharing a

tent anyway.

Tarquin understood. He didn''t push it.

And with that, he headed off to find Evan, questions burning in his mind.