Chapter 367: Their Destiny
Alaric and the others pressed onward in silence, the crunch of gravel underfoot the only sound as the forest path narrowed. Lara lagged slightly behind, her gaze constantly drifting over her shoulder. Worry clouded her features; something felt wrong.
Then, through the trees, Aramis and Redon emerged—sweat-soaked and grim-faced—half-carrying a dazed woman and her young daughter. Their clothes were streaked with ash and dirt, their movements weary, but determined.
Logan followed closely behind, his expression hollow. His lips were pressed into a thin line, and his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles had turned white, trembling with a rage barely contained.
Lara hurried to meet them, her voice tight with alarm. "What happened?"
Logan’s breath came in short, uneven bursts. He struggled to speak, his voice shaking. "The villagers came... not long after you left. Someone saw me take you into my home yesterday. Word spread, and soon enough, the village chief showed up at my door."
He swallowed hard, anger and heartbreak twisting his features.
"They came early—too early. The chief said we were harboring fugitives. I told them you’d left the night before, but it didn’t matter. The chief accused us of bringing trouble down on the village. He said if we didn’t leave, the rebels would come and blame them. Then... they burned our house."
Lara’s gaze dropped to the small bundles clutched by the mother and daughter—little more than scraps of clothing. The rest, it seemed, had been left to the flames.
She stepped forward, her voice calm but resolute. "Come with us to Calma. You and your family will be safe there. There’s room, and we need good people."
Alaric looked at Lara gloomily.
Lara turned to him. "What?" she said quietly. "Gabriella needs people we can trust. These are those people." Lara’s voice rose a pitch higher. She thought that Alaric might argue with her.