With the bandits scattering into the distance, Ana and Caden stood amid the remnants of the confrontation, the air heavy with the smell of sweat, smoke and blood. Overturned wagons and splintered wood lay strewn across the ground, crates and barrels spilling their contents in a chaotic patchwork. A merchant, his cloak torn and face smeared with dirt, emerged from the debris, gratitude and disbelief mingling in his wide eyes. "I thought we'd lose everything today!" he exclaimed, rushing to Ana with outstretched hands.

  The aftermath of the battle lay before them, a landscape of disorder and relief.

  Caden stood beside her, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts, the flush of victory bright on his cheeks. Around them, the merchants slowly emerged from their hiding spots, dusting themselves off and blinking as if waking from a bad dream.

  The air was thick with the tension of what had just happened and the unexpected relief of its outcome. Ana felt the tightness in her chest ease, though her thoughts remained a jumble of emotions and plans.

  Ana flicked blood from her blade and sheathed it smoothly, her movements swift and controlled. Caden lingered, holding his sword with a white-knuckled grip, the enormity of what he'd witnessed still settling in. He blinked, trying to reconcile the lifeless body with the person it had been mere moments before.

  One of the merchants hurried forward, his eyes wide with gratitude and lingering fear. He clutched Ana's arm, as if needing to confirm her solid presence, his relief palpable.

  "Wasn't planning on sticking around for the massacre," Ana replied, her tone dry. The aftermath felt heavier than the fight itself.

  Caden listened as a merchant pointed at a map, his excitement spilling over in a rapid flood of words. "Demons, near the border," the merchant reported, his finger tracing a path on the parchment. "We barely escaped!"

  The boy's eyes widened, the breathless aftermath of the fight merging seamlessly with the promise of new adventure. He glanced at Ana.

  Ana's thoughts raced. The mention of demons stirred something deep and urgent within her, a dark current that tugged at her with insistent force.

  Another merchant joined the first, both of them practically buzzing with relief and the prospect of salvation. Their voices were low, urgent, as if sharing secrets that couldn't wait to be told.

  "We must celebrate!" one of the merchants declared, his face splitting into a wide grin. "A feast to honor our saviors and our survival!"

  The announcement rippled through the group, lifting the remaining fear like a fog giving way to sunlight. Merchants who just moments ago seemed paralyzed with shock now sprang into action, righting wagons and gathering spilled goods with renewed energy.

  "Please," the merchant added, turning to Ana and Caden with hopeful eyes. "It's the least we can do. You'll join us, won't you?"

  "We should keep moving," she said to Caden and the merchants. The decision felt inevitable, as natural and necessary as drawing breath.

  Caden's face fell, his earlier defiance replaced by a pleading earnestness. "We should stay," he urged Ana, his voice insistent but tinged with hope. "What if they know more about the demons?"

  Ana hesitated, her resolve battling against Caden's wide-eyed determination. The boy was stubborn, nearly as much as she was. She opened her mouth to refuse again when Ethan's voice slithered into her thoughts.

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  "You're not going soft, are you, Ana?" It was light and mocking, insidious in its familiarity. "This must be some sort of first."

  Her grip tightened around the hilt of her sword.

  "You should definitely decline," Ethan's voice echoed through her mind, a mocking lilt underscoring each word.

  Ana's grip slackened, her decision twisting with defiant spontaneity. She shot Caden a look, part exasperation and part resignation. "Fine," she said, the single word landing like a concession in an unseen battle. "We'll stay."

  The merchants erupted into cheers, their earlier panic now a distant memory in the wake of Ana's unexpected agreement. Jubilant voices filled the air, mingling with the sound of crates being righted and goods collected.

  Caden's face lit up with triumph.

  The evening glow cast a warm light over the hastily arranged camp, where laughter and clinking plates replaced the day's chaos. exotic spices and succulent meats grilling over open flames. The sweet tang of pickled vegetables mingled with the earthy aroma of fragrant herbs and the warm, comforting smell of freshly baked bread.

  Caden hesitated, peering curiously at a plate piled high with food. "What is all this?" he asked, his voice a mix of wariness and intrigue.

  Ana raised an eyebrow, her mouth curving into a sly grin. "Rice dumplings," she replied. "And that's firecracker tofu. Ever had pickled lotus root?"

  Ana snorted at Caden's hesitation. "You're not scared of food, are you?" she teased, poking at the colorful spread with her chopsticks. "You fight bandits but draw the line at a steamed bun?"

  Caden flushed and grabbed a dumpling, nearly dropping it when the hot filling burst in his mouth. "I just thought..." he started, then paused, considering. "How do you know so much about all this?"

  Her grin widened as she skewered a piece of tofu. "I've had my share of odd meals," she replied, her tone nonchalant. But beneath it was a hint of something else—experience and maybe even something like joy.

  Caden sampled a pickled plum, his face puckering with each bite. "This stuff is strange," he admitted, popping another into his mouth regardless. "But it's good."

  Ana smirked, enjoying his cautious experimentation. "Wait until you try the dragon breath peppercorns," she said, pointing to a dish that steamed ominously.

  He sniffed it suspiciously, then reached for it with reluctant curiosity. "What's it do?"

  "Numbs your tongue. Or maybe burns it off."

  Their banter had drawn the attention of the merchant leader, who approached with a wide grin and two mugs.

  "A drink for our saviors," he said, handing the mugs to Ana and Caden. His eyes shone with delight, his energy infectious amidst the cheerful clamor. "The finest plum wine this side of Dragons Castle—and plum juice for the young warrior!"

  Ana took a cautious sip, savoring the sweet tang on her tongue. Caden tasted his as well, his uncertainty giving way to a grin as he drained it in one go.

  "Name's Garin," the merchant declared, sweeping an arm to encompass the bustling scene around them. "And these are my merry men! We're caravaners, yes, but something grander than that today." his accent rolling and guttural, words flowing like desert sand.

  "We're a group with spirit, surviving to trade another day!" Garin added with a laugh. "And now, we're bound for the tournament!"

  Caden's eyes brightened, his curiosity rushing out in a jumble of words. "What kind of tournament?"

  Garin's face split into an even wider grin as he launched into an enthusiastic explanation. "The grandest contest east of the Dragons Kingdom," he said, spinning a tale with sweeping gestures that seemed to paint pictures in the air. "Warriors, mages, and craftsmen from all corners flock to it, their sights set on fame and glory! The city blooms with excitement and gold flows like water!"

  Caden leaned forward, his enthusiasm barely contained. "Have you been there before? Did you see the tournament?" His questions came in a flood, and Garin beamed at the boy's eagerness.

  "I was there fifteen years ago," Garin replied, his voice rising above the din with storyteller flair. He savored the memory like a sweet fruit. "The winner—a wild card, if ever there was one! A half-blood nobody heard of before or after. Fought with fierce skill and sheer audacity."

  Ana listened with feigned disinterest, but her eyes flicked to Garin as he spoke.

  "The winner was a mystery," he began, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper that drew even more listeners. "A masked warrior who appeared from nowhere and claimed victory over the kingdom's mightiest."

  "The word is, the King's own people may have been behind a scheme," Garin added, his voice dropping to a hushed tone that pulled everyone closer. "Rumor has it the champion was part of the King's closest—and some say the prize was decided before the first clash even began."