Haise let out a slow breath and finally took Arno's hand, his palm warm, steady, grounding. The pull was firm, dragging him back to his feet like the conversation hadn't just scratched at something raw in his chest.
He hadn't quite found his balance when the flap of the tent shifted.
A young woman stepped inside, her red hair catching the low firelight as it spilled across her shoulders in uneven waves. She didn't hesitate, her eyes locking onto Arno the second she entered. "You're needed."
Arno didn't even turn fully to face her. His answer came like he'd already known what she was here for. "I'll go alone."
His hand patted Haise's shoulder once before stepping past him. "You," he said over his shoulder, "you'll go with her. She'll get you settled."
Haise blinked, already trying to keep up. "Wait, what? You're just leaving me with-"
"Barracks," Arno cut in, already halfway out the tent. "She'll handle it."
And then he was gone.
The red-haired woman, apparently unconcerned by the abrupt handoff, crossed her arms and let out a soft sigh. "So, you're the new one."
Haise straightened, feeling oddly like a stray dog being shuffled from one owner to another. "Dorian," he said, the name still sitting strange on his tongue.
She cracked a small smile. "Roxiana."
Her hand didn't reach for his, no formal greeting, just the name, tossed out like it didn't need ceremony.
"Come on," she said, already turning. "The barracks aren't far."
Haise hurried to catch her pace, falling in just a step behind.
The camp hadn't settled, not even at this hour. Flames danced in scattered clusters, casting long, shaky shadows over the worn faces gathered around them. People lingered in loose knots, voices low, some chewing through what scraps they'd found, others already sunk deep into whatever rough brew they could get their hands on. The heavy scent of smoke and charred meat hung over everything, clinging to his tongue, scratching at his throat with every breath he pulled in.
His eyes drifted to Roxiana as they walked. She moved like she knew every crack in the dirt, every frayed rope tied to every tent pole. Like this was home.
"What… what exactly is this place?" Haise asked, his voice quieter than he meant.
She kept walking, not rushing her answer.
"We're nobodies," she said, voice plain, not a hint of shame. "Just nobodies who found more nobodies. It's all we've got."
The words sat heavy in his ears. Simple. Brutal.
He almost asked more, but something in the way she said it made him think she wouldn't be able to give him a better answer. Or maybe she already had.
They reached a long, low building tucked near the edge of the camp's wooden walls. Roxiana rested a hand on the door.
"This is it. Men's quarters. I'm not allowed past here."
"Thanks," Haise said, pulling the door open.
"Don't get yourself killed too fast, alright?" She smiled, faint but not mocking.
He watched her turn away, her hair vanishing into the web of tents.
Stepping inside, the air shifted. Cooler, heavier. The sound hit him next, raised voices echoing from somewhere deeper in the building.
He followed the noise through the narrow hall, each step crunching lightly on the dirt-packed floor.
The argument came into focus as he rounded the corner into the main room.
Five heads turned his way.
The faces blurred at first, but his gaze snagged on one he recognized.
Adrian. The archer who'd aimed an arrow at his skull not that long ago.
Adrian wasn't alone. He stood tense, locked in a heated back-and-forth with a shorter boy, his orange hair bright even in the low firelight. The kid looked maybe a little younger than Haise, though the way he was puffing his chest out made him seem like he thought otherwise.
The orange-haired boy was the first to react. His grin spread like he'd just won some private bet. He jabbed a finger in Haise's direction.
"See? Told you Arno dragged him in. You're eating your words now, huh?"
Adrian's expression darkened, his jaw tight. "Karsen, one more word and we'll see who needs replacing."
Karsen just laughed, unbothered, and strolled straight over to Haise. Before Haise could step back, Karsen's arm looped lazily around his neck, pulling him in like they were old friends.
"From the looks of you, you don't seem that useless," Karsen said, his smirk practically stitched onto his face. "I can see you fitting in here. You've already got Adrian shaking."
Haise shifted, trying to peel the kid's arm off, but Karsen's grip stayed annoyingly snug.
Adrian's fist tightened at his side, but he didn't move, his silence louder than any threat.
Before Haise could push Karsen off, another voice slid into the mess.
A deeper one. Calm. Tired.
"Do you two ever shut up?"
Footsteps sounded behind Haise, and Karsen finally let go, stepping aside just in time as Arno's hand settled on top of his head with casual weight.
"Bedtime," Arno said, ruffling Karsen's hair just enough to annoy him. "Neighbors already complain too much. Don't give me another reason to chase you both out."
Karsen grumbled under his breath but didn't argue. Adrian, still fuming, turned away, muttering something Haise couldn't catch.
Arno's attention drifted back to Haise. "Don't worry about them. Things'll settle."
Haise crossed his arms. "What exactly is this place?"
"Home, for now." Arno didn't offer more. He just smiled faintly, like the weight of the whole camp sat somewhere behind his ribs and he'd gotten used to carrying it.
His hand clapped Haise's shoulder, a little firmer than before.
"Rest up, Dorian. Tomorrow's pace won't be this easy."
There was something about the way Arno said it. Like he already knew how wrong that would turn out to be.