The air was thick with smoke and tension.
The soldiers at the border camp had barely caught a breath before the enemy struck. It was a surprise attack—sudden, ruthless, and calculated. The roar of war drums echoed in the valley as steel clashed and war cries split the morning fog.
Aaron's heart pounded in his chest as he dodged a spear, his sword barely catching the shaft. He was twelve, but today he fought like a man.
He didn't know where the strength came from. Only that he had to survive. For Aldric. For Evelyn.
Cries rang out, and that's when he saw it—a group of enemy soldiers closing in on one of the camp commanders. The older man had fallen, bleeding and cornered, his sword knocked away.
Without hesitation, Aaron charged. The move was reckless, but instinctual. He deflected a blade aimed at the commander, only to stumble backward from the force. Just as another enemy soldier raised his sword, a blur darted in from the side—
"Oi, you all seriously need fashion tips! That helmet is a disgrace!"
The voice belonged to a boy—perhaps a year older than Aaron, tall and slender with a mop of curly dark blond hair and an arrogant smirk.
The boy swung his blade with practiced flair, knocking the soldier back before winking at Aaron.
"You're welcome."
Together, they fought off the attackers until reinforcements arrived. The commander was hauled to safety, and only then did Aaron slump against a barrel, gasping.
"Not bad for a boy from the country," the other boy said, dropping beside him.
Aaron narrowed his eyes. "I didn't ask for help."
"No, but you needed it." The boy flashed a grin. "Name's Leander Valemont. But you can call me Leo. Everyone does."
Aaron gave a cautious nod. "Aaron Blackthorn."
Leo looked him over, unimpressed. "You don't look like much."
"You talk a lot."
Leo laughed. "You'll get used to it. I'm the best company you'll find in this godsforsaken camp." He leaned in. "And the richest. So, if you're nice, I might even share food."
Aaron cracked a small smile despite himself. "You always this annoying?"
"Always."
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the battle settling in their bones. Then Leo elbowed him.
"You fight well. Brave, even. Reckless, but brave. I like that."
Aaron shrugged, glancing at the chaos still smoldering in the distance. "Didn't have much of a choice."
"We never do." Leo grew serious for a breath. "But sometimes we make the best of it. You and me—we're going to survive this. I can feel it."
Aaron didn't answer right away. But for the first time since arriving at the camp, he didn't feel entirely alone.
The enemy had retreated by dusk, leaving only smoke and ruin in their wake. The sky hung heavy with the acrid scent of burning wood and iron. Soldiers trudged across the churned earth, some limping, others dragging the wounded toward the healer's tent. Blood had dried on Aaron's knuckles. His tunic was torn at the shoulder, but he hardly noticed. All he could think about was the way the commander's body had slumped in his arms and how close it had come to being over.
Leo stood beside him, brushing soot from his coat with exaggerated distaste. "Remind me again, Blackthorn, why I thought joining the army would be a grand adventure?"
Aaron gave him a sideways look. "Because you have more pride than sense?"
Leo grinned. "Ah, right. That."
They stood at the edge of the camp now, a temporary shelter built with rows of worn canvas tents. Smoke curled from the campfires where soldiers tried to cook whatever rations remained unburned. The kitchens had been hit during the raid, and the cooks were furiously salvaging what they could.
The commanders had relocated their base to the northern ridge—a safer elevation with a clearer view of the valley, though the wind there bit colder.
The days in the camp were rough and long. Mornings began before dawn, with drills and sword practice. Afternoons were for patrols or maintaining the outer barricades. Evenings, if quiet, were spent tending to weapons or eating thin stew in companionable silence. But today had changed everything.
Aaron looked out at the torn field. He hadn't expected to face real combat so soon. He hadn't expected the fire or the screams or the way his chest had burned with fear. And yet, when it counted, he hadn't run.
A hand clapped his shoulder—Leo, again. "You did good, Blackthorn. Not bad for a farm boy with hero dreams."
Aaron shook his head. "Not from a farm."
"Oh? Then what? Forest boy? River rat?" Leo smirked, clearly enjoying himself.
"Just a boy," Aaron said simply.
They turned to walk back toward the center of the camp. At the heart of it stood the healer's tent, already overflowing. Men groaned, whispered prayers, and clutched bloodied limbs. Aaron lowered his eyes. He knew some of them by name.
That night, around the campfire, the tone was quieter. No songs or boasting. Just quiet murmurs and the crackle of fire. Leo lounged beside Aaron, poking a stick into the flames.
"Think they'll give us medals for saving that commander?" he asked.
Aaron snorted. "Doubt it. But maybe they'll let us sleep an extra hour."
"You dream too small," Leo said with mock disappointment.
A messenger passed by, calling for a field report. Aaron stood to go, but Leo pulled him back.
"Wait," he said, a little more serious now. "You alright?"
Aaron blinked at him. "Yeah."
"You sure? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Aaron hesitated. "I've seen worse."
Leo nodded, and for once, didn't joke. "Well, if it helps... I've got your back. Even if you're a broody, sword-swinging menace."
Aaron gave a faint smile. "Thanks, Leo."
Meanwhile, far away, in the quiet village nestled by the river and mountain, Evelyn swept the hearth in her aunt's cottage. The same chill wind that stirred the army tents now whispered through the cracks in the wooden walls. Her hands moved mechanically, but her thoughts were elsewhere—on a boy who had gone to war, who hadn't looked back after saying goodbye, but whose absence sat like a stone in her chest.
She looked out the small window. The blackthorn tree outside Aldric's home stood bare, its branches scraping against the glass. And she wondered if he was warm. If he was safe.
And if he remembered her.