Adam's hand tightened on his dagger as the footsteps grew closer—light, deliberate, unhurried. He raised his free hand in a sharp gesture.

"Alert," he whispered. "Something's coming. Stay alert."

Lilith paused mid-bite, a strip of roasted venison still between her teeth. Juice glistened on her lips, and for a moment she looked utterly un-elegant—cheeks slightly puffed, eyes narrowed in suspicion. She swallowed slowly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, but didn't drop her guard.

Ignis, grease shining on her chin and fingers, froze with a massive chunk of meat halfway to her mouth. Even in her wary crouch, she kept chewing mechanically, golden eyes flicking toward the darkness beyond the firelight. A low growl rumbled in her throat, barely audible.

*Only one set of footsteps,* Adam thought, Tri-Sense painting a clear picture. 'Human. Who the hell wanders alone in these woods at night?'

The figure stepped into the ring of firelight a moment later.

He was an old man—white hair tied back in a short tail, face weathered and lined like old leather, deep creases around eyes that still held a sharp glint. A worn but well-maintained longsword hung at his hip, and his travel-stained cloak spoke of many miles on the road. He carried a walking staff, though he leaned on it more for show than need. Despite the wrinkles and stooped posture, there was a quiet strength in the way he moved—like someone who had seen countless battles and walked away from most.

The old man stopped a respectful distance away, both hands visible, and blinked in mild surprise at the sight of three young travelers eating leisurely around a campfire in the middle of nowhere.

"Ah—forgive me if I startled you," he said, voice gravelly but warm. "Saw the smoke from a ways off and thought I'd check. Bandits have been thick in these parts lately. Didn't expect to find folk enjoying a proper roast."

The moment the stranger appeared, Ignis's killing intent flared—hot, instinctive, almost visible in the way the fire danced higher for a heartbeat. Her golden eyes narrowed to slits, fingers flexing as if ready to shift into claws.

Lilith's reaction was subtler: a faint tightening around her eyes, a barely perceptible shift in posture. But Adam felt it through their bond—the cold, calculating urge to bind and silence a potential threat before it could speak.

'They're not wrong to be cautious,' Adam thought. 'Humans hunted us. Killed our kind on sight. But this old guy… no hostility. No drawn weapon. Just curiosity.'

Before either woman could act, Adam reached out—swiftly bonking Ignis lightly on the head with his knuckles and giving Lilith a gentle but firm flick on the forehead.

"Behave," he muttered under his breath.

Then he stood, brushing his hands on his cloak, and offered the old man an easy smile.

"No trouble at all," Adam said, stepping forward with open body language. "We're just travelers heading east. Plenty of meat to go around if you're hungry. Join us—there's more than enough."

He gestured invitingly toward the fire, where the remnants of the massive stag still sizzled on the spit.

The old man lowered himself carefully onto a fallen log across the fire, keeping his hands open and visible. The flames painted warm shadows across his weathered face.

"Forgive an old wanderer for intruding," he said politely, dipping his head. "I truly didn't mean to disturb your meal."

Adam waved the concern away with an easy smile. "You're not disturbing anything. We've got plenty—join us. The meat's fresh and actually turned out edible."

Old man chuckled softly, patting his stomach. "Kind offer, lad, but I ate not two hours ago in the last village. I'll not rob you of your hard-earned supper."

He glanced around the quiet hollow, expression turning a touch more serious.

"Though I will say this: you three shouldn't linger in these woods after dark. Bandits have grown bold along this stretch of road. They hit caravans by day and lone travelers by night. Safer to camp closer to settled land."

Adam nodded appreciatively. "We appreciate the warning. We can take care of ourselves, but we'll keep it in mind."

Old man studied them for a moment—three young people in fine, clean clothes, no packs, no bedrolls, no visible supplies beyond what they'd scavenged for the fire. His brow creased slightly, not in suspicion, but curiosity.

"Begging your pardon again—I forget my manners sometimes." He placed a hand over his heart. "Name's Philip. Philip Greystone. I hailed from Elden Hollow, a small village about a half day's walk west of here."

Adam returned the gesture. "Adam." He tilted his head toward his companions. "This is Ignis," Ignis gave a quick, slightly stiff wave, still eyeing the old man cautiously, "and Lilith." Lilith inclined her head gracefully, the firelight catching the crimson in her eyes for just a moment.

Philip smiled warmly. "Pleasure to meet you all. Fine names for fine travelers."

He leaned forward a little, resting his elbows on his knees.

"If you don't mind an old man's curiosity… you look like folk of means—those clothes are far too fine for common road dust, and you carry no packs or provisions I can see. Adventurers, perhaps? Or nobles traveling light?"

Ignis snorted softly—quickly turning it into a cough when Adam shot her a look. Lilith simply raised an elegant eyebrow, letting Adam handle it.

Adam shrugged, keeping his tone light. "Something like that. We're traveling east. Decided to move fast and light. Supplies… well, we make do as we go."

Philip nodded slowly, accepting the vague answer without pressing. "Fair enough. The roads are full of folk with their own reasons these days. Some fleeing west from the border troubles, others heading toward them for glory or coin."

He poked at the fire with his staff, sending up a small spray of sparks.

"East, you say? Past Red Hollow Pass?"

"That's the plan," Adam confirmed.

Philip exhaled through his teeth. "Long road. And growing longer the closer you get to the Blasted Frontier. Be wary—the air itself changes beyond the pass. Folks say the war between Solaria and Lord Asmodeus's forces has scarred the land itself."

The fire crackled steadily between them, casting flickering light on Philip's lined face. Adam leaned forward slightly, keeping his tone casual.

"Philip, you seem to know these parts well. What's the situation like around here lately? Any trouble besides the bandits and war?"

Philip poked the embers with his staff, thoughtful.

"This corner of the kingdom is still fairly safe, truth be told. Monsters used to spill out of the wilds more often, but Duke Arkwright's been diligent—sends his knights and hired adventurers on regular sweeps. Keeps the roads mostly clear. You'll see fewer beasts the closer you get to settled lands."

He sighed, gaze drifting to the dark treeline.

"The war, though… that's another story. Still raging hard along the Blasted Frontier. Solaria and Lord Asmodeus's legions tear at each other like starving wolves. No sign of it letting up—rumors say both sides are digging in deeper. Villages near the border are emptying out; folk fleeing west or trying their luck in the cities."

Adam nodded slowly, absorbing the information. It matched what little they'd gleaned from journals. The surface world was fractured, tense—and their path east would only take them closer to the fire.

He was about to ask another question when curiosity got the better of him.

"Not to pry, but what brings an older traveler like you out into these woods alone at night?"

Philip's weathered face softened into a small, sad smile. He reached into his cloak and carefully pulled out a folded cloth, opening it to reveal several delicate pale-blue blossoms—six-petaled, faintly glowing in the firelight.

"Silverveil blooms," he said quietly. "Rare little things. Only grow in old forests like this, under moonlight. The apothecary in the capital says a tea made from them can ease my wife's illness—slow the wasting sickness that's been eating at her body these past months."

The air around the fire grew heavier. Ignis stopped chewing, her usual energy dimming as she glanced at the flowers. Even Lilith's elegant posture softened, a flicker of something almost human passing through her crimson eyes.

Philip tucked the flowers away again, clearing his throat as if to shake off the melancholy.

"But enough of that. No sense souring a good evening." He looked at the three of them with renewed warmth. "You know, my house isn't far—half a day's walk west to Elden Hollow. It's modest, but there's room enough for guests. A proper roof, warm beds, and my Aish makes a fair stew when she's able. Better than sleeping on hard ground with bandits about."

Adam opened his mouth to refuse—politely, but firmly. They had a direction to keep, and entanglements with humans carried risk.

"Thank you, but we're heading east at first light. We shouldn't impose."

Philip waved the refusal away with a stubborn chuckle.

"Nonsense. Aish would skin me if I let three young travelers sleep rough when we've got spare rooms. She loves company—says it keeps the house from feeling too quiet. Besides, Elden Hollow sits right on the trade road. You'll lose no time; you can leave at dawn and still make good ground eastward."

He leaned forward, eyes earnest.

"Please. It'd mean a lot to her—to both of us."

Adam glanced at Ignis and Lilith. Ignis shrugged slightly, wiping grease from her fingers; Lilith gave the faintest nod, her Psychic Speech brushing his mind: 'A roof and information from locals could be useful. The old man bears us no malice.'

Adam exhaled, then smiled.

"Alright. We accept. Thank you, Philip."

The old man's face lit up with genuine relief and pleasure.

"Good lads—and lady. You won't regret it. We'll set off together at first light."

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