Greyrest, once a broken carcass of shattered walls and scattered hope, was beginning to stir. It didn't roar, not yet. But it hummed.
Stone by stone, the southern wall grew stronger. The mansons and builders worked with renewed determination, guided by sketches Ethan had drawn in long nights and sharpened by Elyra's pragmatism. Even the air felt different, a breath held between collapse and resurgence.
But Ethan knew better than to believe a wall alone would protect them. Not in the long run.
He stood at the overlook beside Elyra that morning, watching the workers below. Dust floated through shafts of sunlight, catching on sweat-slick backs and moving hands.
"They're pushing themselves harder," Elyra said.
"They know what's coming. Even if they don't have a name for it yet."
"You still thinking about a formal force?"
Ethan nodded. "A silent one. Not banners and horns. Something... lean. Quiet. Built from talent, not titles."
"You're planning it already, aren't you?"
"I've started watching," Ethan admitted. "And choosing."
Elyra glanced at him, her arms crossed. "You've always been good at seeing people. What you're planning, it's not going to win you many friends on the council."
"I'm not looking for approval. I'm looking for a future."
She was quiet a moment. Then: "If you need help convincing the others, say the word. Just don't lie to them. They're not as blind as you think."
Ethan's gaze fell on the distant hills where Kael's discovery still lay shrouded in secrecy. "There's more to protect now."
That evening, he slipped away from the bustle of the courtyard to a quieter part of Greyrest, the broken east sector. A place of crumbled stone and abandoned homes, where Daisy had first caught his eye weaving through the market like smoke.
She didn't keep him waiting.
Daisy stepped from the shadows, a dirty scarf half-hiding her face, her movements effortlessly cautious. "You sent for me?"
"I did."
"You liked what I gave you?" she asked.
"I did. You're careful. More than that, you're deliberate."
Daisy's mouth twitched. "That's a fancy way of saying I don't make noise."
"It's exactly what I need."
She eyed him carefully, arms tucked under her cloak. "You going to tell me what this is all about, or do I have to guess?"
"You're good at watching people. That's what I want, for now. Watching, listening, mapping. There are things moving beneath Greyrest that haven't shown their faces yet. I want to see them before they see us."
"Spying?"
"Observing," Ethan said. "From someone who already knows how to vanish in a crowd."
Daisy tilted her head. "What do I get?"
"Security. A place in something bigger."
"I don't want your food," she said. "But I'll take the second thing. And I want to pick who watches with me. No idiots."
"You'll get to choose, when the time comes."
She nodded, satisfied. "Good. So... who's next?"
"Someone strong. Quiet. Someone who works alone."
"I've seen one or two," she said. "Give me a day."
As she turned to leave, Ethan called out softly, "Daisy."
She looked back.
"This has to stay quiet. Everything. Not a whisper."
Her grin was crooked, defiant. "Who would I tell?"
Later that night, Ethan returned to the hall of voices, the worn chamber where Greyrest's provisional council gathered once a week. Torches lined the cracked stone walls, throwing flickering light onto tired faces.
"The new wall section passed the last test," a stonemason was saying. "Rain held it firm. No seepage."
"Good," Elyra murmured. "That's something."
Ethan waited until the murmurs died down, then stepped forward. "We're building well. Strong. But walls don't fight. They just delay."
Murmurs stirred again.
"We need people," Ethan said. "A force. Not conscripts with farm tools. Not brutes from the mines. Specialists. Observers. Fighters trained for silence and precision."
"We're not a kingdom," one of the older councilors grunted. "We can't afford knights."
"I'm not asking for knights," Ethan said. "I'm asking for vision."
Another councilor scoffed. "You want to build an army in secret?"
"No," Ethan replied. "I want to build protection. Quietly. Intelligently. People with eyes in the dark and arrows that don't miss."
Elyra spoke up then, surprising a few in the room. "We've all seen what's out there. Raiders. Creatures. The west roads are closed. We need something new. Ethan's not wrong."
The murmuring turned contemplative.
"We don't need everyone's approval tonight," Ethan said. "But I want you to remember this moment. When the shadows reach our doors again, I want us ready to meet them."
He didn't wait for a response. He simply turned and left, the echo of his footsteps the only answer.
Back in the forgotten quarter, Daisy waited again.
"I followed another one," she said when he appeared. "Big guy. Works the edge of the quarry. Carries stone like it's cloth."
"Good instincts?"
"Hard to say," she replied. "He doesn't talk. Eats alone. Sleeps alone. But I watched him stop a fight between two kids today. Quiet. No fists. Just stood there 'til they left."
Ethan considered that. "That's someone I want to meet."
"Thought so."
"And you?" he asked. "You sure about this?"
Daisy leaned against a shattered column, the moonlight casting strange shadows over her face. "People ignore me. That's power. You're just the first to see it."
"And if others start seeing it too?"
"Then I'll disappear again."
Ethan smiled faintly. "We're going to do something dangerous, Daisy. Something that changes things."
She shrugged. "Change is why I'm still alive."
They stood in silence for a while, the city around them shifting in sleep and whisper.
The quiet forge was lit.
And Daisy was its first flame.