“That’s not?—”
“It is exactly what would happen, and we both know it.” He turned back to the cargo straps, checking them again just for something to do with his hands. “The Grorn tracked us to Bragar’s Rest within hours. They have sources everywhere. Staying in one place isn’t safety—it’s painting a stationary target.”
Silence stretched between them, broken only by the hum of the ship’s environmental systems and the distant sound of waves crashing against the cliffs outside. Then Athtar sighed, his heavy hand turning Doren around whether he wanted to face this conversation or not.
“I’ve never seen you look at anything the way you look at those two.”
He met his friend’s eyes, searching for mockery and finding none. Just that unsettling sincerity that Athtar wore so uncomfortably.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I’m asking you what happens when you have to choose.”
The question hung in the air like smoke.
He turned away, moving to check a completely unnecessary gauge on the wall. “It won’t come to that.”
“It always comes to that. Sooner or later, life forces us to decide what matters most. The question is what you’ll do when the moment arrives. When you’re standing at those mythical gates with the prize of a lifetime in front of you, and they need you somewhere else.”
“You’re assuming that moment will come.”
“I’m assuming you’re not stupid enough to believe it won’t.”
He ran a hand through his hair, his tail curling with frustration. “I don’t have an answer for you. I can’t predict the future, and I can’t make promises about choices I haven’t faced yet.”
“I’m not asking for promises. I’m asking you to fucking think.” Athtar pushed off from the crates and approached again, this time stopping just within arm’s reach. “You’re my friend, you stubborn bastard. I want you to be happy, and I’m terrified that you’re going to throw away your chance because you’re too busy chasing fucking ghosts.”
“The Vault isn’t a ghost. It’s real.”
“Is it? You’ve seen the Serpent’s Maw. You haven’t seen beyond it. And I’ve seen what happens to people who sacrifice everything for a goal they never reach. It’s not pretty.”
The words struck deeper than he wanted to admit. He thought of all the nights he’d spent poring over ancient texts, all the credits he’d burned chasing leads that went nowhere, all the relationships he’d abandoned because they got in the way of his search. His entire adult life, filtered through the lens of a single obsession.
And now there was Emma. Emma with her warm brown eyes and her stubborn courage and her absolute certainty that he was worth more than he believed. Emma, who looked at him like he was already enough—not because of what he might find or what he might become, but simply because of who he was.
The feeling terrified him.
“I hear you,” he said quietly. “I do. But I’m not ready to give up the search. Not yet.”
“I’m not asking you to give it up. I’m asking you to be prepared for the possibility that something matters more.” Athtar clasped his shoulder, a warrior’s gesture of respect. “And I’m asking you to protect them. Not just from the Grorn, but from yourself.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means don’t drag them into danger for the sake of your fucking obsession. If the hunt gets too risky or if the odds turn against you, let it go. Walk away. Choose the life in front of you over the legend in your head.”
He wanted to argue. He wanted to insist that he could have both and that he wouldn’t have to sacrifice anything. But the wordsdied in his throat, strangled by the uncomfortable suspicion that Athtar might be right.
“I’ll try,” he managed.
“That’s all I ask.” Athtar released him and stepped back, his expression shifting to something more familiar—gruff affection barely masked by irritation. “Now get out of my docking bay before I change my mind about letting you leave.”
“Letting me? I’d like to see you try to stop me.”
“Don’t tempt me.” But there was a smile tugging at the corner of Athtar’s mouth. “Faith packed supplies for you, enough to last you several standard months if you’re careful.”
“She didn’t have to?—”
“She wanted to. And you know better than to argue with her.” Athtar moved towards the cargo hold exit, then paused, looking back over his shoulder. “Be careful.”
