The four kids were in the next tent


    over, lights still on-clearly not


    asleep yet. Outside, their scar-faced


    protector sat by the campfire,


    keeping watch like always. The kids


    had begged him toe inside and


    rest with them, but he wouldn''t


    budge. He''d been that way since


    they arrived.


    Tarquin decided not to go straight to Evan. Instead, he greeted the man first,


    "Evenin'', Pops."


    He was following Elysia''s lead. She''d


    told him the man was Bernard''s old


    apprentice and Evan''s mentor, so


    out of respect and a touch of


    warmth, they called him "Pops"a


    way to wee him into their


    family.


    The scarred man looked at Tarquin, a little unsure. He wasn''t used to being called


    "Pops." It made him happy, but he still felt awkward about it.


    His whole life had been one long


    struggle, especially after his mother


    passed. Not a single easy day since.


    No friends, no family, nothing but


    survival and the heavy weight on his


    mind.


    It was a miracle he''d made it this far.


    And now, suddenly, he had people who cared. A family. It was all new to him, and


    he didn''t quite know what to do with it.


    Still, the way he looked at Tarquin now—there was no coldness or suspicion left.


    "Evan''s still up," he said, guessing why Tarquin hade.


    "I figured," Tarquin replied. "Why don''t you get some rest? I''ll take the first watch.


    You can switch with me halfway through the night."


    The old man started to protest, but Tarquin cut him off, "Elysia''s orders. If I don''t


    listen, she''ll give me hell."


    The old guy hesitated, his lips twitching, but finally just climbed up into the tree


    nearby to catch a nap. He was used to sleeping rough and didn''t like sharing a


    tent anyway.


    Tarquin understood. He didn''t push it.


    And with that, he headed off to find Evan, questions burning in his mind.