The next few days passed in quiet miles and quiet thoughts.

By the time they reached the outskirts of Green Hills, a modest town nestled between sloping farmland and pine-shaded ridges, the road felt lighter underfoot, though the weight they carried had not lessened.

The last stretch of the journey wound downhill toward Green Hills, a modest town cradled between thick woods and sloping farmland. The road was dusty, the wagon wheels creaking as they passed under the hanging iron sign for the livery stable

Thaler & Sons Live Stable
Horses Bought & Boarded

Joe pulled the reins to a stop and glanced back. “This is the place Paladin Baker recommended.”

The others dismounted, stretching sore limbs and brushing off road dust. Uscoshi wrinkled her nose at the smell of manure, but Kitamar merely raised an eyebrow. “Functional,” she said.

Inside the stable office, the eldest Thaler son, a man with a hay-colored beard and a brass tape measure around his neck, gave the horses a once-over.

“Well-kept stock,” he said, nodding with appreciation. “Bit lean from the ride, but that’s to be expected. I can offer four-eighty for all the horses and tack, another forty-five for the wagon.”

Joe nodded smoothly. “Four-fifty flat, if you can also cover a night’s lodging and food, at the best hotel in town? The ladies, I think, would appreciate a night on feather beds and a chance to take a bath.”

The stableman considered, then extended a hand. “Done.”

Outside, Joseph stood with arms crossed, watching it all. He didn’t interrupt. Joe handled the bargaining like a pro. He was sharp but respectful, confident without swagger. He took the coin, smooth as glass, and tucked the receipt into his vest.

When he returned, Joseph gave him a quiet nod. “You’ve gotten good at this.”

Joe shrugged, but his grin betrayed the pride beneath. “Comes with the trade, Pa. I know how hard it is to get access to your money across borders if you’re not in the Merchant’s Guild. Besides, somebody’s gotta make sure we don’t end up haggling with scalpers at the rail depot.”

Rose raised an eyebrow. “Speaking of which…”

Joe was already ahead of her, striding across the street to the stationmaster’s window.

Ten minutes later, he returned with a neat roll of stamped vouchers and a bag of platform tokens. “All taken care of. First class car too. I figure we’ve earned a soft bench or two.”

Joseph took one of the tickets and studied the fine print, then looked at his son.

There had been a time when he would’ve handled all the arrangements. When the idea of his children paying for anything would have chafed. But now, watching Joe tuck away the receipts and shake out his coat with easy authority, there was nothing but a quiet, unexpected pride. He didn’t say it aloud.

But he smiled.

And Joe, watching him from the corner of his eye, smiled back.

That night, they stayed at the Crosspine Hotel—nothing fancy, but clean rooms, feather beds, and hot baths. Dinner was real food, not trail rations, and even the Dawnstrider cracked a smile when the waiter brought out sugared pecan pie. Joe realized as he watched Ms. Rowan, his mother, and his brother eat serving after serving of the delicious meal, that he really might have gotten the better of the deal with Mr Thayer. Garland, now bandaged but mobile, joined them at the table. Everyone was amazed at his quick recovery. He chewed carefully and grumbled less than usual, though that might have been the willow bark.

“Well,” he muttered to Joseph between bites, “Triangle Garden’s gone. Not much left for me to reclaim. I’ll need to amend my damn, sorry, Mrs. Tharnen, my license again—go through all the Church loops and ladders to refile.”

Joseph sipped his drink, eyes on the window where the stars peeked through a break in the clouds. “You’ll get it done. Just tell them you were nearly killed by a secret faction and a collapsing laboratory. That should count for hazard pay.”

Garland huffed. “If I live long enough to collect it.”

The next morning, they arrived at Green Hills Station just as the train hissed into place. It was a Mercandile Union mainline engine—sleek, polished, and in far better shape than any of the battered iron rattlers used back in Raleigh. The siding was clean, the timetables precise, and the porters wore crisp uniforms. Even the sleeper cars gleamed. Joe couldn’t help but whistle.

“Guess the Dunhavens take their infrastructure seriously,” he said, tipping the porter a coin. He saw the Forty soldiers in civilian dress boarding a third class car further back.

“Or they just know how to make things last,” Rose replied, brushing a speck of dust from her sleeve.

Moments later, the party boarded, and the train pulled out, winding its way into the countryside, its rhythm a steady lullaby of clacking iron and groaning steel. The windows fogged slightly from the chill in the October air, giving the rolling forests a watercolor blur.

They were the only people in the first-class car. Joseph sat near the middle of the car, elbow propped against the window, eyes unreadable. Rose sat across from him, her hands wrapped around a tin mug of tea gone cold. Mercedes leaned with her head against the glass, eyes closed but not asleep.

Mac seemed to be doing better, although the fight at Triangle Gardens had still burned up more of his body mass then Rose said was proper. He and Joe were halfway through a quiet card game on a fold-down tray, occasionally muttering, their voices muffled by fatigue. Kitamar hovered nearby, silently critiquing their plays with a glance. Uscoshi sat beside Mac, turning the pages of a soft-bound journal filled with notes and sketches of the various people in the car.

In the far corner, Garland adjusted his coat and muttered under his breath. A long strip of bandage looped across his ribs, but his color had returned. He caught Joseph’s eye and raised a brow.

“Maybe I should try my luck in Raleigh? If I’m going to keep getting blown up, I ought to see if I can at least make it worth my while — one of the vault cities perhaps?”

Joseph managed a thin smile. “You certainly know how to pick your vacation spots.”

Garland leaned his head back. “At least this trip had better food.”

Bryce stood nearby, one hand gripping a rail. Inez sat beside him, boots stretched out into the aisle, dozing with her arms crossed. He looked down at her, something halfway between gratitude and guilt flickering in his expression.

Dree, Kessler, Miro, and Juno were all in the car with them, as well as the three Varrow sisters.

“I’ve pulled the officers out of the third-class carriage for this trip,” Dree said dryly. “Thanks for providing me with an excuse not to have to sleep on those cushions. We’re going to make sure nothing happens before you’re safely on Church grounds,” Dree told Joseph. “General Order Number Three, after all.”

Rose wrinkled her nose. “What is General Order Number Three?”

At a nod from Kessler, Corporal Varrow spoke up in a pleasant soprano, “Ma’am, General Order Number Three. The primary mission of the Forty is to support General Elias Ward in whatever undertaking he is engaged in. Wherever he is, he will not be alone.”

Joseph’s face widened in surprise. “Who made up that load of goatmilk?”

Rose’s face compressed from a smile at hearing the order to a frown. “Joseph. Language.”

Dree looked sweetly at Joseph. “I believe you’ll have to take that up with the Colonel, General. He implemented that order when he took over the Forty.”

Joseph looked more puzzled. “The Colonel? Who’s that?”

Before Dree could continue, Dorrin came and sat down next to Joseph. “I hate to ask,” he began, “but if we’re going to get this church indulgence form put together as quickly as possible once we arrive in Durleigh, we need to go over everything that led to you and Rose leaving the army. And I mean everything. To make this work, we have to document everything that the Greybacks could potentially use against you. If we address all of it, we can make sure that the indulgence protects the two of you so that you’ll be safe from any attempt to repatriate you back to Granblue. Would you be okay doing this now?”

He waved a hand towards the others. “That is, if you’re comfortable talking about this in front of your children, and everyone else. I suppose we could move to one end of the car and ask them to go to the other end. If that makes you feel more at ease.”

Rose and Joseph looked at each other. Marigold came and sat next to Rose, placing her hand on Rose’s arm in support. The silence held. Then Joseph exhaled—slow and certain.

“They should know,” he said. He’d never wanted them to carry his sins. But if they didn’t hate him, after everything he’d done, then maybe he wasn’t the monster he’d always feared he was.

Joe looked at his parents. Mercedes opened her eyes. Mac paused with a card in hand.

Joseph met their gazes, one at a time. “What we did. And why. About the orders. About why we left. And why we stayed gone.”

Rose reached across the table and laid her hand over his. Not tightly, just enough to remind him that she was there. That she’d chosen this too.

She nodded. “No more secrets.”

So, they told it. Piece by piece. The battles, the choices, the cost. The children Rose couldn’t save. The cities Joseph had been ordered to burn. The promises they made, and the lives they built to keep them.

None of it was easy. Much of it wasn’t clean. But it was theirs.

Mac said nothing, but his hands tightened around his knees.

He wasn’t angry. Just… stunned. As if the last few pieces of a puzzle he hadn’t realized he was solving had finally snapped into place. His parents had always seemed like larger than life, even before he discovered that they were the stuff of legend, stronger than the world around them.

Now he saw the cracks. And somehow, that made them even more real.

Dorrin said nothing for a long while. He’d fought wars and buried comrades. He carried his share of secrets. But what Joseph and Rose had done, walking away from power, from duty, for the sake of love and conscience? That took a kind of strength he’d never claimed.

Maybe the Light really does walk with them, he thought. Or maybe they just found a path no one else dared to follow.

The train kept moving, and outside, the sun slipped lower behind the pines, casting long shadows across the tracks ahead.