THE WEIGHT OF NAMES

📖 CHAPTER TWO: The Weight of Names

POV: Ron

The inn smelled of wet wood, cheap ale, and smoke that never quite left the walls. The fire in the hearth spat and crackled like it was trying to be heard over the storm. Outside, rain lashed the shutters with fury. Inside, silence pressed thick between two strangers who were now—by some cruel twist of fate—traveling companions.

Ron dragged off his soaked cloak and wrung it out, water pooling at his feet. Across the room, Kael sat hunched in the corner near the fire, eyes shadowed beneath the fall of dark hair. He looked like a warning carved in stone: still, sharp, and meant to be left alone.

But Ron never had much luck following warnings.

“You always glare at people like that,” he asked, breaking the quiet, “or am I just lucky?”

Kael didn’t move. “You talk too much.”

“That’s what my commander used to say,” Ron replied with a lopsided grin, walking to the empty chair across from him. “Back when I had one.”

Kael’s eyes flicked up then, briefly. His gaze lingered on the worn military crest sewn into the lining of Ron’s cloak—torn clean through. Recognition? Maybe. Or just curiosity.

“Exiled?” Kael asked, voice soft but not gentle.

Ron shrugged and sank into the chair. “Depends who’s asking.”

“I’m not the law.”

“Good,” Ron said. “Because I’m not in the mood to be arrested tonight.”

Kael’s lips twitched. Not quite a smile—something more bitter. “Why were you exiled?”

Ron leaned back. “Killed a man I wasn’t supposed to.”

He expected Kael to ask for more. Instead, the mage simply nodded, as if that made sense.

“You?” Ron asked. “What’s your story, ghost-boy?”

Kael stared into the fire. The flames painted his face in shades of regret.

“I burned a chapel to the ground,” he said after a long pause. “People were still inside.”

Ron raised an eyebrow. “That true?”

Kael looked at him then—really looked. “Would it matter if it wasn’t?”

They held each other’s gaze for a beat too long.

Ron didn’t look away. “No.”

Neither of them spoke for a while. The fire crackled. Thunder rolled across the sky. Somewhere, wind howled like something ancient was trying to claw its way into the world again.

“Why did you do it?” Ron asked eventually.

Kael didn’t answer.

He stood instead, slow and deliberate, and walked to the window. Rain blurred the glass, but his eyes were fixed on something beyond it.

“They were going to hang a child,” he said finally, voice thin and worn. “Said she had magic. Said she needed to burn.”

Ron stood too, slowly, jaw tight.

“And you stopped them,” he said.

Kael didn’t nod. Didn’t move. Just whispered, “I lit the fire myself. That makes me no hero.”

“No,” Ron said quietly, “but maybe it makes you human.”

Outside, a bell tolled. Faint. Hollow. One chime. Two. Then silence.

Kael turned sharply. “Get your things. We leave before dawn.”

Ron smirked. “You always order people around like that?”

Kael’s eyes gleamed—silver in the firelight. “Only the ones who won’t shut up.”