Chương 7: Captain Alden POV

The heavy flap of the command tent parted, allowing the crisp, chill air of the frontier to slice through the interior's stifling warmth. Inside, the camp leader sat behind a massive desk cluttered with logistics ledgers, broken monster cores, and blood-smeared tactical maps. He was a middle-aged man, his face a rugged map of deep-set wrinkles and old battle scars, framed by hair the color of iron filings. He didn't look up from his ledger when the canvas rustled.

"Captain, Sir Rakan and Lady Vira have returned," a guard announced, stepping inside just far enough to salute.

"They've brought the vanguard report. And... something else." The commander's quill paused, a single drop of black ink pooling on the parchment. He slowly raised his sharp gaze, the eyes of a veteran who had held this perilous border against the wild for over a decade.

"Let them in," he commanded, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. A moment later, the tent flap opened fully, and the boisterous presence of Rakan filled the space, the giant greatsword strapped to his back catching the flickering lantern light. Beside him walked Vira, her posture straight and formal, her short brown hair still damp from the mist of the riverbed.

"Captain Alden," Vira spoke first, offering a respectful nod.

"The riverbed sector is clear. The Razor-Fang beast that was stalking our supply lines has been neutralized."

"A single strike," Rakan boasted, leaning heavily against a wooden support beam with a grin.

"Though Vira nearly took my head off because I used a little fire to cook it." The Captain didn't smile.

"Good work on the beast. But Boris reported something about a stray. What did you bring into my camp?" He closed the ledger with a dull thud, leaning forward and interlocking his calloused fingers on the desk. Vira's expression softened, but her eyes remained dead serious.

"A child, Captain. A little girl around twelve years old. We found her on the ridge above the rocky bed, and she claims to have no memory of how she got there." Alden's brow furrowed heavily, the lines on his forehead deepening.

"A child? Alone in the Frost-Veil Peak foothills? That's impossible. Not even the local blood-tribes leave their young out there. Are you certain she isn't a Morpher using shapeshifting, or an illusion spun by a high-ranking Awakened in the path of Phantasm?"

"I checked her mana flow myself," Vira insisted, taking a step closer to the desk.

"There's no malicious mana signature. She's completely untainted. Her name is Stelle." The room fell silent as Captain Alden weighed the information, his mind calculating the risks. In a frontier camp like Ember-Watch, a single mistake could cost dozens of lives. Yet, looking at Vira's uncharacteristic defensiveness, he knew this was no ordinary stray. Rakan shifted his weight off the support beam, his boisterous demeanor fading into a rare moment of serious analysis.

He tapped the pommel of his greatsword, his golden eyes locking onto Captain Alden's.

"Vira is right, she's clear," Rakan said, his voice dropping an octave.

"And there's something else. We caught her internal flow while she was on guard. The kid is already a Tier 1 Awakened." The declaration hung heavily in the air. Inside the command tent, the ambient temperature seemed to drop. Captain Alden's eyes snapped toward Rakan, his fingers tightening against each other. To be Awakened meant an individual had formed a core, allowing them to draw directly from the ambient energy of the world. It was a gift of power, but it was also a heavy burden.

For a child who looked no older than twelve to possess a Tier 1 core, and to have stabilized it alone in the frozen wastes, was an anomaly that defied logic.

"A Tier 1?" Alden repeated, his gravelly voice laced with deep skepticism.

"At her age? Rakan, if you're misreading her mana for an awakened core—""I know the difference between flowing mana and an active core, Captain," Rakan interrupted, his jaw tightening.

"When she leveled that little spear at us, her mana core moved. It was faint, completely unrefined, but it was there. She's drawing mana. If she hadn't been, the ambient frost in the mountains would have stopped her heart days ago." Vira nodded in agreement, stepping forward to reinforce her partner's claim.

"It explains how she survived the extreme cold, Captain. Her core must have triggered a primal survival response when she was abandoned or lost in the snow. But she has absolutely no control over it. It's just... idling." Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Alden leaned back in his heavy wooden chair, staring blankly at the map of Valeria stretched across his desk.

An undocumented, amnesiac child who was already an Awakened was no longer just a simple refugee. She was a variable. In the wrong hands, or left to corrupt in the wilds, an unguided Awakened could become a disaster. But under the care of the kingdom, she could be a prodigy.

"This changes things," Alden muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"An Awakened child found outside the Grand Wall will draw a lot of eyes from the Mage Ministry and the local nobles in Oakhaven. If she truly doesn't remember her lineage, she's a blank slate." He looked back up at the two, his decision finalized.

"Tomorrow at dawn, she rides with the vanguard wagon. Vira, you will personally oversee her transport to Oakhaven and hand her over to the Church. Let them figure out who or what she is." The Captain stood up, his heavy chair scraping loudly against the floorboards.

"But before that. If she is truly an Awakened, I need to see her for myself, and judge whether she poses any risk to the other refugees on that wagon. Lead the way, Vira." Vira nodded, though she flashed a quick, warning glance at Rakan, a silent instruction to mind his tone. They turned and exited the tent, the cold night air biting at their skin as they crossed the camp toward the smaller, isolated tent where Stelle was being held.

The camp was quieter now, lit only by the flickering orange glow of dying campfires and the rhythmic patrol of the night guards. As they neared the tent, the two guards stationed outside stiffened and saluted the Captain.

"Anything to report?" Alden asked, his eyes scanning the canvas walls.

"Nothing, Captain," one of the guards replied.

"She hasn't made a sound. We've been watching the entrance the whole time." Alden nodded and motioned for Vira to open the flap. Vira entered first, before Alden stepped inside the small tent, the heavy metallic clink of his chainmail vibrating softly in the enclosed, stove-warmed space. A lifetime on the frontier had taught him to look for threats in every shadow, and his sharp, weathered eyes immediately locked onto the tiny figure sitting by the heat.

She looked entirely out of place amidst the mud and iron of his garrison. Her pristine silver hair and flawless, unique features almost made him pause. But it was Rakan's warning that echoed in his mind... this girl was already a Tier 1 Awakened. Alden stood motionless, deliberately projecting the imposing weight of a commander, his hand resting firmly on the pommel of his broadsword.

He poured his own mana into his upper torso, stabilizing his core, ready to suppress the child instantly if she leaked any malicious or corrupted energy. To his trained senses, her presence carried exactly what Rakan had described. A faint and chaotic flicker, barely there at all, the raw and unrefined signature of a core that had only just begun to take shape. There was no hidden strength coiled beneath it, no discipline, no malice.

Just the still mana core of someone who didn't yet understand what she carried inside her. Rakan's read was accurate, Alden thought grimly. Unrefined, untrained, and completely unguided. Exactly the kind of spark that either burns out quietly, or burns down everything around it. The two adults spent the better part of an hour with her. Alden asked his careful, probing questions, Vira softening each one with reassurance until he was finally satisfied. Whatever the girl was, she was no threat sitting in front of him.

He gave his final approval for her transport to Oakhaven, the same plan already decided in the command tent, and left the details of her care entirely in Vira's hands. The heavy canvas flap swept shut behind them, cutting off the stove's ambient warmth and plunging the two adults back into the crisp, biting air of the darkening frontier. Alden didn't speak immediately.

He walked a few paces away from the tent entrance, his iron-gray cloak billowing slightly in the wind, before stopping near a stack of supply crates. He rested his hand heavily on the pommel of his sword and turned back to Vira, his expression dark and unreadable under the moonlight.

"You're taking a massive risk, Vira," Alden said, his voice dropping to a low, cautious rumble.

"An unregistered Awakened child with no memory, found right on the edge of the Frost-Veil peaks? If the local lords in Oakhaven think she's a discarded high-blood bastard, or worse, a weapon planted by the blood-tribes, they won't just take her in. They'll dissect her life piece by piece." Vira stopped walking and stood firmly, her jaw tightening defensively.

"I know the risks, Captain. But you saw her. She's alone and needs someone to help her. She doesn't even know that she formed a core. If we leave her out here, she'll either starve or get lost. I couldn't live with that." Alden sighed, his hot breath pluming like white smoke in the freezing air.

"I'm not asking you to leave her to die. I'm telling you to be careful. Rakan is broad-shouldered but loud-mouthed; he may already be telling the other soldiers about her. By tomorrow morning, the whole caravan will know we're hauling an Awakened small girl." He stepped closer, his weathered face dead serious.

"When you reach Oakhaven, don't take her straight to the Mage Ministry public hall. Go to the Church of Saint Lilian first. High Priest Malakai owes me a favor from the siege five years ago. He can evaluate her without making it a political circus. He walks the path of the Mystic, and he's reached Tier 4. If her soul is clear, then you can focus on how you will handle her." Vira's eyes softened, a wave of genuine gratitude washing over her features.

"Thank you, Captain. I'll make sure she gets there safely." She offered a formal salute.

"Alright," Alden grunted, turning his gaze back toward the command tent.

"Get some sleep, Vira. The roads to Oakhaven are never peaceful." Vira offered a final, respectful nod before turning and disappearing into the shadows of the camp, her quiet footsteps fading toward her own quarters. Left alone in the biting cold, Captain Alden didn't immediately return to his command tent. Instead, he walked toward the perimeter wall, resting his heavy, calloused hands against the rough-hewn wooden spikes of the palisade.

His gaze traveled upward, past the dark, serrated treeline of the dense forest, locking onto the imposing silhouette of the melting, frozen mountains in the distance. The air was heavy with the scent of pine and coming spring, but the wilderness still felt profoundly unpredictable. He exhaled slowly, watching his breath plume into white mist under the night sky.

"A child out in the middle of a frozen plain..." Alden murmured to the vast emptiness, his voice barely a whisper against the wind.

"Is it just really luck?" Inside the silent tent, the flickering amber glow of the iron stove danced across the canvas walls. Stelle remained completely motionless on the edge of the cot, her knees still tucked against her chest. Closing her eyes, she set her internal systems to a low-power, passive scanning mode, her mind already calculating the variables of the journey ahead.

Outside, the light of the three moons bathed the fortified camp in a surreal glow, casting the shadow of the vast, untamed wilderness over the sleeping soldiers. They had no idea they had just opened the gates for something entirely beyond their comprehension.