ROLFE: Heir to the ancient throne

Episode 7

The rain started again before dawn, as Rolfe led the way, his jaw tight and eyes alert. Behind him, Elisa assisted Jarvis over a fallen log while their breaths misted in the chilly air. They had been running since nightfall, catching only quick naps among the trees. The sound of footsteps chasing them had faded hours ago, but none of them thought it was truly gone. 

When they caught a faint whiff of smoke, Rolfe halted. “Someone’s close by.” 

Elisa glanced up cautiously. “It might be a trap.” 

He shook his head. “No. It feels… familiar.” 

Before she could ask more questions, he moved ahead, pushing aside wet branches until they reached a small clearing. There stood an old hut made of wood and stone, partially hidden by creeping vines and leaning pines. Smoke gently rose from its chimney. 

Elisa frowned. “You’ve been here before.” 

Rolfe nodded once. “No, but it looks familiar. Like Mira’s hut.” 

Jarvis let out a shaky breath. “The witch.” 

“She’s not a witch,” Rolfe replied, but even as he said it, he questioned his own belief. Because that was definitely a different location from the one he left days ago with Elisa.

Mira stood at the doorway when they got closer, her cloak pulled tightly against the rain. Her eyes grey and ancient like always watched them without any sign of surprise. 

“I knew you’d come this way,” she spoke softly. “You always move in circles when fate is after you.” 

Rolfe stepped forward. “You saw what happened.” 

“I see everything that matters,” she answered. “Including your foolish choices.” 

Rolfe's anger flared up. “You told me not to return, but my brother ” 

“He is still alive,” she cut him off, “and you will endanger him if you try again.” 

Elisa looked back and forth between them, feeling the heavy history in Mira's words. “You knew this would happen, didn’t you?” 

Mira turned her gaze to Elisa. “I knew something would occur. I warned him. He picked blood over wisdom.” 

Rolfe clenched his fists. “What do you want me to do? Run north while my brother rots in Jeras’ cell?” 

“Yes,” she replied simply. “Because what is hunting you now is more powerful than any man or chief.” 

He stared at her, feeling frustrated and doubtful. “You speak in riddles. Explain what you mean!” 

Mira's face relaxed just a little. “You weren’t born in Rockwyn, Rolfe. You were put there by people who are no longer alive. The old chief knew this and tried to keep you safe. But fate is stronger than any protection.” 

Before Rolfe could respond, Elisa suddenly lifted her head. “Listen.” 

At first, they heard a faint sound a steady thumping of boots on the wet ground. Many of them were coming closer. 

Rolfe muttered a curse under his breath. “They’ve found us.” 

Jarvis staggered over to the window. “They’re spreading out among the trees. And there are dogs, too.” 

Mira remained still. Her gaze turned distant as she whispered words none of them could understand. The air inside the hut changed it became thicker and colder, with a low hum. She faced them and said, “Stay quiet. Don’t breathe or talk.” 

As soon as she finished speaking, it felt like the world folded in on itself. A strange shimmer appeared in the room, distorting the air and making the walls look blurry. Rolfe blinked, and suddenly the hut felt empty. He could still see the walls but only faintly, as if he were looking through smoke. 

Meanwhile, men rushed into the clearing surrounding the hut.

“There!” one shouted. “Look at the smoke from the chimney!” 

Another voice yelled, “Search the place!” 

They burst through the door right past Mira, who stood invisible before them. Rolfe gasped, his body frozen in place as they entered, ripping apart shelves and knocking over jars while complaining about the scent of herbs and burnt sage. 

“There’s no one here,” one of the men said quietly. 

The captain frowned. “There are no footprints leading away either.” 

“Witchcraft,” another man whispered angrily. “This is her hut, right?” 

The captain's jaw clenched. “Burn it down.” 

Mira barely moved her lips, becoming visible to the men. “Not today.” 

The torches the men held flickered out one by one, plunging them into sudden darkness. They stumbled back in fear, mumbling curses. 

“Report to Chief Jeras,” the captain ordered sharply. “Tell him the witch is hiding the boy. We’ll bring her to him.” 

Just like that, they left taking Mira with them and dragging her through the rain as the hut shimmered around Rolfe, Elisa, and Jarvis like a fading dream. 

When the spell finally ended, Rolfe gasped as if he had just come up for air. 

“Mira!” he yelled, rushing to the doorway. 

But the clearing was now empty; only boot prints in the mud remained, along with a faint smell of smoke lingering in the air. 

He stood in the rain outside the deserted hut, his fists tight and his heart weighed down. 

Elisa placed her hand on his arm. “She gave us time.” 

Rolfe remained silent, staring north at the faint silhouette of mountains hidden in the mist. 

“She told me to go to Corville,” he finally said. “So that’s our destination.” 

Elisa's voice shook. “What about your brother?” 

Rolfe's face grew serious. “I’ll return for him. But I won’t be the same.” 

Then they turned north and started walking. 

***

Back in Rockwyn, the warriors brought Mira before Jeras. She walked without resistance, holding her head high while ropes binding her wrists glowed softly with charm symbols measures against any magic she might use. 

Jeras sat in the great hall, his face as hard as stone. 

“So,” he said as they forced her to kneel. “The witch hides my enemies.” 

Mira looked up at him. “You should be more careful about who you make your enemies, Jeras, son of Wold. You’re battling something you don’t fully understand.” 

He smirked coldly. “I know enough. You’ve helped that boy escape twice because you know what he really is.” 

“I know what you're not,” she replied quietly. “You aren’t the man your father was, and you’ll die trying to prove otherwise.” 

The warriors flinched at her words, but Jeras stepped closer, crouching down to her level. “Tell me, Mira… what makes the boy so special? Why did the old chief choose him over his own kin?” 

Mira held his gaze steadily. “Because fate doesn’t care about bloodlines.” 

Jeras’ smile vanished. “Do you think your tricks will keep you safe from me?” 

“I don’t need safety,” she said gently. “But you do.” 

For the first time, Jeras paused. The torches along the hallway flickered, and shadows deepened around them. A slight chill filled the air. 

He stood up straight and signaled to his men. “Take her to the tower. Keep her tied up. No one goes near her without my order.” 

As they pulled her away, Mira said with an almost melodic tune and no sign of fear.

“You can chain me, Chief of Ashes, but the blood you seek will burn through your walls.” 

Her words lingered in his mind long after she had left, re

sonating through the hall like a curse that wouldn't disappear.