The faint drizzle replaced the heavier storm from the night before. Lydus descended the ridge through its main entrance, where jagged mountains parted to reveal the wilderness beyond Orerha’s borders. The muted gray light of dawn cast a glow over the forest ahead, its tangled leaves swallowing what little moonlight remained. It looked more a void than a forest in the low luminance.
His boots crunched softly on the damp ground. Lydus’s posture seemed steady, but his hands flexed slightly at his sides. As he approached the guard post, he nodded at the man stationed there, attempting to sound casual. The guard, however, stepped forward, a hand pressing firmly against Lydus’s chest.
“Hold up,” the man said. His uniform stretched tightly over his stocky frame, seams threatening to give with every movement. A simple dagger hung at his hip, unimposing but present. “You know the rule—no leaving before sunrise.”
Lydus met the guard’s eyes, his own weary. He exhaled through his nose with a visible breath in the cool air. “Adira approved it, Bodo. It’s an early hunt.”
Bodo scratched his scruffy white beard, slowly, considering his options. “I could get in trouble for this.”
With a faint grin, Lydus clapped his hands on Bodo’s shoulders and leaned in slightly. “When we return—”
But Bodo shoved him back as his brow furrowed. “Are you out of your mind, boy?”
Lydus threw his hands up in mock surrender and widened eyes. “…We’ll have venison. Rabbit. Picture it, Bodo—fresh meat, sizzling over the fire. Smoky, tender, juicy. It’ll be heaven.” His voice carried a theatrical flourish, light and teasing.
Bodo grumbled under his breath, glancing past Lydus toward the path. “Just... go on before I change my mind.”
Lydus’s smirk widened as he gave a mock salute, his stride loosening as he passed. The path quickly grew uneven, the incline steepening sharply. Without hesitation, he crouched and slid down the slope, dust kicking up around him in a thin, gritty cloud. At the bottom, he stood and dusted himself off, his gaze lifting toward the forest ahead. The dense canopy of leaves formed an almost impenetrable wall of green, the shadows beneath them darker than the pre-dawn sky.
The air was cool and damp. Lydus pressed forward, the crunch of twigs and leaves underfoot the only sound. A flicker of light caught his eye, a warm orange glow against the darkness, and he knew it had to be them.
“Hey!” he called, raising a hand as he quickened his pace.
The figure ahead turned. Everett’s hand was pressed over his face, his shoulders tense. “Fucking idiot,” he muttered loud enough for Lydus to hear. “Don’t be so loud.”
Beside him, Arawn leaned casually against a tree, his long black coat shifting slightly in the breeze. His blonde hair caught the faint light. Arawn’s lips twitched into a faint smirk. “He’s just excited,” he said, and tilted his head as dark eyes met Lydus’s. “Did Adira really approve this?”
Everett scoffed, crossing his arms. “Of course not. And she won’t find out.”
The wind tugged at Lydus’s hair as he approached, his eyes flicking between the two men. He nodded briefly to Arawn before turning to Everett. “Just the three of us?”
“Matthew’s already in the woods,” Everett replied, crouching to adjust his bootlaces. “He went...”
“East,” Arawn supplied.
Everett grunted in agreement as he finished tying his boots. “Right.”
The faint scent of rot grew stronger, curling unpleasantly in the air. None of them reacted—the smell of decay was a common companion in these woods. It could be anything: a carcass, a stagnant stream, or worse.
“Alright,” Everett said, straightening up and brushing dirt from his knees. “You and Arawn head west. I’ll take south.” His eyes locked on Lydus, narrowing slightly. “No more than a league. You hear me?”
Lydus nodded sharply, his jaw tightening under Everett’s scrutiny. Everett turned without checking Arawn, as if assuming Lydus was the only one who needed supervision.
Arawn smirked as Everett barked orders. “Ever the charmer,” he muttered under his breath.
Everett shot him a glare. “Just hurry up.” Everett adjusted the strap of his bag and stepped forward. “Adira will figure out we’re gone soon enough.”
Lydus raised an eyebrow. “Oh? I thought—”
“No more than an hour is what she said,” Everett interrupted smoothly. “Come on.”
The group split up, their steps like pounding hooves against the damp earth, as the path beneath them quickly gave way to thick grass and sprawling tree roots. Arawn trailed behind Lydus with light movement.
“You and Everett get along, huh?” Arawn’s wry voice broke the silence. “Can’t imagine why.” He winked, his grin lopsided.
Lydus chuckled faintly and shrugged. “I’m too charming for him.” He hesitated before adding, “But honestly? We’re not that different.”
Arawn raised an eyebrow, nodding thoughtfully. “At least he’s trying. Everett hates being complacent, but he’s not a fan of smartasses either, so...”
“Maybe I just don’t take myself too seriously,” Lydus said with a smirk.
Arawn shook his head with a grin. “Has anyone found it funny? In a nice way, I mean.”
Lydus slowed his pace to think. “Uh... Emmelia, I guess.”
“You’re both hiding behind it,” Arawn said with a laugh.
Lydus tilted his head. “What does that even mean?”
Before Arawn could answer, Lydus’s sharp eyes caught tracks in the dirt. He knelt, running a hand lightly over the indentations. “Looks like deer. Fresh.” The soil was soft where the hooves had pressed and the edges hardened.
Arawn crouched beside him, studying the tracks. “Heading west. Could be a good sign.”
Lydus rose slowly, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the trees. “Guess we follow.”
The two moved deeper into the forest, squeezing through dense foliage and navigating around tightly packed trunks. Lydus’s boots scraped against rocks as they climbed, the air growing cooler with each step. The sunlight filtered through gaps in the canopy, casting golden patches onto the forest floor.
A faint rustle caught Lydus’s attention. They slowed. Through a gap in the trees, he saw it—a deer, stout and well-fed, its head lowered to drink from a small pool of water. Sunlight reflected off its shiny brown coat, rippling across the surface like a living mirror.
“All yours,” Arawn whispered.
Lydus exhaled softly, unslinging his bow and nocking an arrow. His fingers curled around the string, pulling it back in one smooth motion. The bowstring hummed faintly under the tension. He shifted for a clearer shot.
The deer lifted its head, ears twitching as it froze. Lydus smirked slightly—he always found it curious how they paused like that. Perfect. He released the string. The arrow flew with a sharp snap, striking just below the deer’s neck. The animal bolted, crashing through the underbrush in a frantic escape. Other deer scattered in a blur and he realized the others must have been hiding.
Lydus stepped forward, brushing aside the thorns that scratched at his arms. His eyes followed the blood trail on the ground, crimson droplets stark against the earth. “It won’t make it far,” he murmured.
Arawn’s gaze fixed ahead. “Well... it certainly didn’t.”
Lydus frowned, following Arawn’s line of sight. His eyes landed on a wide, slow-moving river. The deer lay trembling on the opposite bank, its body quaking. Between them stood a collapsed bridge, its planks broken and washed against the rocks below. “How the hell did it get across?”
Arawn scanned the area and brushed blonde hair from his face. “Those rocks,” he said, nodding toward a series of stones spaced like a natural crossing.
Lydus groaned. “Ugh, I don’t want to get wet.” A sly grin spread across his face. “Can’t you, you know... do the thing?”
Arawn sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly, but gave little fight, “Alright. Let’s do it.”
Lydus stepped back, his grin widening as Arawn extended his arm. Yellow sparks crackled across Arawn’s skin, tiny bolts of electricity dancing along his fingers. The broken planks of the bridge trembled, shifting and creaking as though roused from slumber. Slowly, the wood seemed to knit itself back together, ropes tightening and fibers mending. The bridge stood whole again, sturdy as if untouched by time.
Arawn dropped his arm, exhaling deeply. Lydus nudged him playfully. “I thought you Masavorans were supposed to be strong.” The word slipped out casually, though Lydus barely understood its full meaning.
Arawn’s gaze darkened slightly. “We are,” he muttered.
“Hit a nerve?” Lydus tilted his head with a light tone.
“Something like that,” Arawn replied lowly. But as he stepped onto the restored bridge, his mood seemed to lighten. “Let’s see if my hard, laborious handiwork holds up.” He made a show of testing the wood, his exaggerated expression drawing a smirk from Lydus.
Once Arawn crossed, Lydus followed. The bridge swayed slightly under his weight, the wood groaning faintly, but it held firm. Below, the river rushed past, a steady current carrying debris downstream.
Lydus glanced back at the bridge, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Not bad.”
The two approached the deer, its sides heaving with labored breaths. Blood soaked the animal’s once-pristine fur, matting it into a sticky mess. Lydus’s grip tightened around the arrow lodged in its neck, the shaft slick under his fingers. As he pulled it free with a wet squelch, the deer’s legs jerked weakly, a last futile struggle.
Hovering his blade above the deer’s head, Lydus paused. The animal’s dark, glassy eyes locked onto his. They were wide, quivering, pleading—and then still, almost as if it had accepted what was coming. His jaw clenched, but he drove the blade down in one swift motion. The deer’s body convulsed, shuddering violently before falling limp. Blood seeped out, spreading dark and warm beneath it.
Breathing heavily, Lydus wiped the blade on his cloak, smearing crimson across the fabric. His shoulders sagged.
“You looked almost reluctant,” Arawn said, his laugh dry, devoid of humor.
Lydus glanced at him, his expression flat, though his fingers twitched against the hilt of his knife. “Killing always leaves a bad taste,” he muttered, meeting Arawn’s gaze. “But it’s nature.” He yanked the arrow free, blood splattering his arms. The sticky warmth made his stomach churn, but he kept his face neutral.
“Better get this back quickly,” Arawn said with a long exhale, rubbing the back of his neck.
Lydus nodded and wiped his arms, but his movements slowed. His eyes flickered to the trees, narrowing. Something unseen prickled at his senses. His hand hovered near his blade.
“Lydus?” Arawn’s voice broke through the silence. A firm hand landed on Lydus’s shoulder. “What is it?”
Lydus’s lips parted. “Do you… see that?”
Arawn’s head tilted and scanned the dense thicket. “See what?”
Lydus didn’t respond. His legs moved of their own accord as if drawn forward by an invisible thread. He ducked under branches, thorns snagging his cloak and scratching his skin, but he didn’t stop.
“Don’t go that way!” Arawn stepped in front of him in a raised tone. “We need to head back, Lydus.”
Lydus’s gaze darted past him, scanning the shadowed forest. “Yeah… we will. I just…” His words trailed off and his feet shifted.
Arawn’s eyes softened briefly before he sighed. “Good. Let’s not give Everett a reason to chew us out.” He turned, brushing past Lydus.
The moment Arawn looked away, Lydus pressed forward. Branches cracked underfoot as he entered a clearing. His breath caught, and his chest tightened at the sight before him.
“Lydus—Lydus!” Arawn’s shouts faded into the background as Lydus’s eyes locked onto a towering stone monolith. The jagged peaks rose high above the treetops, the smooth surface carved with intricate runes and symbols. Around its base, the earth was bare, a perfect circle devoid of life.
Drawn closer, Lydus stretched a hand toward the stone. The air around him warped, sounds distorting into muffled echoes. His vision tunneled until only the monolith remained. As his fingers brushed its surface, heat rose—a scorching, pulsing sensation that burned through his skin.
A whisper slithered into his mind. “Find us… Find us, Lydus… soon.”
The searing heat grew unbearable. Gasping, Lydus wrenched his hand away and stumbled back, collapsing onto the ground. The trance shattered and the forest snapped back into sharp focus.
“What the hell?” he breathed, his chest heaving. His hand throbbed, the skin reddened where it had touched the stone.
Arawn crouched beside him with a brow creased in concern. “What did it say to you?”
Lydus stared at him, bewildered. “I… I don’t know. It wanted me to…”
“Find them?” Arawn’s muttered.
Lydus’s head snapped toward him. “How did you…?”
Before he could finish, a distant yell caught their ears. Everett’s voice rang out, calling them back. Lydus and Arawn exchanged a glance before scrambling to their feet. Together, they hoisted the deer and hurried back.
As they neared the bridge, the weight of the carcass bore down on their shoulders, but their pace never slowed. Lydus’s mind raced with questions, the image of the stone and the haunting whisper refusing to leave him. His gaze flicked to Arawn who spoke of nothing. How did he know about it?
The unsettling thought lingered as they approached Everett. He stood with another man, his posture stiff, a hand pressed to his temple.
“What’s wrong?” Lydus asked and set the deer down. Blood smeared across his palms as he wiped them on his cloak.
Everett held up a bloodied bag, its contents shifting with a dull thud. Inside, Lydus saw the limp forms of rabbits. “Spotted someone,” Everett said with a low voice. “Looked like a soldier from the kingdom—”
“It was,” Matthew cut in, appearing from the left. His dirty-blonde hair was tied back, his movements brisk. “Those genocide-loving freaks will be crawling all over us.” His voice rose, grating against the tension.
Everett shoved the bag into Matthew’s hands with a scowl. “No, they won’t. We scared him off. They’re not following us back.”
“Fuck…” Lydus muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. Blood streaked through the dark strands, unnoticed.
Everett grabbed his armor and pulled him close. “Keep your damn voice down.” After a tense beat, he smacked the back of Lydus’s head.
Lydus’s lip curled. “Asshole.”
“Enough,” Arawn cut in, his tone firm. “If we don’t head back soon, Adira will find out.”
Lydus’s jaw tightened. Of course she didn’t know. Why keep it from him? He wasn’t the type to snitch.
“She’ll be up by now, checking on us,” he muttered. “And bitching as usual.”
Arawn sighed, his hand rubbing at his temples. “Let’s move before this gets worse.” Everett waved them forward, gesturing to the carcass.
As they lifted the deer again, its fur warm against their hands, Everett turned back. His eyes darkened. “And don’t mention the soldier.”
ns 15.158.61.20da2
