The forest stretched endlessly, twisting into darkness where silence lay.Hooves were the only sound, crunching the leaves that lay on the path through the woods, leading to the other side, keeping them from getting lost. Kian’s mind wandered; his thoughts lost in the monotony of the journey. Where were we even going? They had crossed canyons and climbed mountains, weaving deeper into a wilderness that seemed to have no end, and not a word had been spoken for what felt like weeks.

  Unable to bear the quiet any longer, Kian broke the silence first. ′Where is Drettius, Albaras? How much farther do we need to go?′

  Albaras let out a deep, hearty laugh, the sound blending with a sigh that echoed through the woods. ′A few more days, Kian. I’m sure we’re close. The next place is one of the last where he could still be hiding.′

  From the back of the group, Aadalarasu’s voice rang out, edged with impatience. ′And where exactly would that be? You’ve had us wandering across the county, stopping to stare at nothing, only to move straight to the next spot without a word!′

  Rederick chimed in, ′A cave, maybe? Seems fitting for a man like Drettius.′

  Albaras waved a hand dismissively, his laughter fading, leaving the rest in silence. ′Patience, all of you. You’ll know soon enough.′

  The tension in the group was palpable, like a taut rope ready to snap. Kian could feel it pressing on him, the invisible weight of unspoken thoughts. This hunt was not just about teamwork. To bring justice to the north, only Aadalarasu remained indifferentwho only follows his lord orders.

  Albaras, always the one to laugh, was silent. It looked like he didn’t know the way the best hunter failing to track this ex-hunter.

  Rederick watched him, deep in thought, as if he knew Albaras was planning something or preparing himself for what was to come. He wanted to act on his own, but no one else seemed to notice. Kian saw how his hands trembled from the force of his own grip.

  Bernhard and Aadalarasu were focused only on capturing him alive, while Rederick remained withdrawn, silent, and refusing to eat. Albaras, meanwhile, was steadily tracking his way in silence.

  Kian’s mind raced. When the moment came, where would I stand? With Albaras, the man who helped me survive? With the protector and the guard, hoping to end this the right way and maybe even be called a hero? Or would I stay with Rederick, doing nothing, just standing there, let them fight it out?

  A glance at Rederick told Kian he was not the only one feeling the strain. Their eyes met for a brief moment. Rederick could feel Kian watching him. Rederick knew. He knew exactly what Kian was thinking. But like the others, he remained silent, offering no comfort and no assurance that this would end without a kill.

  Up ahead, Kian focused on Albaras, who was whistling softly. The melody, light and carefree, seemed jarringly out of place in the silence. It was as if something dark were trying to be light. A sound meant to uplift, but in the shadowy depths of the tune, it felt wrong, too bright, too hopeful.

  ′Could that mean?...′ Aadalarasu yelled, snapping Rederick out of his gaze. ′Did you find the tracks?′

  Aadalarasu’s voice cut through the steady crunch of hooves on dry leaves, his tone trying to sound casual, as if they weren’t on a mission to hunt down a man notorious for slipping through Dunten undetected. ′Albaras, what’s the plan when we reach his den? Do we lay an ambush, or are you planning to just ride in?′

  Albaras stopped his whistling to answer, his voice calm and unnervingly casual. ′Ride in? Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll wait for him, take him by surprise.′

  From the side, Bernhard raised an eyebrow and shot a questioning look at Rederick, as if to ask, Is Albaras lying? Rederick, his face worn with exhaustion, simply nodded in resigned confirmation. Probably.

  Kian’s mind reeled. Every step the vibration of the saddle was felt. As the forest thinned and the anticipation thickened, he could feel the group’s tension bleeding into him. They were close now. He could feel it in the cool air that rushed down from the mountains, in the way the earth seemed to tremble beneath their feet.

  It was no longer a question of if Drettius would be found. It was only a matter of how, and more importantly, who would make the first move. Kian felt a sickening certainty that when they found him, chaos would ensue.

  Out of the woods, the base of the mountain became visible, the peaks looming ominously closer, casting jagged shadows in the fading light. Albaras halted, his eyes scanning the distant horizon before he pointed toward one of the mountain’s dark faces. ′He’s there,′ he said, his voice steady, a voice of death.

  They traveled for days after that, for less than a week, winding their way through terrain that shifted from the forest to grasslands and then to a simple, empty plain with smaller woods around. Each evening, they set up camp, their movements growing slower. The farther they went, the later into the night they traveled, haunted by paranoia about the foe they were soon to face.

  Finally, on the eve of what felt like their final push, Albaras halted them. This time, he pointed toward a small forest clinging stubbornly to the mountainside. ′Tomorrow,′ he said. ′One more day, and we’ll be there, prepared for a fight that could be your last.′

  ‘How fundamentally sad would that be?’ he whispered, too softly for anyone to hear.”

  ′Tomorrow, we travel the last stretch,′ Albaras continued. ′Rest while you can. It may be the last time for a long while.′ His voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent, something restless beneath his words.

  As they settled down to sleep, Aadalarasu noticed that Albaras wasn’t looking at the forest, but at the mountain gap instead.

  While Rederick sat by the fire, staring into the flames, he no longer seemed to care about what was coming. He methodically used a whetstone, tightening the ribbons around his sword’s hilt and his armorWhat Albaras had to say seemed like too much, but Rederick held his silence, focusing only on the most important details. What secrets could be buried in his mind? Was it too much to ask if a normal man could carry them, or did he keep his demons locked away if there were any at all?

  Kian lay on his bedroll, watching Albaras stand in silence, gazing into the distance. It was his usual pre-sleep ritual. Rederick, meanwhile, sat staring into the fire. Neither of them seemed to notice the other’s stillness, yet somehow, they felt close, connected in a way that defied their separate gazes. Aadalarasu, on the other side of the camp, leaned toward Bernhard, whispering something as his eyes remained locked on Albaras.

  ′Is it right, Kian?′ Bernhard asked softly. ′Are you still awake?′ As he walked Rederick looked up seeing him getting closer “but once they locked eyes, the only thing Rederick gave was a small, easy nod, acknowledging him before returning his gaze to the fire. “Bernhard sat beside me, his gaze fixed on the ground.

  Bernhard continued after he sat down, his voice quieter now, only I could hear it. ′Why are you doing this? This is no job for someone so young. I know firsthand why it isn’t.′ He exhaled slowly, lost in memory. ′I’ve been called a hero since I was sixteen. I took command of a small garrison, killed my first Beastkin then and there. My father was proud of it, always talking about it to the other nobles. When I walked into a room, that was my introduction, the only thing that mattered to them. Yet, all I could feel was the blood. The rush, the power. It felt beautiful in that moment, but I know through time it was wrong. I shouldn’t have killed them all, even the ones who surrendered. It took time to realize that it was wrong, to look past the confirmation that I did the right thing just because the entire county said I did well. How could you question it when everyone around you is praising you?′

  He paused, his face tightening. ′That rush of power... I’ll never forget it. And now I’m the Protector. But sometimes, we need to distance ourselves from that power, to remember where we came from. To remember how messed up it all was, and that others don’t need to be delusional about the wrong things.′

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Before Kian could respond, Bernhard stood and walked back to Aadalarasu, leaving Kian alone with his thoughts.

  When everything went dark, a white light appeared, a burning fire fighting a shadowy cloud, darkness oozing from every crevice of the wooden planks. The fire slowly went out, and darkness filled the room. In the darkness, I could see two orange dots, as if something was watching me. Suddenly, I was pulled into the ground, into the place where every dream ends, the room with the empty altar.

  There they stood, nine men. Four of them I recognized. The others were strange. One had red arms, another was the largest, carrying something on his back shaped like a gravestone. One of them walked toward me. He had only one arm, and nothing particularly notable about him, except that he was cloaked in shadow. I dared not look at the other two as the one-armed figure came closer, until his whisper reached my ears.

  ′We’re waiting for you to come home. Find the light in the darkness. We will help you, climb back to normalcy. Our leader knows what you are, what you have. He wants to help you.′

  As his last words echoed in my mind, the white fire surged from the roof, filling the room. It reached out to me, and as the light blinded me, I woke up.

  A shout tore through the stillness of the night mist. I almost jumped, jolting awake, heart pounding as Aadalarasu’s voice echoed through the camp. ′He’s gone! Albaras is gone!′

  ′ What do you mean?’ was all I could manage as I scrambled to my feet, my head spinning from the sudden rush. Bern hard was already stirring, looking groggy but alert as he donned his armor, while Rederick was awake and silent, his gaze fixed on the path they had traveled. He had known, Kian realized. Rederick had known this would happen.

  Bernhard pointed toward the mountain forest, the outlines barely visible in the mist, his frown deepening. ′Let’s get going,′ he said, finishing donning his armor.

  ′No,′ Aadalarasu cut in sharply, his eyes blazing with determination. ′Not that way. We need to go through the gap by the mountains.′ He pointed to a narrow cleft between the towering peaks, half-hidden by mist. ′That’s where he’s gone.′

  Rederick crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. ′Or,′ he said slowly, ′we split up. Cover more ground.′

  Aadalarasu snapped around, glaring at Rederick. ′Don’t give us your plans. You didn’t wake us up. Why didn’t you wake us when Albaras left?′

  Rederick met his gaze coolly, his voice unnervingly calm. ′Because Albaras told us to conserve our strength. And besides...′ He shrugged lightly. ′That purple freak won’t die.′

  Bernhard looked confused. ′You’re not worried Albaras will get himself killed? He’s your companion, isn’t he?′

  Rederick’s gaze shifted toward the mountains, his tone flat and dispassionate. ′Companion? Albaras feels more like a warden to me. But I could say that about a lot of things.′ His eyes drifted back to the road they had traveled.

  Aadalarasu mounted his horse in one smooth motion, gripping the reins tightly. ′I don’t know what the rest of you will do,′ he said, his voice hard. ′But I’m going to the gap. If Albaras left without telling us, he’s about to do something we won’t want him to do.′

  Bernhard frowned but quickly mounted his own horse. ′I’ll follow him. He’s my guard, and it’s my responsibility. You can come or stay.′ With that, he spurred his horse forward, galloping after Aadalarasu.

  I hesitated for only a moment, my heart pounding, the sound of indecision loud in my ears. Should I stay and puzzle out what was really happening, or follow them, helping where I could?

  In a sudden rush of adrenaline, feeling that it was the right thing to do, I mounted my horse. ′We need to go, Rederick!′ I called, my voice tight with urgency, kicking my horse into motion and galloping after Bernhard and Aadalarasu. The thud of hooves echoed, and the surprise we’d once had vanished in the blink of Albaras decision.

  Hastening forward, curiosity got the better of me, and I glanced back one last time toward Rederick. He stood beside his horse, unmoving. The man’s calm, unreadable expression remained, almost like a stance Albaras would take.

  The mist from the mountains rolled in like an omen, swallowing Rederick and the camp behind Kian. In that moment, as the path ahead became clearer, Kian couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever awaited at the end of this journey wouldn’t be what any of them expected except for Albaras.

  The gap in the mountains yawned ahead, a silent invitation to the unknown. Albaras was out there alone, whether by choice or necessity, I couldn’t say. But we had to find him, to make sure he was alright.

  Whatever had driven him to leave, we had no choice but to press on and quickly.

  As Kian disappeared into the mist, Rederick watched him, his expression shifting into one of exhaustion. Why did he need to tell me? he wondered. That devil better be dead before I find him.

  He waited until the sound of hooves faded into the distance before mounting his own horse with quiet resolve. His movements were precise, almost professional, making it easy to forget how lifeless his face looked. With a sharp nudge of his heels, his horse sprang forward, galloping toward the forest at the mountain’s base, a dark line of trees clinging to the rugged slope.

  The forest, dense, shadowed, and sprawling, was the obvious choice for someone like Drettius. Rederick knew this. Anyone trained in hunting and survival would know it. The gap in the mountains was far too exposed, too narrow, too barren. No one hiding from a group like theirs would choose it unless they wanted to be found or were planning an ambush.

  Yet Aadalarasu had rushed toward the gap, determined to reach it before Albaras, even though Albaras had never been headed there in the first place.

  Rederick rode through the mist, his mind sharpening with certainty. The answer had been clear from the beginning. The trees offered cover, concealment, protection. That was where Drettius would be. It was the only place he could be.

  And yet, Aadalarasu had chosen the gap, chasing after nothing. Unless... that was the point.

  Aadalarasu pulled on the reins, bringing his horse to a halt just before the mouth of the gap. He studied the area, noting the numerous places where an ambush could be laid. He dismounted, almost gliding off, and knelt down to examine the ground more closely.

  The dirt was empty, pristine. Not a single hoofprint, nor any sign of a horse or man having passed through. It didn’t make sense. The gap was too narrow for someone to slip by without leaving some trace, especially with the heavy weight of a horse. Albaras couldn’t have come this way.

  Aadalarasu ran his fingers through the fine grass, watching as they sifted through his fingers, cascading in a way that unsettled him. His breath quickened.

  With a deep breath, he stood up, rushing toward a conclusion he didn’t want to believe. Had Albaras spoken the truth? His first instinct was to distrust Albaras’s judgment. The man had been their guide, but his actions suggested something entirely different. His body language was all wrong, as if he were working with Drettius himself. Why would he look here? Had he planned to take down Drettius alone? Didn’t he fail the first time?

  No, no, Aadalarasu thought, shaking his head as the unease grew. Albaras was many things, but not careless. He couldn’t have simply disappeared without a backup. His mind scrambled for an explanation. Did he cover his tracks? But how could he do it so perfectly, alone?

  It hit him like a punch to the gut, the realization he had been resisting, the truth that had been hiding beneath the surface all along.

  Rederick... the boy.

  The pieces fell into place with chilling clarity. Rederick had known. He had to have known. From the moment they left camp, from the moment Albaras disappeared, Rederick had been too calm, too quiet. He hadn’t been surprised at all when Albaras vanished. Now, Aadalarasu saw it for what it was, a distraction, a carefully laid misdirection.

  Aadalarasu’s heart pounded in his chest. His eyes narrowed as he looked back toward the camp, the place he now realized they should have gone all along. That was where Drettius would be, hidden in the thick woods, not in this barren, exposed gap.

  And Rederick had known. He had said nothing, letting them ride straight into this empty stretch. Why? Was he letting them go? Was this all part of some larger plan?

  Aadalarasu clenched his fists, fury and confusion swirling inside him. He couldn’t shake the sense of betrayal, the gnawing feeling that they were riding into something far darker than they had imagined as Bernhard now caught up to him.

  He mounted his horse again, every muscle tensed, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The gap yawned before him, dark and silent, but he no longer cared what lay beyond it. The real danger was in the mountain forest.

  He wheeled his horse around, spurring it toward the forest, a fire igniting in his chest. The realization hit him with the force of a hammer: Rederick wouldn’t get away with this. He had played them all, hidden his true intentions, and Aadalarasu would see to it that the truth was dragged into the light, no matter the cost. The game was over. Whatever secrets Rederick was hiding, they would come to an end now.

  Albaras entered the forest, the thick canopy overhead swallowing the mist and darkening the path ahead. He dismounted with a quiet sigh, the sound almost lost in the stillness of the woods. ′Here we go again,′ he muttered to himself, his voice low and weary. His hand brushed the hilt of his sword, and for a moment, he stood still, allowing the weight of the forest to settle around him. It felt all too familiar, as if the shadows were watching and the hunters were never far behind. Without a glance over his shoulder, he led his horse deeper into the wilderness, as though he knew exactly where he was going.

  Kian closed in on the horsemen, seeing them through the mist from a distance as Aadalarasu rode toward the left side, Bernhard close behind. Something felt off. The urgency in their movements, the way they pressed forward without hesitation, made him wonder what had happened. His heart quickened as his mind raced, trying to piece together the events leading up to this moment. Albaras had disappeared, Aadalarasu was chasing after him, and Rederick had been left behind. None of it made sense.

  Without hesitation, Kian spurred his horse forward, determined to follow them. He needed answers. He had to understand what was really happening and why they weren’t heading toward the mountain. The forest loomed ahead, dark and foreboding, but Kian pressed on, his mind set on uncovering the truth.

  Rederick rode silently, the forest mist swirling around him as he neared the base of the mountain. The dense fog blurred the edges of the trees, casting everything in a ghostly light. As he pressed forward, a silhouette slowly emerged from the mist, a horse, standing still among the trees. Its dark outline was unmistakable.

  Albaras, Rederick thought, his heart pounding in his chest. He urged his horse closer, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the figure ahead. Why didn’t you wait for anyone?