Nine days later..

  I stood at the edge of the forest, staring into a sea of shadow and green. The trees here were nothing like the spindly ones near Sun’s territories. These were giants, trunks thicker than towers, their roots curling like snakes above the earth. The branches were so broad and heavy they could support entire homes. In fact, I had heard stories that some tribes built their villages high in the canopy, their platforms hidden in the mist so intruders could never approach undetected.

  I adjusted the strap of my small pack. Inside was just the bare minimum: food rations, extra clothing, a water canister, and a folded map I’d studied so many times the creases were beginning to tear. The map was Kaiguro’s, and he had marked it himself. My destination. The Hatchahuk tribe.

  According to what I’d been told by Kaiguro, the Hatchahuk were strange. They weren’t the largest or the most numerous. They weren’t hidden masters of some special martial art or holders of legendary weapons. No—their reputation came from something else. Their brutality.

  Unlike all other tribes, who slew their enemies outright, the Hatchahuk broke them apart piece by piece. They maimed, they disfigured, but they let them live. Survivors were said to walk away hollow-eyed, broken, sometimes crawling on hands and knees. Some called it cruelty. Others whispered that it was their way of forcing a new perspective on life, of turning vengeance into reflection. To me? It was just sadistic. Creepy, even.

  Still, if I wanted Kaiguro’s brother on my side, this was where I had to go. I had to adjust to their morality.

  I stepped into the forest. The temperature dropped immediately, shade blotting out the sun. Sound shifted too. Leaves rustled above like whispers, insects buzzed, and water dripped from somewhere deep inside. With all this noise, sensing anyone from far away would be impossible. My awareness would only stretch a short distance.

  The map told me the southern stretch of this forest belonged to the Sinsik tribe. They were hunters who lived by the kill. Brutal, efficient, merciless. Fortunately, their villages were to the east, and I had no plans to wander into their grounds. Even so, their hunters ranged widely. I had timed my entry carefully—Saturday. From what Kaiguro had said, the Sinsik hunted during the weekdays and rested on weekends. If their traditions held, today should be safer. Safer—but never safe.

  Fifteen minutes later..

  At my current pace, I’d reach Hatchahuk territory in a couple of hours. Kaiguro had given me something for this journey. A loyalty badge, carved from a single block of wood. It was plain at first glance, but the intricate swirling patterns etched into it made it unmistakable. No outsider could copy it. It wasn’t just decoration—it was proof that Kaiguro vouched for me, that I was recognized by his line and tribe. Without it, I’d be marked an intruder. With it, I might at least get a chance to speak.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  That was the hope.

  A leaf crunched.

  Not mine. Too close. Too sharp. Wrong angle.

  I froze mid-step. I turned my head slightly, pretending to study my map, but my senses stretched outward like threads.

  “I know you’re there,” I said, voice calm. “come on out.”

  For a few seconds, silence answered me. Then a voice came—disembodied, echoing unnaturally among the trunks.

  “Who are you?”

  It wasn’t coming from any one direction. Some kind of trick. A hollowed branch, maybe, or a speaking tube hidden in the undergrowth. My eyes swept the brush but gave nothing away.

  “I’m here to visit the Hatchahuk tribe.” I said evenly. “I mean no disrespect and no harm.”

  “If you did,” the voice replied, “you would already be dead. Turn around. There is war between us and the Hatchahuk.”

  A war? My brow furrowed.

  “I thought there was a truce.” I said.

  “The Hatchahuk have changed,” the voice answered, brittle with restrained anger. “they are killing us and other tribes. Our scouts speak of their skins red as flame, their bodies twisted like beasts. You cannot speak to them as they are.”

  That was new. And troubling. Is Surge actually here? If it was true, it could also be useful. If I brought this back to Kaiguro’s brother, if I offered help... trust could be forged immediately, and I wouldn't have to use that excuse on Leo.

  “I can help.” I offered. “The business I have with them is urgent.”

  Silence again. But in that silence, I listened. Listened hard. My senses sharpened. The forest was noisy, yes, but there—about thirty meters to my left—the brush was wrong. Too still.

  The voice came once more. “Help? You would only kill yourself. Leave now.”

  I blitzed forward, faster than the eye could follow. My body blurred through the trees, and in a blink I was behind the disturbance. The brush shifted unnaturally as I cut around it, and I reached out, grasping the leafy cover with one hand.

  “Still think I can’t help?” I asked.

  I ripped the brush aside, and she emerged.

  The first thing I saw was her skin—dark orange, glowing faintly in the dappled light, almost like embers under flesh. Then her bow, curved and polished, already half-drawn with an arrow at the string. She carried more than just a bow—knives strapped to her thighs, a quiver of arrows, pouches filled with who-knows-what tools of survival and death. But what caught me most was her hair. Long, black, glossy, bound at the end with a tie shaped like a scorpion. Each step she took toward me was light, silent, and with the wildness of a tiger.

  Her eyes locked onto me. Sharp. Testing.

  She spun with fluid speed, bowstring tightening, arrow pointed straight at my chest.

  I raised both hands slowly, keeping my stance relaxed. “Seriously.”

  She studied me for a long moment, gaze narrowing. Then she spoke. Her voice was clear, confident, but there was an edge of suspicion beneath it. “How did you get behind me? No man moves like that. Are you... beyond?”

  Beyond. That had to be their word for transcended.

  I gave a single nod. “Yes.”

  Her bow lowered, though not fully. She slung it across her back with a motion that told me she could draw it again faster than most men could blink. “Then tell me your name, oh great warrior.”

  I smiled faintly. “Vellin Cardaire. And you?”

  She straightened her back proudly.

  “Odina. Odina of the Sinsik.”