Maruzan took the long way to the college that evening. The cobblestone streets of Arnathe were cooling from the day’s heat, the air calm and filled with the quiet hum of students packing up books and tutors locking doors. Lanterns were just beginning to glow along the paths, and the light brushed softly against the trees that lined the hill.

  He walked without hurry, though his heart was restless. His warband was nearly ready, packs loaded, weapons sharpened, maps marked. But one thing still weighed on him: he hadn’t spoken to Velthur. He didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.

  The King’s College sat high on the ridge, its pale stone walls half-covered in ivy and its old temple spires rising like silent watchmen. He found Nethira outside, standing near the orchard that grew just beyond the east wing.

  Her steps were slow and uneven, her attention turned inward. The light breeze tugged gently at the edges of her green robes, and her eyes, pale and thoughtful, seemed to be searching something that only she could see.

  She didn’t notice him at first. Not until his boots crunched lightly against the gravel at the edge of the path.

  “Nethira,” he said quietly.

  Her head turned, her focus returning as if from far away. “Maruzan,” she murmured. “You startled me.”

  He stopped a few paces away, hands loosely at his sides. “Didn’t mean to. You looked like you were somewhere else.”

  “I was,” she admitted. “Somewhere between here and the dreams again.”

  He studied her for a moment, then tilted his head slightly. “Dreams or visions?”

  “Both,” she said, crossing her arms. “They’re never clear enough to separate. But they’ve been coming stronger these past nights.”

  He frowned. “Like before Harbinth?”

  Her eyes met his, and she nodded. “Exactly like then. It’s as if the roots themselves are whispering again, warning that something below is moving.”

  Maruzan took a step closer, his voice steady though his stomach tightened. “You mean in the hills.”

  “Yes,” she said. Her gaze drifted beyond the orchard, toward the faint outline of the distant hills. “I feel a stirring near the foothills, beyond the Green Hills themselves. Something old. Something waiting.”

  He followed her gaze for a moment. The city below was peaceful, unaware. But he knew the quiet didn’t last forever. It never did.

  “You think it’s connected,” he said finally. “To what happened before.”

  “I don’t just think it,” she replied. “I know it. The presence feels the same, the same cold echo, the same pulse in the earth. It’s weaker now, but… not gone.”

  Maruzan’s jaw tightened. “Vane tried again to get answers out of Keshik last week,” he said. “Still nothing. Won’t speak, won’t eat half the time. He’d rather rot in the cell than admit who he was working for.”

  “That’s the way of the bound,” Nethira said softly. “Once they’ve tied their will to dark magic, truth becomes impossible. They can’t speak it, even if they wanted to.”

  He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

  For a while, neither spoke. The leaves rustled quietly around them.

  Finally, Maruzan said, “There’s a reason I came. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

  Her eyes widened a little. “Where?”

  “South,” he said. “There’s a girl gone missing, Azandra of House Sofine. The King’s daughter, Princess Phoebe, asked me personally to find her.”

  Nethira’s expression darkened slightly. “The noble girl who studies ruins?”

  He nodded. “That’s the one. She was last seen near the Green Hills, close to old ruins. Maybe one of the same sites your people once guarded.”

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  “And you think this disappearance is tied to what I’ve been feeling.”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But if I had to guess… yes. There’s too much coincidence here. A missing relic hunter, a stirring in the hills, and an unease spreading through your dreams again. It’s too close to ignore.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Then why go without us? Without the dryads, without proper warning?”

  “I’m not planning to fight,” he said firmly. “I’m only going to look. To find the girl and bring her home. If something darker is waiting out there, we’ll fall back and regroup.”

  She shook her head. “You say that now, but I’ve seen how you act when others are in danger. You’ll stand your ground before you retreat.”

  He almost smiled at that. “Maybe. But I have no plans to be a hero. Not again. Just a searcher doing his job.”

  “You underestimate what waits in forgotten places,” she said. “If Nezzarod’s hand still lingers—”

  Maruzan cut her off gently. “Then you’ll be ready. That’s why I’m telling you. If something starts to stir beneath those roots of yours, I need you to act fast. Contact Ylla. The Seeker, if he’ll listen. Anyone who’ll answer. Because if the darkness wakes again, we’ll need more than swords.”

  She stared at him, conflicted. Her lips pressed together in quiet thought before she said, “You carry too much on your shoulders, Maruzan. You always have.”

  He shrugged lightly. “Someone has to.”

  A small silence followed. The wind had cooled by now, rustling the branches of the apple trees nearby. A few students crossed the distant path below, laughing quietly as they carried lanterns back to the dormitories.

  At last, Nethira asked, “Have you told Velthur?”

  “Not yet,” he said. “That’s next. I’ll tell him I’m heading out with Xonya on a basilisk hunt. Simple. Safe enough. No mention of sorcerers or missing nobles.”

  “You think he’ll believe you?”

  “I think he’ll want to,” Maruzan said. “He’s been doing well here. He deserves a little peace. He’s learned enough about fear for one lifetime.”

  Nethira smiled faintly. “You sound like a father.”

  He looked away, pretending to adjust his gloves.

  Her smile softened. “You should go to him. He’s probably finishing supper in the refectory.”

  He nodded, then hesitated. “Nethira… if things start to worsen here, if the dreams become something more than warning, send word to me.”

  “I will,” she said. “And Maruzan…”

  He paused.

  “Don’t take this on alone. Not this time.”

  He gave a small, tired smile. “I’ll try.”

  It wasn’t a promise, and they both knew it.

  The college courtyard was almost empty when he crossed it. The last of the evening bells had faded, and only the sound of crickets filled the space. The refectory lights glowed warmly through the tall windows, and the faint clatter of dishes carried out to the steps.

  Inside, a few students lingered over half-eaten meals, scribbling notes or chatting softly. At a corner table, Velthur sat hunched over a small bowl of stew, reading from a folded parchment propped against his cup. His hair had grown longer since the last time Maruzan had visited, brushing lightly against his eyes.

  The boy looked older somehow, still gentle, but with a focus that reminded Maruzan of himself many years ago.

  Maruzan walked over, placing a hand on the back of the chair across from him. “Mind if I join you?”

  Velthur looked up, his face brightening. “Father! I didn’t think you’d come by tonight.”

  “I couldn’t leave without seeing you,” he said, taking a seat.

  “Leave?” Velthur blinked. “You’re going somewhere?”

  Maruzan nodded, resting his forearms on the table. “For a bit. A hunt with Xonya. Nothing dangerous, just work. The Guild’s finally trusting me.”

  Velthur smiled faintly. “You always said you’d go back on a journey one day.”

  “It’s time,” Maruzan said. “But I’ll be back before you notice I’m gone. Maybe two weeks, maybe less.”

  Velthur nodded, though the hesitation in his eyes didn’t escape Maruzan.

  “I’ll keep up with my studies,” Velthur said quickly. “Magister Justinus gave us three new readings. And Nethira says we’ll start real fieldwork this season. I’m ready for it.”

  Maruzan smiled. “I know you are.”

  They ate together for a while, talking about simple things, the college, the markets, how Bram had written a letter complaining about the taste of Arnathe ale compared to dwarven brew. Maruzan kept the tone light, steady, as if they were simply sharing another evening before another ordinary day.

  When Velthur finally rose to clear his dishes, Maruzan stood too.

  “Hey,” Maruzan said. “You’re doing well, Vel. I mean it. I’m proud of you.”

  The boy smiled, a little embarrassed but clearly moved. “Thank you.”

  Maruzan rested a hand on his shoulder. “Keep your head down, study hard. And listen to Nethira. She’s wiser than I’ll ever be.”

  Velthur nodded. “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

  “Always,” Maruzan said.

  They parted at the courtyard steps, and Maruzan lingered there a moment, watching the glow of the college windows fade into the night.

  He turned toward the road that led back to the shop. The air felt different now, not heavy, but charged. As if the earth beneath him was listening.

  He knew Nethira was right. Something was stirring again beneath the roots, something ancient and patient.

  But for now, there was only the road, and a girl to find before the darkness found her first.