Orin Alpheratz (15 years old) Location: Solaris Date: Year 873 / Crow Cycle (3) / Bard's Day (9)

  Chaos gripped the camp. The Church soldiers, shaken and unsure, hesitated as the sharp blasts of the war horn echoed ever closer along the darkened road.

  "We should pull back… and tend to the wounded," one of them said, glancing at the guard still pinned by an arrow as a companion tried to stop the bleeding.

  "And what about the men stationed here?" another snapped. "We can’t just leave them behind."

  "Damn it…" growled the knight in command, grinding his teeth. "This has turned into a mess. Fighting in the dark, with wounded on our side, is suicide."

  Slowly, reluctantly, the soldiers regrouped, lifting the injured and pulling together. Their drawn faces and stiff movements told Orin everything—whatever resolve they’d had was gone.

  "If there’s a sorcerer hiding in those trees, then retreat is our only option," the commander said grimly. "We’ll need someone with proper tracking skills. Once we find him, we’ll return."

  Orin watched from above as the firelight—what remained of the wagon now little more than a blazing skeleton—cast long shadows across the clearing. Not far away, another patch of flame crept outward, all of it drowned beneath the piercing cadence of the war horn that drew closer with each breath.

  "Take the wounded and fall back toward the Academy," the knight ordered. "Move as a unit. Stay sharp—we don’t know how many enemies are waiting to ambush us."

  The soldiers nodded as one and withdrew, disappearing down the road before whatever was approaching could reach them.

  When silence finally settled over the clearing, Orin climbed down from the tree, unease tightening his brow as he turned toward the sound.

  That horn… they said it belongs to the Star Children, he thought. Could it be Felis and the others?

  He crossed the scorched remains of the camp and stepped onto the path just as the sound reached him.

  And froze.

  Standing there were not Felis, nor any Star Children at all—but Loki and Rick. Loki held the battle horn in his hands, its surface dimly lit by the dying flames.

  "You…?" Orin said, stunned. "How—?"

  "A little trick we wanted to try," Loki said, a faint grin tugging at his lips.

  "I found the horn in the wagon," Rick added. "We figured we could scare them off."

  "But the soldiers said that horn belongs to the Star Children," Orin said. "How do you even know that signal?"

  Loki shrugged. "We’ve lived our whole lives near the edge of the Dhamarr Desert. In Balabar, everyone knows that sound."

  "Unlike Solaris, Balabar’s relationship with Dhamarr is… complicated," Rick explained. "Sometimes tense, sometimes friendly. Duradeen traders use the horn to announce their arrival. You hear it often enough, you don’t forget it."

  "I see…" Orin murmured, genuinely surprised. "I didn’t realize Balabar had such close ties to Dhamarr."

  "It’s not something the Empire likes to advertise," Loki said. "Balabar used to be Duradeen territory. Solaris took it during their expansion. They tolerate our ties because the town is strategically valuable."

  "At least… they used to," Rick added quietly. "The Church of Luminia doesn’t tolerate any connection with Dhamarr. That’s why we have to go back—to protect our people."

  Orin nodded slowly. "I understand your situation better now."

  He glanced once more at the burning camp, then turned down the road.

  "Either way, we can’t stay here," he said firmly. "Let’s move. We’ll find a safe place to spend the night."

  Without another word, the three of them disappeared into the darkness of the road, leaving the smoke and embers behind.

  The path lay swallowed by quietness. As the cold deepened, Rick pulled layers of cotton clothing from his pack and handed them to Orin and Loki.

  "How much farther?" Orin asked, fatigue finally creeping into his voice after such a long, relentless day.

  "We should be close to the West Gate," Rick replied, rummaging through his backpack.

  "The problem will be finding a place to camp," Loki added. "There are magical beasts in the area—and closer to the Gate, the patrols will only get worse. Especially at dawn."

  Rick took out a canteen and handed it to Orin, who accepted it gratefully and took a long drink.

  "We still need to rest," Orin said. "Even a few hours. If we leave before dawn and keep avoiding trouble, I think we can make it."

  "Agreed," Loki said. "Then we should move."

  They picked up the pace. Each step, each breath, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead slowly drained their strength. After nearly thirty minutes, Loki spoke again.

  "We should be very close to the West Gate now. Ideally, we’d leave Solaris entirely before camping—but the closer we get, the heavier the patrols will be."

  "So you’re saying we camp here?" Orin asked, uneasy. He would have preferred to put Solaris behind them, but exhaustion was already catching up.

  "If we head deeper into the forest, we should be off the guards’ routes," Loki said.

  "But right onto the beasts’ routes," Rick muttered.

  Orin grimaced. Neither option was good—but lingering on the road wasn’t one either.

  "Alright," Orin said at last. "We’ll camp somewhere nearby. We leave before dawn and use the woods to circle around the West Gate. There’ll be too many soldiers there in daylight."

  Both boys nodded, and together they left the road, stepping into the forest’s oppressive darkness.

  The trees closed in quickly. They moved blindly, pushing past branches and roots, every sound magnified to an unsettling degree. Each rustle felt deliberate—watchful.

  Crack. Crack.

  Branches snapped beneath their feet, yet the same sound echoed elsewhere, out of sync.

  "I really hope that’s just our echo," Rick whispered.

  Neither Orin nor Loki replied. They pressed forward—until Orin suddenly felt a sharp tug on his arm.

  "What was that?" he asked, turning.

  "What do you mean?" Loki replied.

  "Did one of you—"

  Before he could finish, something yanked him violently off balance. Orin hit the ground hard, his body dragged backward through the undergrowth.

  "Orin!" Loki and Rick shouted.

  He heard their cries cut short—followed by their own startled shouts.

  "Rick, Loki... wait!" Orin muttered as he struggled to escape.

  Whatever had seized him tightened around his arm, sticky and unyielding, dragging him deeper into the forest like a living rope.

  "Damn it… what is this thing?" Orin snarled.

  With his free hand, he drew his dagger and slashed blindly—but the darkness, the motion, and the slick resistance made it useless.

  "No choice left," he hissed. "ACTIVATE HUNTER SKILL: Solar Dagger."

  Golden light flared along the blade, illuminating the truth behind the thing that had trapped him.

  A thick, green tentacle—more vine than limb—coiled tightly around his arm. It blended perfectly with the forest, pulsing faintly as if alive.

  Orin didn’t even need to strike.

  The instant the glowing blade brushed against it, the creature reacted violently, thrashing and recoiling as it released him.

  Orin didn’t hesitate.

  He tore free and sprinted back toward where Rick and Loki had been, not daring to look back as the forest closed in behind him.

  Branches lashed against Orin’s face as he tore through the undergrowth, thorns scraping his arms and cheeks. By the time he stumbled into the clearing where he thought he’d left the others, his breath burned in his chest and his skin ached.

  “Rick! Loki!” he shouted.

  Only the forest answered him. No movement. No reply.

  His pulse spiked.

  Orin pushed forward blindly—and something burst from the bushes and slammed into him. He reacted on instinct, dagger flashing halfway out of its sheath—

  “Ouch!”

  The voice froze him in place.

  “…Rick?” Orin lowered the blade. “Is that you?”

  Rick crawled out of the brush, pale and shaking. “Y-Yeah… I think something grabbed Loki. I barely slipped away.”

  Orin’s jaw tightened. “Damn it. It must be the same thing that grabbed me. Come on. We’re finding him—now.”

  They moved fast, senses stretched thin, every snapped twig making Orin’s grip tighten. Rick strained to listen, breathing shallow. And suddenly...

  “Do you hear that?” Orin whispered, hearing some kind of buzzing sound not far away.

  “…Water,” Rick said after a moment. “Like a river.”

  Orin focused—and caught it too. A steady flow, close.

  Then—

  A muffled scream.

  “Loki,” Orin said instantly. He turned to Rick. “Give me your shield.”

  Rick didn’t question it. He shoved the battered shield into Orin’s hands. The metal felt rough, scorched in places—but it would do.

  “ACTIVATE KNIGHT SKILL: Solar Shield.”

  A faint golden glow bloomed across its surface, washing the forest in dim light. Roots twisted into view—thick, green, writhing like serpents along the ground.

  Rick stared. “That thing…?”

  “The same one that attacked me,” Orin said grimly. “I’ll hold it back. You find Loki. If you do—run for the river.”

  Rick hesitated. “Orin—”

  “It hates heat,” Orin said, raising the shield. “As long as this holds, I’ll be fine.”

  That was a lie. But Rick nodded anyway.

  Orin stepped forward and struck the root with the glowing shield.

  The reaction was instant.

  The vine recoiled violently, thrashing as if burned. The movement rippled deeper into the forest—branches shuddered, leaves exploded outward.

  “Loki!” Rick shouted. “We’re here!”

  Orin pressed on, forcing the shield against the twisting roots. The thing retreated—but not without resistance. Then—

  Crack.

  Branches snapped ahead.

  “Rick! Orin!” Loki burst through the trees, eyes wide. “It’s chasing me!”

  “Go!” Orin barked. “The river’s close—don’t stop!”

  Loki and Rick hesitated, voices breaking—but then they ran.

  Orin turned back toward the darkness.

  “So… let’s see how you like this.” He drew an arrow, steadying his breath. “ACTIVATE HUNTER SKILL: Solar Arrow.”

  The shaft ignited with blinding light and tore into the shadows. And then...

  Silence. A brief silence.

  Followed by chaos.

  The forest erupted. Roots tore free from the ground, branches lashed wildly, the earth itself seemed to writhe.

  “Tch—!”

  Orin reached for another arrow. “ACTIVATE HUNT—”

  But suddenly pain slammed into him.

  His vision swam. His head burned. Every muscle screamed.

  I pushed too far…

  He bolted.

  Something yanked at his quiver—ripped it free. Arrows scattered into the dark as Orin staggered forward, lungs on fire, something grasping at his back.

  But Orin never stopped. He ran and ran... like never before in his life.

  The roar of water grew louder.

  Then—

  He burst out of the trees.

  Into a clearing.

  The forest stopped at its edge, as if unwilling—or unable—to cross.

  Orin collapsed to his knees, gasping. When he looked back, the writhing roots had vanished into the shadows.

  He turned, and saw them there...

  Rick and Loki stood ahead of him.

  “…Did we make it? Did we reach the river?” Orin asked weakly, on the verge of collapse.

  Rick peered over the edge. “Yes—but… it’s below us.”

  Loki swallowed. “It’s a cliff.”

  A cliff… it can't be...

  With that bitter thought, the last of Orin’s strength gave out. His knees buckled, and the world tilted as darkness closed in, pulling him under.