Kael walked into the forest.
The trees closed in, swallowing the last of the daylight. Shadows lay thick between the trunks. The air smelled of moss and damp earth. His pace stayed even and unbroken.
Hoofprints, boot marks, broken branches—the trail cut straight through the undergrowth, recent and unhidden. Kael followed it head-on, boots crushing leaves and twigs underfoot.
The forest grew denser. The canopy overhead knitted tight, shutting out the sky. Pale fragments of light filtered down, turning the ground a dull gray.
Kael's hand rested on the long blade. The tracks led deeper.
The forest thinned. Firelight flickered ahead. Voices carried between the trees.
He found it after an hour.
A fortified settlement carved into the hillside—crude walls of sharpened logs, watchtowers cobbled together from stolen lumber, a gate reinforced with iron plates. Torchlight flickered between the gaps. Voices carried on the wind, rough laughter and shouting.
