Dawn's first light was barely stirring the mist in the forest when Karrion crouched at the edge of their camp, brow furrowed in concentration. The air was cold and damp, but he made no complaint—his gaze was fixed on the ground.
Fresh footprints marred the soft earth: not the jagged tracks of wild beasts, nor the ragged prints of their own hurried flight. These were deliberate, even—an expertly practiced tread.
"What is it?" Raine asked, slinging his pack over one shoulder as he stepped closer.
Karrion stood and brushed mud from his gauntleted hands, his eyes scanning the treeline as though seeking hidden watchers. "We're being hunted," he said quietly, tone brooking no argument.
Raine's heart tightened. The tracks led straight into the wood, weaving between stones and thickets with unnerving precision. A veteran tracker, no doubt.
Thalia emerged from the shadows, hood drawn low. She spoke not a word but pressed her slender fingers together, eyes narrowing at the footprints.
"When did you notice them?" Raine whispered.
"Just now," Karrion answered, pointing down the trail. "They watched us all night from the shadows." He stamped one print into the mud, then spat. "Three to five of them—old hands, every one."
The forest fell unnaturally silent. No birdsong, no wind in the canopy—only the pounding of their own hearts.
"Church knights?" Raine ventured.
Karrion shook his head. "Too quiet in their steps. These are hunters… or worse."
"We must go," Raine said, setting his jaw.
They snuffed the embers, doused their fire, and followed Karrion onto a narrow, rocky path that wound steeply down into the valley.
Raine's blade hand itched on the hilt. Thalia brought up the rear, her footsteps so soft they vanished among the fallen leaves. Her eyes never stopped darting through the gloom.
The forest pressed in around them—sunlight scarcely touched the leaf-littered floor. Every snapping twig, every rustle of hidden wings sent Raine's pulse soaring.
Then a crack—a missile's whistle through the air.
"Down!" Karrion bellowed.
A black arrow skimmed Raine's hair, burying itself in the trunk of the oak beside him. Smoke curled from the shaft, and an ambush erupted.
Figures clad in dusky leathers appeared like phantoms between the trees, bows drawn, blades glinting. They moved in perfect unison, seasoned killers in pursuit.
"Take cover!" Karrion roared, swinging his hammer to deflect another flying arrow.
Raine rolled into cover behind a mossy trunk, heart slamming against his ribs. The trackers flitted from tree to tree, their attacks ceaseless and precise.
Karrion charged out, roaring like an enraged bear, his warhammer smashing against bows and shields. "Show yourselves, cowards!"
A pursuer loomed behind Raine, dagger raised for a killing thrust. Raine twisted free just in time as the blade whistled past his ribs.
A whisper of darkness flickered, and the assailant stumbled, eyes widening as if lost in a sudden hallucination. Raine seized the moment, kicking him aside.
"Over here!" Thalia's voice cut through the fray. At the whisper of her words, the hunters faltered, as though drawn by an unseen spell.
Karrion roared and grabbed Raine's arm. "Run!"
They dashed toward a dry gully at the forest's edge, arrows thudding around them. Thalia trailed the last, her fingers weaving shadow-shaping runes that baffled their foes long enough for the three to plunge into the rocky channel.
Stones and dust flew under their frantic feet. Behind them, the hunters' curses faded as the ravine swallowed their pursuers.
Panting and trembling, the trio collapsed beside a boulder. Karrion leaned heavily on his hammer, chest heaving. Raine bent over, hands on his knees, blood prickling at his ribs. Thalia rested against the rock's cool face, staff gripped like a lifeline.
"Well," Karrion panted, "that'll teach them not to toy with dwarves and their companions." He spat on the ground.
Raine forced a grin through ragged breaths. "Are they Church? Bandits? Unseen shadows?"
Karrion shook his head, dark eyes flicking between his two friends. "Whoever they are, they're good—and they want us dead."
Thalia's silver gaze drifted westward, toward the horizon the hunters had come from. "They're closing in," she murmured. "And they sense the blood we carry."
Raine clenched his fists. "Then we must press on. We cannot let them corral us."
Thalia nodded once, exhaustion and resolve warring on her pale features. "This night is far from over."
And so, battered but unbowed, they rose once more—and pressed deeper into the shadowed wilds, with the echo of unseen footsteps behind them and the weight of destiny ahead.