The wind howled through the trees like a beast starved of prey, rattling the branches and carrying the scent of damp earth and decay. The night was cold, colder than Eira had ever known it to be in Valebourne. The city, for all its smoke and grit, had held a kind of warmth in its broken bones. But out here, in the Wildlands, the cold was sharp. Real. It sank into her skin and stayed there.
Eira shivered and drew her cloak tighter around her shoulders. The rough wool scratched her neck, but she clung to it like a lifeline. Kaela moved ahead in silence, her steps graceful and unhurried, as if she'd walked this path a hundred times. She didn't look back, but Eira could feel her awareness, sharp and constant, like a blade just out of reach.
"Keep up," Kaela said suddenly, her voice cutting through the darkness like flint on stone. "The Veil's eyes are everywhere. Even out here. We don't stop moving."
Eira quickened her pace, stumbling over twisted roots and loose stones. Her legs ached, her breath clouded in the cold air. The city had been a cage, yes, but at least it had been familiar. Out here, the trees leaned too close, the shadows whispered too loud, and the silence between them was heavier than anything she had ever known.
She didn't know how long they walked, only that her body was sore and her mind frayed thin by the time Kaela finally stopped.
"We'll rest there," Kaela said, nodding toward a dark cluster of boulders ahead. "But stay alert. The Wildlands do not sleep."
Eira followed her gaze. The rocks jutted from the earth like the bones of some ancient creature. Nestled between them was a fire, its glow faint but steady. Around it sat three figures, motionless in the flickering light. They looked like shadows come to life, cloaked in ragged layers, their faces hidden beneath deep hoods.
"They're waiting for us," Kaela said quietly, her tone softened. "They've been watching you since the forge."
Eira stiffened. "Why didn't you tell me there would be others?"
"Because if I had, you might have run."
Her mouth went dry. She hated that Kaela was right.
Kaela led her closer, the fire casting a warm glow across the strangers' silhouettes. One of them stood. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with hands calloused from a lifetime of hardship. His face was lined but not old, and his eyes, when they met hers, were clear and hard. But not cruel.
"This is Torin," Kaela said. "Tracker. Survivor. He knows the Wildlands better than anyone."
Torin gave a nod, his voice low and coarse. "You don't look like much."
Eira's brow lifted. "Thanks."
He didn't smile, but something behind his eyes flickered. "Not an insult. Just truth. Out here, truth keeps you alive."
Kaela turned to the second figure. "This is Lena. A healer."
Lena pulled back her hood slowly. Her face was thin and angular, but her eyes, golden and unreadable seemed to shine brighter than the firelight. She looked at Eira for a long moment before speaking.
"She's already burning, isn't she?"
Eira blinked. "Burning?"
Instead of answering, Lena reached into a pouch at her hip and withdrew a small glass vial. Inside, a green liquid pulsed softly, like it had a heartbeat of its own.
"For the fever," Lena said. "It comes when the magic begins to wake. When your body starts fighting against what it doesn't understand."
Eira stared at the vial. "So it's real. What's happening to me. The fire. The warmth in my blood."
Kaela's gaze met hers. There was no cruelty there. Only a kind of understanding that made Eira's chest tighten.
"It's real," Kaela said. "And it's only the beginning."
Eira lowered herself onto the cold ground near the fire, hugging her knees to her chest. Her limbs ached. Her mind wouldn't quiet. She looked at Torin, then at Lena, trying to read what she could in the lines of their faces. Pain. Weariness. Memories they didn't speak of. She didn't know their stories, but she could feel them, like scars just beneath the skin.
"Why are you helping me?" Eira asked finally. "You don't even know me."
Kaela crouched beside her. "Because someone helped me once. When I was just a girl with fire in my veins and nowhere to run. And because if we don't help each other, the Veil wins."
The wind picked up again, colder now, and the trees groaned like they remembered things they wished they could forget. Eira felt that same pull in her chest, that warmth again, curling low beneath her ribs. A reminder of what she was becoming. Of what she could no longer ignore.
"Sleep," Kaela said softly. "Tomorrow, we begin your training. And after that, there is no going back. No Saint Mirelle's. No city. Just the truth of what you are."
Eira didn't answer. She stared into the fire until the shapes blurred. Her heart beat like a drum in her ears.