Inside the Citadel – Council Chamber
The chamber was dim, lit only by the pale light slanting through narrow windows. A brazier crackled quietly in the corner as the elders stood before the high backed chair of Patriarch Elyrion.
Elder Aelric, the brother of former patriarch, now old, stepped forward, his tone heavy.
"Belenor has infiltrated our lands... and yet we ended the war. If Hendrix were to hear this, he would be infuriated."
He paused, then added sharply,
"Our forces are still stationed at the border despite the so called ceasefire. They've used it to open another front. Each passing day, they gain ground."
Elyrion said nothing.
"At least we have the Academy as our ally," Aelric muttered, almost as if to reassure himself.
Another elder, Elder Casren, cleared his throat.
"And what of the ceasefire, Patriarch? Should we wait until they've swallowed the Crescent whole?"
Elyrion raised a hand.
"For now… the ceasefire holds."
"We will observe what they do once we eliminate this infiltrating batch."
Elder Theren, more reserved, spoke up for the first time.
"I've heard reports that these so-called infiltrators are refugees, settlers fleeing war and ruin. Perhaps we're reacting too harshly."
Elyrion's gaze turned cold.
"We are not kind enough to offer them land after they brought us years of bloodshed. The ceasefire is mercy enough."
Just then, a servant entered, bowing respectfully.
"My lord, the Academy has dispatched a field unit, four instructors and a selection of elite cadets and students. They departed at first light."
Elyrion allowed a faint nod.
"That is some good news at last."
He turned back toward the window, watching the mists gather on the horizon.
"Let us hope they return with better news."
_____
"I've been appointed as the officer in charge of this unit," Instructor Valerick said, addressing the assembled students and cadets with folded arms and a firm gaze. "Most of the operational work will be overseen by your instructors. The cadets will assist in managing field activities and patrols. As for the students, you are not to engage in combat. The Dean has permitted your presence only for observation. But make no mistake: this is dangerous ground. If you encounter one of them, don't try to be brave. Run."
A heavy pause.
"There are four instructors, four cadets, and six students. We'll divide into two field posts, each with two instructors, two cadets, and three students. While you won't be fighting, you will still be expected to contribute: field maintenance, supply work, basic logistics. Remember, this is a civilian zone. We've received conflicting reports about their behavior, some claim they're peaceful, others… not so much. Regardless, our task is to identify and apprehend them."
Larsen, half-listening at the back, blinked and whispered to himself, "Oh, Fiona will be there too?"
He leaned back with a quiet exhale.
Her engagement's next month...
Not that I care, he thought. I don't even like her much. Whenever she's around, Stephen won't listen to me at all. She's my cousin too, but whatever.
Just then, the sound of wheels and hooves echoed across the courtyard. Several large, field carriages rolled in, sturdy wooden constructs with armored plating and reinforced axles. Their arrival stirred murmurs among the students.
"They'll take us to Dervath Hollow," Valerick announced. "A remote village a little far from the cliffs of the Moran's Reach. Quiet place, nestled between mountain and sea. Not much happens there… which is exactly why we're going."
"From there, we'll march up into the mountains near the Moran Reach," Valerick continued, his voice steady. "We'll assess the geography and establish our forward posts accordingly. Is that clear?"
The cadets and students stood tall, backs straight, lined in disciplined rows beneath the blue morning sky.
"Yes, sir!" they answered in unison, their voices sharp and resolute, though some carried the tremble of nerves behind the tone.
As the carriages creaked forward and left the Academy gates behind, the students settled into their seats, some staring out the window, others fidgeting with their robes or weapons. The air buzzed with a quiet mix of excitement and tension.
In one of the carriages, Fiona Sorrel found herself seated across from Larsen. She brightened as she noticed him.
"Oh! Larsen, you're here too?" she smiled. "I almost forgot about my genius cousin."
Larsen gave a half smile, looking out the window.
"You shouldn't be nervous, okay?" Fiona added, reaching forward a little. "I'm here. Your sister's here. Even Kael's here. If you need anything, you can just tell me. Okay?"
"It's nothing. I'm not going to be on the front lines anyway" Larsen replied quietly.
"But still… thanks."
Fiona tilted her head. "For what?"
"Nothing," he said quickly, eyes still on the road outside.
She studied him for a second, then chuckled lightly. "No need to get all anxious, alright? I know you get scared sometimes. Your mother told me."
Larsen gave a short, dry exhale, not quite a laugh.
Fiona grinned playfully. "Don't worry, cousin. I've got your back."
Larsen glanced away, keeping his expression neutral.
But he said nothing. Just nodded faintly, letting her talk.
In truth, he felt a strange mix of relief and discomfort, relief that someone spoke to him with warmth, and discomfort because he wasn't used to it. Not anymore. Not from her. Not from anyone.
____
They reached Dervath Hollow, a settlement too large to be called a village, yet too small for a town, just enough life to feel watched, and just enough silence to feel forgotten.
As the carriages pulled into the inn, booked in advance by the Clan Citadel, Instructor Valerick stood and addressed the group.
"Rest tonight. We march at sunrise."
The students disembarked. The inn, though modest, overlooked a ridge where the mountains dipped into fog-wrapped cliffs. The wind carried a crisp scent of pine and ocean mist.
"It's a beautiful place," Larsen said quietly, gazing at the horizon. "I don't get why anything evil would want to come here."
The next morning, they rode the carriages to the far edge of Dervath Hollow, where the road thinned and the woods grew darker and denser. Fog curled around the base of the mountains ahead, and even the birds seemed to fall silent.
The carriages came to a slow halt on uneven ground. The driver, an old man with tired eyes, glanced at Valerick but didn't step down.
"This is as far as I go," he said, voice low. "No roads beyond this."
Valerick nodded. "Understood. You may go. We'll release you from your suffering."
The old man gave a grim smile. "You'd be wise not to follow where the road ends."
He cracked the reins, and the horses turned. Within moments, the sound of wheels faded into mist.
Silence returned, deep and still.
Ahead lay the wilderness. Untouched and Waiting.