The Ashen Wastes were not meant for daylight travel. The cracked earth gleamed pale under the early sun, reflecting the light in a way that burned the eyes and made the horizon shimmer like water. Dillon and Selene moved carefully along the base of a jagged ridge, their shadows stretching thin across the ground.
"You'll head north from here," Selene said, halting suddenly. "There's a neutral city called Brackenreach. I'll meet you there in a few days."
Dillon frowned. "Wait, you're just leaving me?"
"You'll have company."
Before he could ask what she meant, a faint whistle cut through the wind — and an arrow of shimmering light struck the ground at his feet. Dillon leapt back, startled, but the shaft dissolved into harmless motes of gold before he could blink.
From the ridge above, three figures descended with practiced ease.
The first was Chris Arkwright, grinning as he slung a sword over his shoulder. A faint hum came from the blade, as though it was alive. "Almost nailed your boot," he called. "Guess my aim's a little off this morning."
Next came Talia Greymist, hood drawn low, her eyes glinting with sly amusement. As she approached, the air shimmered around her, and for a moment Dillon swore she was standing in two places at once — until the second image of her flickered and vanished.
Last was Zain Hollowbrook, quiet and deliberate, his satchel clinking with glass vials. He crouched as he reached them, plucking a sprig of pale moss from the rock and tucking it away without a word.
Selene folded her arms. "Chris channels kinetic magic into his weapons — makes every swing count for ten. Talia's illusions will keep you alive when your blade can't. And Zain—"
"I deal in things that burn, heal, or both," Zain said simply.
Chris grinned and clapped Dillon's shoulder. "In other words, you're in good hands."
Dillon wasn't convinced. His eyes kept drifting to the faint golden lines crawling across his forearm — the same glow from last night, now fixed into an intricate mark. It pulsed faintly in rhythm with his heartbeat.
Talia noticed first. "That's no tattoo," she said softly.
Zain stepped closer, studying it. "A hunter's mark. Magical. Whoever placed it can track you anywhere in the realm."
A chill spread through Dillon's chest. "Who?"
Zain's eyes met his. "Someone powerful enough to see you no matter where you run. And by the feel of it—" He glanced to the horizon, where the sun bled into the haze. "They're already coming."
A/N:i told y'all that I'll make it up to you
Guess what? The hooded man is coming in the next episode or not 😁
See ya 👋 👋