The moon dipped lower, shadows stretching across the grass like dark fingers. Kairo's group moved cautiously, every step deliberate, the distant ruckus of pursuit growing louder. Somewhere out there, hunters scoured the Trade Realm, drawn by the whispers of a bounty.
The man who had rescued them paused, kneeling in the tall grass. His eyes, weary but sharp, swept over the children. "Listen to me," he said firmly, voice cutting through the night's tension. "I know you're scared… and I know your power is strong. But let me warn you—do not let it consume you."
The children exchanged nervous glances. One of the younger ones whimpered, fingers clutching Kairo's sleeve.
"What do you mean?" one asked quietly.
The man's gaze hardened. "Anger, fear, revenge… they can feed the power in you, make it wild and uncontrollable. You'll think it's strength, but it will make you reckless. And in this world, recklessness gets you killed faster than swords or chains ever could."
Kairo crouched beside him, eyes crimson in the moonlight. He didn't speak, but his presence reinforced the warning. The children nodded, fear and understanding intertwining in their expressions.
In the distance, faint howls cut through the night air, followed by the subtle shuffle of figures moving with unnatural precision. Kairo's ears caught it before anyone else—a sound both human and predatory.
"The Black Knives… or the Hound," Igron muttered under his breath, his smirk gone, replaced with sharp focus. "They've noticed the commotion."
The children tensed, understanding for the first time the kind of predators their escape had attracted. The ruckus—hunters scrambling, nobles' agents searching—had drawn attention far beyond ordinary bounty seekers.
Kairo's crimson eyes scanned the horizon, calculating. "They'll test us," he said softly, almost to himself. "But if we remain calm, if we stay within control… we'll survive this night."
The man stood, brushing dirt from his ragged clothes. "Remember my words. Your power is a tool, not a weapon against yourselves. Keep it in check, or it will betray you."
Igron's grin returned, darker this time, like a shadow curling at the edge of firelight. "Let's see who's really ready."
And in the darkness, two forces—hunters drawn by gold, and predators drawn by instinct—moved closer, closing in on Kairo and the children. The night was alive with tension, and the first clash of shadows was inevitable.