"So, you came to give little old Aylin her little play kit, huh?" Barek said with a teasing grin.
"Hey, Dad! It's not a play kit !" Aylin huffed, arms crossed and cheeks puffed out in defiance. "It's for brewing! real brewing!"
Barek chuckled, shaking his head. "Sure, sure. Today it's forest berry tea, tomorrow it's boom-half the Guild post in flames."
Aylin scowled but smiled under it, hugging the kit closer to her chest.
Harkin trailed slightly behind them, the forest canopy casting shifting shadows on the dirt path. He scratched the back of his neck. He didn't really have a destination in mind and the quiet company was oddly refreshing.
"Might as well head toward Craigspine Court," he muttered. "Not like anyone's waiting for me elsewhere."His gaze drifted up to the shifting canopy. The thought of Craigspine stirred something-half a memory, half a name-but it slipped away before he could catch it.
They kept walking for a while, the forest path winding beneath shifting shadows. At some point, Coco had leapt onto Harkin's shaggy, wolfish hair and made a nest of it — claiming it as its rightful throne."
They kept moving through the dense Tredus, the air thick with sap and silence. Harkin and Barek scanned every inch of their surroundings, eyes flicking from twisted roots to the canopy above, alert for the snap of a twig or a glint of steel.
Behind them, Aylin skipped along the dirt path, the oversized kit bouncing against her side with each step. She hummed a tune — some old tune a local bard would play — and twirled a strange red berry between her fingers, holding it up to catch the filtered sunlight through the leaves.
"Hmm… too squishy for jam," she muttered to herself, squinting at the speckled bright skin. "Maybe a tint for potion stains? Or hair dye? Ooh, maybe both."
She paused to sniff it, wrinkling her nose in thought.
Lost in her thoughts, Aylin barely noticed how the forest had quieted. No birdsong, no buzzing bugs, just the soft crunch of her boots on the trail and the uneasy glances the men were casting into the trees.
But for now, in her world of berries and bubbling ideas, danger hadn't arrived. Not yet.
"Barek - grab Aylin and move!" Harkin shouted, his voice sharp as flint.
Before either could react, he lunged forward and shoved them both aside.
An instant later, every instinct in his body screamed.
From the treeline, a blur exploded out lean, fast, and deadly. A masked man, all angles and speed, his blade flashing in the dappled light.
Harkin twisted just in time, the steel slicing air where his throat had been.
But he barely had time to register the dodge when the ground behind him thudded - heavy, wrong.
He turned.
A second figure charged out of the undergrowth towering, monstrous, at least two feet taller than Harkin and thick with muscle. The man's arms were shackled together by thick black chains, as if he'd chosen to limit himself.
He raised both bound fists and brought them down like a hammer.
The earth cracked.
Harkin was flung back like a ragdoll, slamming into a tree with a sickening crack. Bark splintered. The wind left his lungs in a gasp as Harkin coughed up blood.
"What in the f—" Harkin muttered, eyes wide.
The brute was already on him.
Harkin ducked under a wild swing and slammed his knee into the side of the brute's head - the kind of blow that used to take skulls clean off.
But not this time.
The brute merely staggered. A spurt of blood flew from his mouth - and he kept coming.
That's new.
Harkin's mind raced. This one had training. Not just raw strength - technique. Conditioning.
He rolled aside as another massive fist cratered the earth where he'd been. Dirt and splinters exploded into the air.
Harkin tightened his stance, fists coiled like springs.
Then came the others.
Seven-maybe more-charging through the underbrush, weapons raised and eyes wild. Looters.
He moved first. His fist shot forward and caved in the skull of the nearest attacker, the man's body crumpling to the forest floor before the others could blink.
But that split-second kill cost him.
A monstrous hand snatched his leg .
"The hell.."
Before he could even react, the world turned sideways. Coco fell off Harkins head and ran off.
WHAM!His body slammed into the ground.
WHAM!Dragged up and smashed to the other side.
WHAM!Left again.
WHAM!Right again.
WHAM!Back to the left.
WHAM!Right one more time.
The Brute hurled Harkin like a ragdoll, his body crashing through underbrush before skidding to a painful stop.
Before he could catch a breath, the Masked man was on him, blade flashing.
Shhhlick-
The sword sliced across Harkin's torso, drawing a sharp line of pain. He staggered, teeth clenched. The wound wasn't deep-not enough to kill. The hardened toughness granted by his Mark had spared him.
Through the ringing in his ears, he heard Barek's voice-low, urgent.
"Aylin dear, eyes shut no peeking.Hold coco tightly.Dont move at all."
The words grounded him.
Harkin lifted his head just in time to see Bareks fists crash into the masked man's face.
CRACK!
There was a sickening crunch, and blood sprayed inside the mask as the figure collapsed limply onto the ground.
Then came a world shattering roar. A guttural, inhuman sound that vibrated the trees.
"No, Master! Master!"
The Brute bellowed, head snapping back in a primal cry of anguish. The chains around its arms rattled as it stomped toward them, rage thick enough to choke the air.
"Harkin, do you think you can handle this one on your own?" Barek asked. "I don't think I can fight anymore. I might have just discovered someth-"
The Brute roared and thrashed, swinging its chained arms in wild arcs—smashing through looters and trees alike, uncaring who it hit.
Harkin exchanged a quick glance with Barek and smirked.
"Yeah, sure. Alright."
He ducked beneath a thunderous punch, the wind of it brushing past his cheek. He weaved right, this time slipping the next blow clean, and hammered an overhand into the Brute's skull. Bone met brute flesh with a thud.
Harkin didn't stop. He ducked low, slammed a quick one-two into the gut, then twisted his hips and cracked a spinning elbow into the creature's shoulder.
The Brute snarled and retaliated—a brutal headbutt that caught Harkin off-guard and launched him backwards, crashing into a clearing with a thud that shook the ground.
Dirt flew as Harkin rose again, breathing heavy.
Across from him, the Brute took a wide stance. One of its chained fists wound back, coiling like a spring.
The Brute's punch came like a cannon.
Harkin met it head-on, his fist colliding with the monster's.
Boom!
The shockwave burst outward, snapping two nearby trees clean in half. Bark exploded. Leaves scattered like ash.
The clearing quaked.
The collision sent a shockwave through the clearing, but neither fighter budged. The Brute's chained fist slammed into Harkin's again, this time with even more force-a thunderous crack echoing through the trees.
Harkin gritted his teeth, countering with a fierce punch of his own, the impact sending a tremor beneath their feet.
Boom. Boom.
Their fists collided again and again-six brutal strikes, each one rocking the ground, rattling nearby branches, and sending leaves swirling in chaotic spirals.
Harkin's muscles burned with effort, his breath sharp and ragged. The Brute's growls grew louder, fury fuelling its relentless assault.
Despite the crushing power behind each blow, Harkin held his ground, matching every strike with precision and strength.
With each clash, sparks seemed to fly from the sheer force of their fists meeting.
The world around them faded to the sound of pounding blows and the rhythm of their heavy breathing-two titans locked in a deadly dance, neither willing to give an inch.
Harkin backed away quickly, unsheathing his sword with a sharp hiss. The blade gleamed in the dappled forest light as he launched a flurry of precise slashes at the Brute's massive form. The brute barely dodged, its heavy limbs moving slower than Harkin's lightning-fast strikes.
Then, switching tactics, Harkin slammed the blunt side of his sword against the Brute's head with a solid crack. Before the brute could fully react, Harkin followed up with a sweeping kick to the same spot, driving the brute off balance-and with a brutal punch thrown at the same moment, the impact echoed like a hammer blow.
Suddenly, a voice pierced through the commotion.
"Mindless fuck!" one of the looters snarled, lunging forward and driving a sword deep into the Brute's shoulder.
Harkin froze for a moment, eyes wide. "The fuck....." The Brute-arguably the strongest fighter among the looters-didn't even retaliate. Instead, it screamed in pain but didn't move to strike back at the looter.
It was as if that lone attacker was somehow superior, or at least far more dangerous than the Brute had anticipated.
Harkin didn't hesitate to seize the moment. This was his chance.
Harkin unleashed a relentless barrage of slashes, the blade flashing like lightning as he dodged the Brute's heavy, thunderous blows. He punched the looter who had recklessly stabbed the Brute, sending him staggering aside before zeroing back in on the main threat.
The Brute suddenly drove a solid knee into Harkin's midsection. Pain exploded through his body, and for a moment, everything seemed to slow-his limbs heavy, breath shallow. But the sword still protruded from the Brute's shoulder, giving Harkin the edge.
Gritting his teeth, Harkin slashed again and again, carving shallow cuts along the brute's side. With a quick, brutal motion, he dug his sword deep into the wound, then followed up with a knee to the Brute's face. His fists rained down in a furious storm, each punch driving the beast closer to collapse.
The Brute's massive form faltered, trembling as it began to sink toward the ground. Harkin pulled free his sword, muscles coiled, ready to deliver the final, killing blow.
Suddenly, a hand gripped his arm, stopping him cold.
"No. Don't," came Barek's voice, calm but firm.
Harkin spun, surprise etched across his face. "What the fuck are you doin-?"
Barek shook his head. "Don't you realize? He's just a poor slave."