When the birds' chirping began and the first rays of the sun filtered through the tree trunks to illuminate the ground, the scout group that included Kael had already set out. They were a team of six. They had set out in the early hours of the morning for the watch change, barely speaking a word. They were going to change shifts with the Night Scouts.
When they left Flamepeak, the surroundings were filled with deforested patches. These lands, once dominated by bushes, thorny vines, and waist-high grass, had now been transformed into areas cleared by controlled burning, the soil still warm. Collapsed tree roots were scattered across the surface like coiled giant snakes. As soon as the sun rose, the foresters would rush out with axes on their shoulders. "Open land is life, is safety," the teachers would say. Vegetation meant hiding places. An advantage for the Gavahrs. A grave for humans.
Kael adjusted his bag's strap. He could still feel his skin aching. He owed this pain to yesterday's long mountain trek. He placed his hand between the strap and his shoulder.
"Keep your eyes open," said group leader Iren, seeing the forest and vegetation beginning to thicken again.
Iren was a woman with broad shoulders, taller than most men. Kael didn't know her age but thought she was in her fifties. Her eyes were dark brown, but they remained so fixed and hard when looking that you'd feel frozen for a moment. Her face had sharp features; years spent with sun, wind, and earth had aged her early but hadn't weakened her. The calluses on her hands looked older than the rifle and bow on her back.
She was the person whose word was heeded in the team, but she spoke mostly by looking, not by shouting. Her sentences were short, her instructions clear. Everyone in Flamepeak knew that before becoming a scout, she would climb the walls and wait for dawn alone. Everyone in the team thought different things about her, sometimes gathering the courage to ask. But Iren never confirmed any rumors, never gave clear answers to any questions.
For Kael, she was more of a goal than an example. An unreachable height, but one that was always there. Looking at her, he would always think: "This woman is still alive because she hasn't had time to die."
Kael's eyes continued scanning the surroundings as they walked. The sun's warmth had decreased considerably, and they had begun to feel the cold wind passing through the tree trunks. The ground had softened further, sinking slightly when they stepped on it.
"It seems impossible to get rid of these plants," said someone from behind, Erav. "They're like ants, you destroy them in one place, they emerge from another. Even if we clear for forty years, they'll come back in the fiftieth."
"And the scouts will go again," Ean grumbled. "As always."
It was supposed to be funny, but no one was in the mood to laugh. Branton came up behind him and lightly tapped his shoulder as if to say "stop talking."
As they approached the watch post, the team naturally slowed down. Only nature's sounds echoed around them. As usual, there were no jokes and laughter that the night watchmen would make to cheer each other up. No greeting to welcome them, nor a whistle to signal someone approaching the watch post.
Iren raised her hand, and everyone pointed their flintlock rifles and pistols around them. They listened intently to their surroundings. After waiting for about a minute, they slowly advanced toward the camp area in the clearing ahead.
The fire had gone out. Pots were overturned, one of the tents was torn. Apart from a few bird cries, there wasn't a sound. Kael's throat tightened. They found the first body at the foot of a tree. The blood had clotted, eyes remained dull and open. The torso had been torn to pieces.
In the next few steps, behind the water tank, they found seven more bodies scattered around a pit.
"They must have died no more than four hours ago," said Iren as she knelt down. She surveyed the camp area and checked the weapons near the bodies. "It was a sudden attack. They didn't even have a chance to use their weapons. The overturned pots and plates suggest they were probably attacked while eating. Likely the work of a single Gavahr. Two at most."
Silence fell.
Kael held his breath. One of the bodies - though not very close - was his friend Juno. They had trained together just a few days ago, he was a quiet boy. His head had fallen back, one eye crushed, mouth completely open, and most of his teeth were missing. Someone had held his face so tightly while pulling out his teeth that it had mangled his face. There wasn't a single trace left on his face to remind anyone that it once belonged to Juno.
Everyone stood in their places, both fearing and accepting that something like this could happen to them at any moment. Iren was the one who broke the silence again.
"Kael. Sera. Collect the bodies. Check the tags. Make sure they're not forgotten. Then transport the bodies back to the city." She stood up. "The others, we'll look for tracks. Two people are missing. Search for any traces - Gavahr tracks, human tracks, animal tracks."
As everyone began scanning the area, Kael turned to Sera. When she saw Kael looking at her, she immediately averted her gaze. Kael sighed deeply, took out his notebook and pen from his inner pocket. He flipped through dozens of pages covered with writing and blood stains and opened a new page. When he looked to where Sera had been standing to give her the notebook, he realized she was no longer there. She had gone to Iren and was talking with her about something.
He brought the small wooden cargo cart - normally pulled by horses, but since there were no horses to spare for scouts, they had to pull it themselves - next to the bodies. He put down all his equipment - a flintlock pistol, short sword, and bag. First, he gently laid the body near the tree on its back. He looked at the tag on the body's neck.
Field Notebook Case No: K-26 Location: North Watch Camp Area Time: 08:24
Body 1: Male. Night Scout Name: Cerza
Deep lacerations in neck and chest area. Bones exposed. Most of the flesh removed. Heart and lungs missing. No signs of close combat found. Weapon unfired. No expression of fear on face — may have died quickly. Note: Attack must have occurred at night. Ground shows drag marks. But very short distance. Branches around the body broken. Claw marks on tree trunk.
After writing, he lifted the body onto the cargo cart. His hands were bloody but there was nothing he could do. He went to the bodies behind the water tank.
He focused on the pit for a while. The bodies were laid out almost a meter away from the pit. There was an additional digging from each body toward the pit. They hadn't dug a pit themselves. The Night Scouts had no reason to dig a pit either. It was clearly the work of a gavahr. He looked at the bodies scattered around the pit. He couldn't make much sense of it from the ground, thinking he needed to look from above.
He climbed onto the water tank and sketched what he saw in his notebook. He stared at the shape for a long time, trying to understand it. It was clear someone had deliberately tried to create this image.
In the notebook drawing, there was a central circle with 8 lines radiating from it. At the end of each line were bodies that looked like crumpled leaves. The overall appearance resembled a symmetrical sun, star, or perhaps a flower.
Body 2: Female. Night scout Name: Litha
Received blow to head area. Skull appears broken — unsure if from a hard fall or heavy blow. Weapon not in holster. Found on ground, broken. High blood concentration around body. Death may have been slow. Excrement(?) residue on body. At least smells like it. Possibility of wild animal. Clothes extensively torn. Almost naked. Note: Could be one of the rare examples left untouched by Gavahrs. Maybe deemed useless while alive. We still don't know why they were left. Number of bodies left behind is higher than usual.
He checked each body one by one and took notes, then loaded them onto the cargo cart. After the third body, Sera had come to his side but neither said anything nor seemed inclined to help.
Body 6: Male. Night scout Name: Juno (tag missing) Age: 22-24. Was quiet. Had patrol training together just a few days ago.
Body unrecognizable. Lower jaw broken. Most teeth removed. Some appear to have been pulled out by the roots. Why? Left eye caved in. Deep three-finger-shaped depression on left side of face. Neck broken. Note: This attack doesn't seem done with animal hunger. An anger, or... something else. Perhaps ritualistic?? Juno's body is a bit away from the group. Why was he alone? Why was he the most damaged?
Body 8: Male. Night Scout Name: None
Throat torn out. Eye sockets empty, looks like gavahr work. Hands raised toward face, as if praying. Fingers twisted into abnormal shapes, broken. Chest area collapsed. Bone fractures visible.
General Note: 8 of 10 bodies from the night group are here. 2 still missing. The deliberate arrangement of the bodies is disturbing. Could this be more of a display than an attack? Are they trying to tell us something with this symbol? What exactly is this shape? A sun, star, flower, or something else entirely? Warning or game? I'm experiencing déjà vu, as if I've seen this image somewhere before. Whatever it is, I've burned this image into my mind.
Personal Note (scrawled in the edge, with shaky handwriting): Juno was one of the first to talk to me. That boy who expected nothing from anyone, came up and offered me water on the first day. "Your face is very tense, what was your name by the way?" he had said. His face was always calm. Now it's gone. Now there's nothing left of that face.
Juno shouldn't have been here. That boy in this state... toothless, eyeless, unrecognizable... I hate it. I hate myself, this place, everything. I wish he hadn't been alone that night. I wish I had been with him. Maybe I could have changed something. I, who was never useful while alive, could have at least been useful in death. Somehow, I will repay my debt to him.
When he finished taking notes, he noticed his pages were bloody again. He put the notebook in his bag. After one last look at the bodies, he covered them all with tent canvas. He put his bag in the empty space next to the bodies. He moved to the front of the cargo cart, slowly lifted it to check the weight, then began to move forward.
Before approaching Kael, Sera looked around one more time. Perhaps she wanted to talk, or perhaps she wanted to run away. But she only averted her eyes. Keeping her distance, she began to follow him silently.
Kael was carefully pulling the cart along the cleared scout path. Thanks to his large build and extraordinary strength, he could carry this heavy load alone. Iren's choice of him for this task had been apt - he was already familiar with corpse transport from similar previous duties.
After pulling the cart for about ten minutes, he stopped to rest. He took his leather flask from his bag and drank a little water; he had been sweating. He noticed that Sera was still keeping her distance.
When Sera saw him looking at her, she couldn't bear the silence and tension anymore. She thought she should break the silence.
"Is there anything I can help with?" Sera asked.
"I'll manage," he said while putting the flask back.
"Are you afraid of the gavahrs?" she said, then continued after a slight pause. "I've never seen a gavahr except for the cadavers they showed us at school. I'm afraid I'll freeze if I ever encounter one. Today, when I saw the bodies like that... I felt terrible."
"I'm not afraid of gavahrs. They're just animals that need to be killed. They look like us. No, look like is the wrong word. They merely resemble us. If it were up to me, I'd wipe them all out without batting an eye."
Sera remained silent for a while. She took a deep breath, gathered her courage. "They told me the cadavers we saw at school were 'faded.' The normal ones are supposedly larger, taller, and lighter in color, like ghosts."
"What are you trying to say?" Kael cut in, clearly becoming aggressive. "We went to the same school, and I've already seen gavahrs before. If you have something to say, be direct."
Sera waved her hands in denial. "No, no! I just thought... if I saw a living gavahr, maybe my fear would diminish."
"Or maybe it would increase." Kael lifted the cart again. "Let's continue."
They took several more breaks along the way. When they reached the road cleared by the foresters, pulling the cart became much easier for Kael. As they proceeded along the stone-paved road, the foresters working nearby noticed the cart and saluted in their own way, then bowed their heads and returned to their work. These salutes became more frequent as they approached the city. Kael noticed that familiar concern in everyone's eyes - as if each of them lived with the fear of seeing their loved ones in the next cart.
They entered through the wide-open city gate. It was always open in the mornings. To keep the bodies away from people's eyes, the morgue was connected to a semi-underground center built right under the north wall. It wasn't just a place where bodies were received and examined; it also housed a "Crisis Table" where crisis information, attack reports, and threat analyses from outer patrols and watches were collected.
The guard opened the door when he saw Kael coming. "How many this time?" he asked.
"Eight."
He entered the building, passing under the "morgue" sign above the wide door. The air inside was freezing cold. He pushed the cart to the loading dock and left it there. A woman emerged from the room right next to the dock.
She was middle-aged, well-dressed but looking tired. She lifted the canvas covering the cart and looked at the bodies.
"May the gods protect you scouts. The losses are far too heavy this time. Did you take notes as I told you?"
"Yes, you can be sure it's exactly as you wanted this time. Are you sure you don't want to take the notebook?"
"No, no! Keep your blood-stained notebook. I can't read your writing anyway."
"Taking gloves on and off constantly takes too much time. This is faster."
The woman examined the first body. Meanwhile, Kael began reading his notes about the first corpse.
"You've finally learned to write! There's hope for you yet, Kael." The woman slightly opened the door to the room right next to them and showed the autopsy papers on the table. "While I position the bodies, since you're here, transfer your notes to the 'field autopsy' section."
"I thought you couldn't read them?" Kael said wearily.
"At least try to write neatly."
"I'll do it, my handwriting is good," Sera interjected.
The woman nodded at Sera. Kael handed the notebook to Sera, and she went inside.
While transporting the bodies, Kael paused for a brief break. He wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath. Just as he was about to resume his work, he spotted a familiar face in the corridor — Security Chief Captain Drevin. Kael urgently needed to speak with this man. "I'll be right back," he said, hurrying after him.
"Sir!" he called out.
Drevin turned around when he heard someone calling him. Seeing Kael covered in blood, he sighed deeply and loosened his tie. He was a well-built man in his forties with short hair. He always looked sharp in his suit.
"What happened this time?" Drevin asked wearily.
Kael approached the man and began speaking with slight anger.
"Sir, with all due respect, we continue to lose people. We must abandon the night watches. They serve no purpose except causing casualties."
"You know this isn't up to just you or me. It's a collectively made decision. Unless the entire Table meets and votes otherwise, there's nothing we can do."
"Sir, if you express your opinions, I'm sure several people would listen to you," said Kael, growing increasingly angry.
"I'm not the Table Lord. Offering advice or suggestions to the Table would jeopardize my hard-earned status," he raised his voice. Then, placing his hand on Kael's shoulder, he continued. "I'm sure the Night Scouts will eventually succeed. Sooner or later, we'll find their dens."
Kael stepped back. Drevin's hand fell into empty space. "What will happen if we find their dens? Let's say that tiny possibility comes true. Someone finds the gavahrs' location and manages to return without being seen, caught, or killed to tell us where they are. Then what? What will we do?"
"We'll gather all our forces and attack with everything we have. We'll destroy their nests when they least expect it."
"Sir! Please think!" Kael was almost shouting. "Even if we learn their location, we won't be able to do anything..." He gestured toward the bodies at the end of the corridor. "Just one or two gavahrs are worth almost ten of our well-trained, well-equipped soldiers! The Night Scouts have been working for years. And what have they found? Absolutely nothing. How many gavahrs have they killed? Twelve? And how many people have we lost? Nearly a thousand!"
"Enough, Kael!"
"What will we do if we find them? What will we do if we encounter hundreds, thousands of them? What will we do with our military force of three thousand? We must abandon the Night Scouts idea. We must avoid needless loss of life. Maybe if we develop new methods, we can find a way to track them without casualties."
Drevin shook his head. "You're a good scout, Kael, but young and impatient. The only thing we can do is continue with the options we have. Tonight, new Night Scouts will be at their posts. I'll need to gather a new team now. Now you do your job, and I'll do mine." Then he left the morgue.
Kael stood in the middle of the corridor for a while, clenching his fists. His black hair fell over his face as he lowered his head. He stood there in the middle of the corridor, filled with anger and helplessness. He felt guilty that he couldn't prevent people's deaths. Unable to know what to do in the face of Drevin's unresponsiveness and the system's immutability, he remained lost in thought for a long time.
Meanwhile, a distant observer silently watched the situation from their hiding place, recording every word of the tense conversation between Kael and Drevin in their mind.