The road east wound through dense forest and broken stone, once-paved paths long devoured by roots and moss. Few travelers passed this way. Fewer returned.
Kahel walked beside Lyren, who leaned slightly on a carved wooden staff she had fashioned from a branch that morning. Her wound still throbbed, though the old woman's remedy had dulled the poison.
She said little. Kahel didn't mind.
The silence between them wasn't awkward. Just quiet. Focused.
He studied her as they walked — the way she shifted her weight to avoid straining her arm, the disciplined way she breathed, her cautious glances toward the shadows in the trees. She moved like someone trained to fight.
"Ethereal Bloom Valley," Kahel said at last. "What's it like?"
Lyren glanced at him, surprised he'd spoken.
"It's... peaceful. Beautiful, really. Blossoms fall year-round. The air smells like wild tea leaves. But that's just the surface."
"And beneath?"
She looked away. "It's still a sect. Strength matters. Talent matters more. You either rise… or get stepped on."
Kahel didn't answer right away.
"I'm used to that," he said eventually. "The getting stepped on part."
Lyren glanced at him again, but said nothing.
By midday, they reached a narrow stone bridge arching over a deep gorge. Below, white mist roared between jagged cliffs, carrying the sound of unseen water.
Kahel paused at the bridge's edge. Something about it felt wrong.
Too quiet.
Lyren noticed too. Her hand hovered near her sword.
"Someone's here," she said.
A moment later, shadows moved.
Three figures stepped out from the far side of the bridge — two boys and a girl, all dressed in faded green robes with silver sashes.
Lyren stiffened. "Outer sect disciples. Jade Reign Pavilion."
The tallest of the group — a boy with oily hair and a crescent-scar across his cheek — sneered as he approached.
"Well, well. If it isn't Ethereal Bloom's icy flower," he said mockingly. "You look like you've wilted a little."
Lyren didn't respond.
Kahel stepped forward. "We're just passing through."
The scarred boy looked him up and down.
"And who's this? A stray you picked up in the woods?"
"He's not your concern," Lyren said coldly.
"Oh, but he is," the girl behind the leader said. "You're on Jade territory. And we don't like Bloom sect whelps trespassing."
Kahel felt the tension rising. His instincts buzzed. He looked at Lyren.
"Do we fight?"
She shook her head. "Not unless they start it."
The boy grinned. "Well, maybe I'll just take a look at what you're hiding. Something about him smells… strange."
Kahel's palm tingled.
The ashen flame stirred — not wildly, but like a breath drawn in.
Scarface stepped forward, raising a hand to Kahel's chest.
Mist thickened behind him.
And then—
A voice.
"Touch him, and lose that hand."
It wasn't Lyren.
Everyone turned.
From the trees on the far side of the gorge, a figure emerged — cloaked in black, face unseen. He moved slowly, but with the grace of someone long past needing speed.
The three Jade Reign disciples backed up instinctively.
Scarface scowled. "Who the hell are you?"
The cloaked man ignored him, walking straight toward Kahel and Lyren. His presence was like a weight — not crushing, but undeniable.
He stopped beside Kahel.
Lyren's hand went to her sword. "Friend of yours?"
Kahel shook his head. "No. But I've seen him."
The man didn't look at either of them.
"You've stepped into a world with sharp teeth, boy," he said softly. "They will come for you. The blood, the fire, the name. All of it. Be ready."
And then, like mist, he was gone — fading into the shadows between trees.
Scarface and the others looked shaken. For once, they said nothing.
They backed away slowly, then turned and fled into the woods.
Kahel stood still, heart pounding.
"That was him," he said. "The man who saved me from the beast."
Lyren stared after the vanishing trail of footprints.
"Who is he?"
Kahel didn't know.
But the scroll at his side grew warm.
Far away, in a dark chamber filled with floating crystals, a man in silver robes studied a glowing rune etched into stone.
It pulsed with the rhythm of flame.
"Stormborn," he whispered.
And across the realms, one more hunter awoke.