The tunnel opened to soft daylight and a wide, broken expanse.

  Astrid’s eyes adjusted to the new landscape around her. They were in a crater, once mined flat by dwarves. The land was scarred—iron rails snapped and overgrown, collapsed stone elevators now dens for moss and stubborn flowers. A thin wind skated across the ground. The air smelled of dust and distant water.

  Peaceful, quiet. Almost soothing. Too soothing.

  “It already feels different out here,” she said, shielding her eyes. They had just spent two hours in total darkness, guided only by the soft flame from Kurai’s fingertips.

  “Don’t let it fool you.”

  She couldn’t help but worry about Rundrin and Galgur, all the dwarves back at the forge. It must have been written on her face.

  Kurai nudged her shoulder. “They’re a tough bunch. Remember?” he said with his best reassuring smile.

  She nodded, feeling slightly reassured but still guilty.

  All I do is bring trouble to others.

  They began to make their way up and out of the old mining outpost—half-sunken into earth, rusted gears strewn like bones.

  Kurai paused. Astrid almost walked straight into him, lost in her thoughts.

  “Ah—crap, don’t stop like that,” she muttered, stumbling as she caught herself on the slope.

  “Tracks,” Kurai said, crouching down to inspect the ground. Astrid peered over his shoulder. Not dwarfish. Not theirs. Animal?

  “Just looks like a dog or something. Definitely not the Enforcers,” she shrugged.

  Kurai stood up sharply, grabbing her hand just before she could walk past him. “Stay behind me,” he said, voice low and heavy.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “What? Kurai, it’s probably just a stray or something. We’re in the wilderness—there’ll be animals.” She paused as she looked at his face. He wasn’t telling her something. “…Right?”

  His head snapped toward the top of the ridge. Her eyes followed his.

  There—standing like a ghost under a tree, almost hidden in the shadow—was a wolf? No. Not quite. Its form was wrong. Flickering at the edges. Like smoke in the shape of a wolf.

  “A Barghest,” Kurai said, his voice a low growl.

  “A what?”

  He didn’t answer at first. His gaze didn’t leave the ridge. “A tracker. They’re not supposed to leave the shadows.”

  Suddenly, he conjured a fireball and threw it at the beast. It hit, and the creature dissolved into air.

  Astrid grabbed onto Kurai’s sleeve. “Is it gone?”

  “For now. But it’s not gone.” He scanned the ridge again. “Thankfully, they just watch from the shadows. Not a direct threat, but still nothing to be casual about either.”

  Wow. An actual explanation, from this guy?

  They kept moving. Astrid walked a few steps behind, hugging her cloak.

  No sound except the wind. Distant birdsong. Even Kurai didn’t speak for a while.

  She couldn’t stand the silence. “You sure it will be back? It looked like you got rid of it.”

  “I’m not certain. But I’d rather not take chances,” he said flatly.

  Kurai didn’t explain further. He stayed sharp—eyes scanning every flicker of light, listening for the wrong kind of wind, waiting for a blade of grass to twitch the wrong way.

  They continued to make their way out of the abandoned mine. Quiet, careful, and watching.

  The path curved upward, revealing scorched air and the faint smell of smoke—something recent, as they crest the ridge there was a sight they weren’t expecting—a burned-out caravan.

  Supply packs charred. Scorch marks deep in the stone—but not natural. The air still carried the acrid scent of burned cloth and something chemical, unnatural.

  Astrid spotted a charred scarf tangled in the stone. Small. Like a child’s. She swallowed hard.

  Kurai held out his arm, motioning for Astrid to stay back as he moved closer to investigate.

  “Enforcers?” she asked.

  Kurai knelt beside a satchel. “No. Bandits. All the supplies have been looted, see?” He pointed to the empty bag. “They used fire magic. How can the Council allow a group of thugs to be running around using that kind of magic?”

  Astrid moved closer. “Fire magic? Like yours?”

  Kurai stood, dusting off his legs. “Nowhere near as strong. But still just as dangerous.”

  He walked over to her. “Come on, let’s find somewhere safe for the night. Hopefully these guys draw the Council’s attention.”

  Her eyes lingered on the caravan.

  Fire magic. Like Kurai’s.

  Were they simply bandits?

  They made their way towards the forest in the distance.

  Keeping a look out for somewhere safe for the night and watching the shadows but their little ghost friend didn’t reappear, this didn’t ease kurai very much though.

  Night falls. They stop in a shallow outcropping. Small fire. Wind in the trees above.

  Astrid offers Kurai a bit of dry bread. Their fingers brush briefly.

  He pulls his hand away, too quickly. “Sorry,” he said, just as fast.

  She shook her head. “You’re acting differently.”

  “Oh gods, not this again,” he said dramatically.

  “You’re going soft on me, Kurai,” she teased, poking his arm.

  He grabbed her hand gently. “No, I’m still the—what do you call it? Brooding guy? That you’ve come to know,” he said, putting on his most serious face.

  They shared a look, both trying to stay serious but then let out a low chuckle. The moment stretched, quiet and warm.

  The fire crackles. As Astrid leans on her pack, eyelids heavy. She watches Kurai, as usual he is keeping look out eyes on the horizon. She blinked, once, twice, three times each slower than the last, finally falling into a deep slumber.

  On the horizon, barely visible—a second flame flares for just a second.