The room was quiet, torches crackling faintly against the stone walls. The six champions were scattered around the table, each sunk into their own rhythm—nursing a cup of tea,scribbling notes in a leather journal, staring at nothing.
The heavy door creaked open. Captain Thorne entered with the kind of stride that made boots echo against old stone. He paused, taking in the stillness, before inclining his head.
"My apologies for the sudden summons," he said, voice steady but clipped. "I'd give you more time to rest if I could, but this can't wait. His Majesty won't be joining us; state matters demand his attention."
Jace's gaze drifted to the map laid out on the table, its edges curling from use.
"Three days ago," Thorne began, tapping a red-inked mark, "we lost contact with Riverfall. A small outpost, two hundred people at most, but it holds the river crossing linking the eastern provinces to the capital."
Jace followed the line of the river with his eyes, tracing how it cut the kingdom in two. If that crossing was taken, whole provinces could be stranded.
"What kind of contact did we lose?" Kael asked, already thinking three moves ahead.
"Everything. No birds, no magical messages, no runners. The last report mentioned a rise in monster activity, but nothing the militia couldn't handle." Thorne's mouth pressed into a grim line. "Considering what we've seen of corrupted villagers… we have to assume the worst."
"Zorak's scouts," Dren declared, his confidence sliding into the room like oil. "He's probing defenses, timing our response. This is his style before a larger strike."
"Maybe," Thorne allowed, "but we'll know soon. Two strike teams will go, one from the north, one from the south. If it's a trap, we don't risk all the champions at once."
He produced a leather pouch filled with smooth stones. "Assignments will be random. That way, no one can predict how we'll split."
Dren stepped forward immediately, golden hair catching torchlight like a crown. "I'll lead the first team. I have command experience—"
"The draws are random for a reason, Champion," Thorne cut him off. "Everyone draws. Then we sort."
Dren's jaw flexed, irritation slipping through his polished expression, but he reached into the pouch first, pulling a stone. One by one the others followed: Jace, Tor, Kael, Zara, Elliot. None looked until Thorne gave the order.
"Reveal."
Hands opened. Dren held white. Tor and Kael as well. Jace's stone was black. Beside him, Zara and Elliot revealed the same.
"Team Alpha: Dren, Tor, Kael. Team Beta: Jace, Zara, Elliot," Thorne announced.
Captain Thorne's gaze swept over the team. "Before we proceed, someone must take point. Who among you would lead team beta?"
Before Jace could even shift or open his mouth, Elliot and Zara spoke at once, their voices firm and certain: "Jace."
"It's decided then." Captain Thorne announced.
"There must be a mistake," Dren said at once. "Jace isn't fit to lead. He barely knows how to take orders, let alone give them."
"The draws stand," Thorne replied without flinching. "Unless you'd like to question random selection?"
Dren's mouth snapped shut, though his eyes burned.
Zara shifted in her seat, her arm still stiff in its sling. "I can't go. Not like this. The bone needs weeks to heal."
"Then we're uneven," Thorne muttered, rubbing his jaw.
From the edge of the room, Lila's calm voice emerged. "Nia should go. She held her ground during the palace attack. She won't be dead weight."
Jace's stomach tightened at the suggestion, relief mixing with unease. Having her close was a comfort, but he didn't know if she was cut out for this type of mission.
"Done," Thorne said. "Team Alpha: Dren, Tor, Kael. Team Beta: Jace, Elliot, Nia."
He tapped the stack of parchment briefs. "Routes and contingencies are here. Departure at dawn."
Chairs scraped, cloaks shifted, as they prepared to leave the room. Jace bent to collect his briefing papers, but his eyes flicked up in time to catch Dren smiling. Not the polished, courtly smile. This one had teeth in it.
******
Dawn broke pale over the palace courtyard, sky painted in tired strokes of gray and gold. Horses stamped and snorted as stablehands tightened saddles. Armor buckles clinked in the cool air.
The champions gathered in clusters, murmuring low. Jace stood a little apart, his eyes fixed on the horizon. He wasn't really seeing it, his thoughts drifted too far past the riverlands to focus.
"Well, well." Elliot's voice broke in as he strolled over, adjusting his gloves. "Look who's brooding like a real commander. Didn't think I'd see this day."
Jace blinked, dragging himself back, and shot him a sideways glance. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."
"Oh, it's not confidence," Elliot said with a grin. "It's surprise. The good kind. You've got that distant stare generals get when they're plotting something sneaky. So, what's on your mind?"
"That Dren smiled too much last night," Jace said flatly. "He's planning something."
Elliot snorted. "He's always planning something. Usually involves himself looking good while the rest of us look incompetent. Don't waste your nerves on it."
Nia joined them, adjusting the strap across her shoulder. "Speaking of nerves, the captain's routes are too open. If someone's waiting for us, they'll be watching the main roads."
"Agreed," Jace said without hesitation. "We'll cut through the eastern ridge trails. Slower, but harder to track."
A warm, honey-smooth voice interrupted from behind. "Nia, when we return, perhaps dinner? We could compare field notes, exchange insights…"
Nia didn't even look at him. "No."
"You haven't even heard—"
"Still no."
"Surely you understand the value of—"
Nia turned to face him fully, her expression carrying the kind of polite patience usually reserved for particularly slow children. "I'd rather rest after the mission."
Elliot choked on his laugh, and Jace had to bite back a grin. Dren's perfect mask faltered, cheeks flushing before he pulled his dignity back around him like a cloak.
"Your loss," he said airily, though his eyes told a different story.
He drifted back toward his team, the same calculating smile tugging at his lips.
"I don't like this," Jace muttered.
Elliot arched a brow. "You mean the scheming noble, or the part where you're suddenly in charge of lives?"
"Both."
"Relax. Good leaders just make sure the people under them don't die while still doing the job. You'll be fine."
"Encouraging," Jace said dryly, though the words settled some of the tension in his chest.
Nia gave him a small, steady smile. "You might be surprised what your team can handle."
As they tightened saddles and checked weapons, Jace's unease lingered. Between Dren's smirk and the uncertainty of his own role, the weight of the mission pressed heavier than the gear on his shoulders.
One way or another, Riverfall would test him.