The first hint of trouble was the smell of smoke.
It drifted through the trees on a rising wind, sharp and acrid, stinging Kaelen's nose. Lira froze mid-step, nostrils flaring like a wolf catching scent of prey.
"That's not a campfire," she said.
Kaelen followed her gaze back toward Briar's Hollow. An orange glow pulsed against the night sky, faint at first… then growing, flickering like the heartbeat of some vast, unseen beast.
"Valmyr," Lira muttered. "They're burning the town."
The words hit Kaelen like a blow. He'd wanted nothing to do with Briar's Hollow beyond its anonymity, but… there were people there. Faces he knew. The old innkeeper who gave him work without questions. The boy who traded him apples for carved toys.
"They're looking for you," Lira said, her voice low. "Or that scroll."
Before Kaelen could reply, shouts echoed through the forest — the harsh bark of Valmyr orders, the crash of boots trampling undergrowth. The glow grew brighter.
"They'll kill everyone just to smoke us out."
Lira's bow was already in her hands. "Then we don't let them."
Kaelen hesitated. Running would keep him alive. But the thought of leaving the townsfolk to die clawed at him like a thorn in the chest.
"Fine," he said, drawing his daggers. "But we get in, we get them out, and we disappear."
They moved quickly, slipping between trees until the forest thinned and the burning town came into view. Flames chewed through thatched roofs, sending sparks spiraling into the night. Shadows of soldiers danced in the firelight, their blades glinting red.
Kaelen's heart thudded. The soldiers were dragging townsfolk into the square, forcing them to their knees.
"Search every house!" the Valmyr captain barked. "If the scroll's here, we'll find it."
One soldier kicked open the tavern door. The innkeeper was hauled out, coughing, a bruise darkening his cheek.
Kaelen's jaw tightened. He stepped forward, but Lira caught his arm. "Think first."
He nodded reluctantly. "You take the left flank. I'll handle the captain."
The plan went wrong immediately.
As Kaelen slipped into the edge of the square, one soldier spotted him and shouted. Crossbows swung toward him, bolts hissing through the air. Kaelen dropped into the shadows, reappearing behind the nearest soldier and slashing his hamstring. The man screamed, collapsing.
Lira's arrows answered from the rooftops, each one finding its mark. The townsfolk scattered in the chaos, some bolting into alleys, others dragging injured neighbors toward the forest.
The captain drew his sword — a long, cruel blade etched with flame runes — and charged. Steel met shadow as Kaelen blocked the strike, the force of it rattling his bones.
"You should have stayed dead, prince," the captain snarled.
Kaelen didn't answer. He twisted, shadows writhing up his arms, and slammed his dagger into the man's side. The captain staggered, but instead of falling, he grinned through bloodied teeth.
"You can't run forever. The Crown calls for its heir."
Before Kaelen could react, a fire rune flared — and the captain thrust his sword into the ground. Flame roared outward in a blazing arc.
The blast tore through the square, igniting what little remained untouched. Kaelen was thrown back, hitting the cobblestones hard. His vision blurred, the world reduced to fire, screams, and the acrid sting of ash in his throat.
Lira's voice cut through the haze. "Kaelen! Move!"
He staggered to his feet, lungs burning, and followed her into the cover of the trees. Behind them, Briar's Hollow burned like a beacon against the night — and with it, every trace of the life Kaelen had built in hiding.