We didn't get new orders right away.
The morning after the map session, the bell rang for assembly as usual. The courtyard was cold, the sky a dull sheet of winter light. Instructors paced the edges, speaking in low voices.
Halvren was at the center.
He stood there with his hands behind his back, letting the silence stretch until even the restless squads in the rear stopped whispering.
"Patrol rotations have been adjusted," he announced. "Some sectors are being reassigned. You'll find the details posted on the main board."
No reason given. No questions invited.
When the squads broke to crowd around the assignments board, I hung back and waited. Crowds never brought clarity—just noise. Sure enough, Riken came back first, smirking.
"We've been shifted," he said.
"To where?" I asked.
"Still Eastern Commons, but we're doubling our range." He pointed east on the imaginary map between us. "Closer to the riverbed. Beyond the aqueduct."
I frowned. "That's outside the standard loop."
"Guess they trust us," Brayden said with a grin.
"Or they're trying to get us eaten," Vell muttered.
I didn't answer, but the thought stuck with me.
The day's patrol took us along less-used farm tracks, where fences sagged and weeds overtook the road. The winter frost hadn't lifted, and the cold made every sound sharper. Boots crunching over dirt. Leather creaking with movement. Even Danya's steady breathing from the rear was noticeable.
It wasn't long before we found signs again.
A toppled fence. Hoofprints from livestock scattering in different directions. And in the dirt—two familiar patterns: the heavy, deep three-clawed tracks, and the lighter, bent-toed prints.
Same direction as before.
"They're moving," Brayden said. "Heading east."
"Toward the dry river," Riken added.
We kept moving, tracing the signs until the land sloped downward toward a stretch of dead reeds where the river had once flowed. The aqueduct arched overhead, its stones mottled with moss and frost.
Beneath it, something had happened.
The earth was churned in a wide circle, as if two large bodies had collided and spun. Broken reeds lay flattened in spirals. More blood—darker now, drying in the cold air.
But still no bodies.
Vell crouched low, running a gloved finger along a deep gouge in the frozen mud. "This isn't claws," she said. "Something sharp, but not natural. Like a blade."
"Maybe it's not just the two creatures," Riken suggested. "Maybe someone else is involved."
The idea didn't sit right with me. If there was a person out here, they'd have to move like a ghost not to leave their own trail. And besides—the gouge curved. Not straight, like a sword. Something with a hook.
We marked the site, took quick sketches for the report, and kept going.
By the time we returned, the sun was low and the training hall lamps were being lit. The air inside was warm but tense. Instructors were gathered in small knots, voices hushed.
I felt eyes on me before I saw him.
Halvren stood at the far end of the hall, pretending to look over a set of scrolls. His head was bowed, but I knew the angle of someone who was watching without seeming to watch.
He didn't approach. Neither did I.
Instead, I turned in our report to the duty clerk—same one as last time. His eyes flicked over the mention of "two sets of tracks" and "signs of a fight." His jaw tightened, but he said nothing. Just stamped it and slid it into the drawer.
This time, though, I caught him glance toward the instructors' table before lowering his head again.
That night, Squad Four gathered at our usual corner table in the mess. The stew was thin, but hot, and the fire made the shadows dance on the walls.
"They've shifted our route for a reason," Vell said, keeping her voice low. "No way it's random."
"Maybe they think we're capable," Brayden said, though even he didn't sound convinced.
"They're watching us," Danya said simply.
Riken raised a brow. "You're sure?"
She didn't answer right away, just kept her gaze on the fire. "Felt it today. More than once."
I thought about Halvren, the way he lingered in the hall, the way the patrol zones had been altered without explanation.
"They want to see how we handle this," I said finally.
Brayden grinned. "Then let's handle it well."
"Handling it well would mean not dying," Vell muttered.
We ate the rest of the meal in thoughtful silence.
Later, when the others had turned in, I stayed awake, lying on my bunk and staring at the dark ceiling. Somewhere beyond the walls of the barracks, two creatures were circling each other, and somehow we'd been placed in the center of their ground.
The bigger one—the one with the heavy tracks—killed without pattern, leaving only scraps and blood. A Monster. I didn't have proof, but my gut told me.
The smaller one… it didn't kill aimlessly. It didn't waste. Whatever it was, it was deliberate. Careful.
I remembered the old stories from before I joined the academy. Tales of Beasts—rare, intelligent creatures that chose companions instead of prey. Most people called them myths now. But standing out there in the frost, seeing the strange bent-toed tracks, I wasn't sure they were wrong.
If it was a Beast, then it had a reason to be here.
If it was a Beast… maybe it was already watching us, too.
In the morning, we'd follow the tracks again. Halvren wanted to see what we'd do. Fine.
We'd show him.