The air within Astwood Vale was heavier than it had any right to be. Though the sun was still high, the canopy swallowed most of its light, leaving only scattered beams that shifted with the swaying branches. The youths of Stagheart moved forward in uneven groups, their nerves hidden poorly behind forced bravado.
Dagan walked at the front as though he owned the Vale itself. His shoulders were squared, his spear gleamed from constant polish, and behind him his totem shadow shimmered faintly, the antlers of a stag glowing like pale fire. Each step he took carried weight, as if the earth itself had chosen to yield to him. His followers flanked him in tight formation, proud and loud, their voices echoing as they laughed and jeered.
Kael stayed toward the middle of the group, watching everything. His expression remained unreadable, though his eyes missed little. He walked beside Mira, the slight girl with the hare-like awakening, or so it had been called. Her stag shadow had been faint, barely visible, its antlers no more than wisps of mist. She kept her knife clutched in white knuckles, breathing too fast. Her eyes darted toward Dagan's group before quickly looking away, then back again to Kael.
Kael offered her a simple nod, his face calm. Inside, his thoughts ran like threads of silk. Twice she had stumbled already, once nearly bumping into him, once knocking her foot against a root just where his next step would have been. Too careful for true clumsiness. Too measured for fear.
They pressed deeper into the Vale. The first beast to appear was a tusked boar, its hide thick and scarred from older fights. It snorted, steam rising from its nostrils, and pawed at the earth. Dagan shouted, voice echoing. "On me!" His group surged forward, shadows flaring to life. One boy's stag shadow bent low, hooves stamping as his speed burst forward. Another's antlers thickened, lending weight to his spear thrust. Together they crashed into the beast, their attacks loud and frantic.
Kael's group tensed, ready to follow, but he lifted his hand slightly. "Hold." His voice carried quiet authority. He stepped to the side, snapping a branch beneath his boot. The sound drew the boar's head toward him just long enough for Dagan's group to strike from behind. Spears pierced hide, the beast roared once, then collapsed in the dirt.
The others cheered, raising their weapons. Dagan stood tall, breathing hard, but already twisting the hunt to his advantage. "Did you see how it fell before me?" he boasted. His followers nodded eagerly, ignoring how Kael had set the opening.
Kael said nothing, only studied. The Vale grew darker as they moved further. The air was thick with damp moss, and every shadow seemed alive.
It happened at the ridge. Below lay a narrow gully overrun with bramble and stone. The air there was dense, perfect for beasts to hide. Kael slowed his pace. Mira edged closer, her body tense, her eyes shifting too quickly.
The attack came fast. A lean stag-wolf hybrid, a creature twisted by the Vale's energy, lunged from the brush. Its fangs glistened with saliva, and its eyes were crazed with hunger. The stag shadows of the youths flared in response, hooves pounding in their blood, antlers shimmering faintly around them.
Mira's knife slipped from her hand, falling toward Kael's side, angled in a way no stumble could explain. Her movements were too smooth. She had meant to cut him, not the beast.
Kael's body moved with calm precision. He shifted a single step, letting the wolf's charge cross his path. The knife pierced the beast's flank instead of his ribs. The creature howled in fury, and Kael let the chaos mask the truth.
The other youths surged forward. One boy's stag-shadow brightened, his antlers gleaming as his strike landed heavier than expected, cracking bone. Another's shadow pulsed faster, his speed increasing as he darted across the beast's side. Together they overwhelmed it, their weapons sinking into flesh until the wolf collapsed in a trembling heap.
To the group, it looked as though Mira had landed the first blow. They cheered her name, clapping her back, praising her bravery. She stood frozen, her face pale, the weight of what she had done pressing hard.
Kael let her have the glory. He did not expose her. Instead, he observed the threads that had been revealed. Mira had been planted here, sent with intent. The Vale had dangers enough, yet someone had thought it wise to arm her with a hidden knife aimed at him. That someone had known she would not be missed if the hunt claimed her. The chief, perhaps, ensuring his rivals remained weak. Or another, quieter hand, weaving schemes Kael had not yet seen.
He glanced toward the edge of the group where Haron lingered, watching. The healer's eyes were sharp, not fooled by appearances. Yet Haron said nothing, his face unreadable. Kael lowered his gaze, hiding the spark of thought that lit within him.
Mira's act had failed, and now she stood in debt to him. To the others, she was a hero. To Kael, she was a pawn. Better to leave her where she was, useful, than to expose her now.
As they pressed deeper into Astwood Vale, Kael let the forest close around them. Every shadow hid a beast. Every face hid an intent. The youths thought the danger came from claws and fangs.
Kael knew better. The true hunt was always played by people.