The sun's rays broke through the thick green branches of the forest, dappling the ground in shifting patches of warm light. Clouds flew swiftly across the sky, carried by the strong winds that whispered through the leaves, rippling the canopy like an endless sea of green. Through the small openings, flashes of blue and white peeked out, teasing the travelers beneath.
Diomede walked at the head of the group, steady and confident. Behind him, Lily and Kira moved quietly, their footsteps soft against the mossy earth. Francisco followed, bent over his journal, scribbling notes and thoughts as the forest's symphony hummed around them. Clayton walked last, his sharp eyes scanning every shadow and rustle, alert for any lurking danger.
Birds flitted through the branches above, their songs rising and falling in gentle melodies. Squirrels chased one another playfully, their tiny feet tapping a quick rhythm on the forest floor. Rabbits burst through the brush, noses twitching nervously before darting away at the sight of the group.
Francisco closed his journal carefully and tilted his head back, savoring the sounds. "Young Clayton, what exactly is our destination called?"
Clayton didn't stop scanning but replied, "It's a town called Kinga. It's known for the sweet bread that they send to the capitol."
Francisco's voice lifted in delight, almost tasting the promise of warm, fresh bread. "How are the people there?"
"They are welcoming, for the most part. Normal folks going about their lives," Clayton answered, his tone even but steady.
Francisco's gaze flickered between Clayton and Kira. "Will they voice any disdain for our appearance?"
Clayton's eyes found both their gazes. "I don't recall any negative comments about those outside Umar's borders." He shrugged. "But much could have changed since I was last there."
From the front, Diomede's voice rang out sharp and curious. "How long has it been since you've been back?"
The group snapped their heads toward him, attentive.
"About twelve years," Clayton replied quietly.
Diomede stopped and turned, his gaze cutting through the group until it fixed on Clayton. "So you don't even know what could be waiting for us when we get there, do you?"
Kira, Lily, and Francisco exchanged quick looks, the tension between the two men hanging in the air.
"No, I don't," Clayton said firmly. "But I haven't been given word of any change."
Diomede inhaled slowly, voice low. "That doesn't mean Umar's forces haven't increased their presence."
"I haven't been notified," Clayton said, "and the part of the country it's in wouldn't warrant it."
"Why's that?" Lily asked, curious.
"It's too far from the coast and sits in the middle of open flat plains, in the shadow of the only mountain for hundreds of miles."
Diomede's interest pique. "This mountain — does its peak resemble a crescent moon?"
"Yes, it does." Replied Clayton.
Diomede grinned faintly. "I know where we're going now. And he's right — there shouldn't be anything to worry about."
He started walking again, and the group fell into step behind him. Kira fell back beside Clayton, their pace matching.
"You said it's been twelve years since you were home?"
Clayton nodded without looking at her. She detected no excitement or anxiety in him.
"Do you not miss your family?" she asked softly.
Clayton's gaze met hers. "Of course I do. I just never had a reason to return."
Kira's brow rose. "Not even to see your mother and father?"
Clayton shook his head. "My father is the only blood family I have there — well, the only family I'm aware of, really."
"What happened to your mother?" Kira asked, voice gentle yet dipped in caution.
"I don't know. My father is all I've ever known. He never spoke about her while I was growing up."
Francisco moved to Clayton's other side, joining the conversation warmly. "So your father never remarried?"
"No," Clayton replied quietly. "He just built and ran — well, still runs — the roadside inn just outside of town."
Kira's voice brightened. "I'm sure he'll be glad to see you again."
Tender reminiscences of her father gently stirred within her mind, mingling wistful yearning with the poignant ache of his absence.
Clayton smiled faintly. "It's been eight years since I last saw him. He was able to make my knighting ceremony at the grand temple."
Francisco placed a comforting hand on Clayton's shoulder. "You must have been very young when you started your Holy Knight training."
Clayton gave a small laugh of confusion. "No, not as young as the others. I was seventeen when I went to the capitol to start at the academy."
Francisco's face showed surprise mixed with admiration. "I decided to join when a few knights came through town, boasting about how being a Holy Knight was an honor."
Clayton's voice was steady, full of quiet conviction. "I felt the need to provide my services to the cause, to protect Umar's people."
Francisco's grin was warm and wide. "I look forward to seeing your home, my dear friend." He sang the words playfully, the tune brightening the air.
The group continued walking until the forest thinned, revealing the edge where tall grass stretched out like a green ocean.
Diomede raised his hand sharply, signaling them to stop.
"Wait for my call before you venture out," he commanded.
Eager yet cautious, the others waited.
Diomede stepped out alone into the vast field of tall grass that rippled like waves for miles. Soft hills rolled gently, their crests brushing the sky.
He moved carefully, senses alert, ears straining for the faintest sound.
The wind whispered through the grass, creating a gentle susurration, like the ocean's softest breath.
Despite the movement, Diomede felt no danger. No dark presence disturbed the peace.
He whistled sharply, a clear, crisp note that danced across the field.
Lily led the group forward, her great axe gleaming faintly as she moved with quiet grace.
Kira followed, Francisco beside her, his journal tucked away.
Clayton kept watch over the forest's edge, eyes searching for signs of pursuit.
The sun warmed his skin as he stepped from shadow into open light.
The group pressed on through the tall grass and rolling hills.
Hours passed beneath the blazing sun. Sweat mingled with the fresh scent of earth and wildflowers. Each step pressed the soft ground, dust rising in tiny clouds.
Clouds drifted overhead, casting fleeting shadows that cooled their skin briefly, like delicate caresses.
The grass rolled endlessly around them, hills rising and falling like waves frozen mid-crest.
As the sun dipped low, painting the horizon in fiery oranges and gentle pinks, Francisco sighed, nostalgic.
"Seems we shall sleep under the stars tonight."
His voice carried the soft promise of stories yet to be told.
Suddenly, a shadow passed overhead.
"Um, young Clayton," Francisco's voice trembled slightly. "Do you see that?"
Clayton squinted skyward, following the pointed arm.
"Looks like a large bird. Don't tell me you're afraid of birds," he teased with a light smile.
Diomede's senses snapped to alert.
"Everyone into the grass! Take cover and don't move!"
Hearts pounding, the group dove into the tall grass, pressing close to the earth.
The massive bird dove, black feathers shimmering like polished obsidian.
Its wings spanned wider than an Artoseatine ship.
Talons curved sharp and deadly.
Its eagle-like head bore long forked feathers curving back like a dark crown.
They lay still, breaths caught.
Kira could hear every heartbeat pounding in her ears — everyone's but Diomede's calm, steady presence that soothed her.
The creature circled in a wide figure eight, wings beating powerful gusts that rippled the grass like waves.
After twenty tense minutes, it soared off.
The group stayed low, moving cautiously parallel to the path.
"What was that?" Lily whispered.
"A Roc," Diomede replied.
Clayton was overwhelmed. He had heard stories of the many different creatures that roamed the lands, tales from bards and travelers that often seemed exaggerated or fanciful.
But now, standing face to face with such a colossal beast, the reality humbled him deeply. The sheer scale of the creature—the vast wingspan, the razor-sharp talons, the silent menace of its flight—brought a profound respect and a sudden realization of how small and fragile they truly were.
The sounds of writing and scribbling on paper danced through the grass and reached Clayton's ears. Francisco was yet again writing in his journal.
"We need to keep moving." Diomede stated as he returned to the path.
"Could there be more flying about?" Asked Kira.
"No, they do not share hunting grounds in the warm seasons of the year." Replied Diomede while he pushed past the grass.
The five moved down the path, all except Diomede kept one eye on the sky.
Night fell fully, moonlight bathing the field in silver.
Lily's senses flickered, a subtle tug in her mind.
Her eyes caught a faint blue orb weaving through the grass.
Kira noticed Lily staring but saw nothing herself.
"What do you see, Lily?"
Lily shook her head, turning forward. "Nothing. Just scanning for animals — tired of dried fish."
Kira sensed a deeper sorrow beneath those words.
Diomede stopped and pointed to a lone tree atop a hill, its bark dark and thick, branches heavy with leaves.
"We will rest there."
Unease crept over Kira as they neared.
Suddenly, Lily halted.
"We mustn't get closer."
Diomede's gaze locked on her.
"Why?"
Clayton and Francisco looked to Lily expectantly.
"Because there's an evil presence coming from it."
Diomede scanned carefully but saw nothing unusual.
He looked to Kira.
"What about you? Do you feel anything?"
Kira stepped close. "Only an unsettling energy."
She nodded to Lily.
"If she says no closer, then we listen."
Lily offered a thankful tilt of her head.
"Fine," he said with a playful edge, "but when we get soaked in the rain, that's on you."
Francisco and Clayton looked to a clear sky, seeing no sign of rain.
With a snap of memory, Francisco produced a royal tent from his bag, "I happened to have a royal tent from Artose I won playing a game of bones."
The tent was dark blue and was embroidered with the Duke of northern Artose's insignia.
Clayton took the poles from Francisco as he shoved them into the knight's arms.
Clayton let out an annoyed sigh.
"You know how to put this up, right?" Asked Francisco with a playful tone.
Clayton's dry reply: "Yeah, I do."
Francisco grinned. "It's too large for one, so I conveniently forgot."
An hour later, the massive tent stood proud in the grass, big enough for two wagons.
The group settled inside, the fabric smelling faintly of canvas and distant sea salt.
Kira embraced the rough, earth-hardened ground beneath her with a quiet nostalgia— for a fleeting moment, it felt just like home.
Diomede stood watch at the entrance, greatsword resting on his shoulders.
"I'll take first watch." He muttered, but it fell on tired ears.
The others fell quickly into sleep beneath the shelter.
Diomede's gaze drifted back to the tree on the hill.
At first, he saw nothing.
Then his eyes darkened to deep orange, revealing corpses hanging in cages from the branches.
A heavy weight of shame and sorrow settled over him.
"Well, shit," he muttered softly, "guess it was a good idea not to sleep under that tree."
The night stretched on, stars wheeling overhead, the forest whispering its secrets.