The fire crackled in the center of the camp, its golden flames casting flickering shadows on weathered faces. Smoke drifted upward, curling lazily into the night sky where faint stars peeked through scattered clouds. The forest beyond the firelight remained unnervingly silent—too silent—broken only by distant, occasional wolf howls.Tents formed a loose circle around the fire. Guards paced the perimeter, alert, while the rest of the raid gathered in small groups—sharpening blades, mending armor, or simply staring into the flickering flames.Veer sat beside Ashish and a handful of volunteers. Nearby, Jiya spoke quietly with the tempest,s captains, her eyes flickering with concern. At the edge of the camp, Aditya stood like a vigilant sentinel, the faint swirling wind around him moving like a living breath.For the first time since they marched, the warriors found room to breathe—space to remember the lives they fought for."Funny," muttered one older volunteer, taking a slow sip from a dented flask. "I spent my life running from monsters. Never thought I'd be the one running straight at them."That drew a few dry chuckles, though laughter died quickly under the weight of lingering fear.Ashish sat forward by the fire, elbows on his knees, fists clenched tight. His jaw was clenched as if holding back words pressed by memory.Veer leaned closer softly. "You've fought them before, haven't you?"Ashish's eyes flickered to him, momentarily quiet. Then, voice hoarse from too much silence, he spoke."They took my sister."The camp grew hushed, conversations fading as ears turned toward him. Ashish's voice was steady, each word edged with raw anger.
"Months ago. Our village was quiet — we thought we were safe. Then the orcs came at night. Not just to kill—they wanted people. Families."
Veer's stomach tightened.Ashish's gaze grew distant, lost in nightmare.
"I tried to fight back. Wasn't strong enough. I watched them drag her away—screaming. I still hear it when I close my eyes." His fists glowed faintly with the spark of his awakened power. "That night, something cracked inside me. I advanced... but too late."Silence held the fire's crackle.A scarred, middle-aged woman pressed her hand on his shoulder. "You're not alone," she whispered. "They took my husband. My sons. That's why I'm here."
Another volunteer, voice trembling, added, "They took my little brother."
One by one, fractured stories spilled out—some choked back tears, others spoke rage sharp enough to cut steel.The fire became a shrine for grief, confession, and fierce resolve.Through it all, the quiet boy sat apart, his blade resting across his knees. Hands moved mechanically, polishing steel, ears seemingly deaf to the stories around him.Finally, a guild member turned to him. "And you? Don't you have a story to share?"
The boy looked up, black eyes gleaming under firelight. His voice was flat, cold."No."The dismissal cut sharp. The circle fell into uneasy silence.Veer frowned but did not press. The boy was an enigma—a locked vault of pain or secrets that would open only when ready.
Later, when camp quieted and most had withdrawn to their tents, Veer remained by the fire, Ashish across from him."She's alive," Ashish said suddenly, voice firm, defiant.Veer blinked. "What makes you sure?"
Ashish's eyes blazed. "I'd feel it if she wasn't. I don't care how many orcs stand in our way. I'll tear aside this entire cursed forest if it means bringing her home."Veer had no answer but believed the fierce promise.Above, stars flickered faintly, bearing witness.And somewhere deep in the forest, a guttural horn sounded—distant, ominous, unmistakable.The orcs were gathering.The firelight no longer felt warm.