The Third Day Begins
The third day in Orb Valley began slowly, without hurry.
Ravian crouched beside the open backpacks, organizing everything for the third time since sunrise. Supplies separated. Weapons cleaned. Mechanisms checked with almost obsessive care.
The group was well-armed.
Better than he had expected for such a short time.
That alone was dangerous.
— We're prepared… — he muttered to himself. — Maybe too prepared.
Then he sensed something different.
Not a sound. Not a clear movement.
A presence.
Ravian lifted his gaze.
Between the trees, a few meters from the camp, stood a face he recognized immediately.
Kyle.
The boy who, on the first day, had preferred to keep himself apart from everyone.
Ravian stood slowly, neither reaching for his weapon nor lowering his guard.
— You were the one who wanted to stay alone, — he said. — And now… you're back?
Kyle stepped forward just enough to be heard.
— I came back to see how you're doing, — he replied, voice neutral. — And to see if you're still alive.
Ravian crossed his arms.
— You survived on your own?
Kyle shrugged.
— I have my own methods.
Silence stretched for a few seconds, heavy as the air before a storm.
Then Kyle spoke again, quieter this time:
— Other groups are forming societies. They're expanding territory. — He paused briefly. — It's not just about survival. It's about power.
Ravian frowned.
— Go on.
— Bigger groups are willing to step over smaller ones. — Kyle's gaze stayed firm. — If necessary, they'll take valuable members.
— Like who? — Ravian asked.
Kyle didn't hesitate.
— Guy.
— The boy with the stone.
The weight of the information landed like a solid blow.
— He can build forts, — Kyle continued. — A strong society will try to take him, whether he wants it or not.
Ravian studied Kyle for a few seconds, reading every microexpression, every calculated pause.
— So, you came to warn us… — he said. — Or to spy?
Kyle smirked slightly.
— Even if I were a spy… I wouldn't know.
Ravian let out a short breath.
— Either way, this information is valuable.
He turned, thoughtful.
— What do you suggest?
Kyle answered without hesitation:
— Expansion.
Ravian spun sharply.
— Expansion? — he repeated. — Doesn't that expose us even more?
— On the contrary, — Kyle said. — How many are you? Ten?
— Exactly ten.
— Then you're vulnerable. — Kyle tilted his head. — But if you grow, if you expand your territory, other groups will think twice before attacking.
Ravian fell silent.
He thought of the creatures.
He thought of the other youths scattered across the valley.
He thought of Guy.
— It's a risky strategy… — he said finally. — But you're right.
They were just a few meters from the camp.
Ravian drew a deep breath.
— Kyle, join us, — he said. — You'll be the eleventh member.
Kyle shook his head.
— No.
Ravian raised his eyebrows.
— You prefer to stay alone… even now?
— Don't judge me wrong, — Kyle replied. — I prefer to stay out of the action. To observe. To remain… obsolete, if you want to call it that. — These dynamics… aren't my style.
Ravian studied him for a moment and nodded.
— I respect your decision.
Kyle stepped back a few paces.
— Good luck, Ravian.
And he vanished into the forest, silent as he had arrived.
A little later, Ravian gathered the group in the center of the camp.
— Attention, everyone.
They all moved closer.
— This is the third day in Orb Valley, — he said. — We're not only in danger from the creatures. Other youths are forming societies. They're building military power.
Murmurs spread.
— We're well-armed, — Ravian continued. — But that's not enough. We need to grow.
He pointed directions in the air.
— Guy and I will scout north. — Baron and Galdor Helsor, you move west. — Staggered departures. One every hour. The camp is never left unprotected.
The group exchanged looks.
— Under other circumstances, I wouldn't agree, — Baron said. — But now… it's the smartest choice.
One by one, everyone nodded.
Ravian clenched his fist.
— Then it's decided. — Our expansion begins today.
In the distance, among the trees, Kyle Serin watched.
The sun had not yet reached the zenith.
And Orb Valley was already moving its pieces.
Before that…
That same night, at another point in the valley, six men and six youths kept a modest camp. The fire burned low. Fatigue outweighed vigilance.
Korvel sat, back against a log, observing the thin fog crawling across the ground. Bale adjusted an improvised blade.
The first howl came from afar.
The second, closer.
The third… was already surrounding them.
— Did you hear that? — someone whispered.
There was no time to respond.
Shadows moved between the trees, too fast, too low.
Wolves. Many of them.
The attack was brutal.
One was dragged out of the circle before even letting out a scream. Another fell, throat snapped with a dry crack. Sparks flew from the fire as a body was thrown onto it.
— RUN! — someone yelled.
Korvel tried to raise the fog, but the scent of fear, blood, and panic dominated everything. The wolves moved on instinct, not vision.
Bale screamed as one sank its teeth into a companion's leg, dragging him into the darkness. The sound of bones breaking echoed through the forest.
Korvel became like mist, moving through chaos, unable to touch anyone.
Unable to save anyone.
When silence returned, the ground was stained. Parts of bodies scattered. The camp… empty.
Of the six, only two remained.
And the certainty that surviving in Orb Valley came at a price not everyone was willing to pay.
Now.
Seated on logs arranged in a circle, they were gathered. In the center, standing, was Tocre.
He took a deep breath before speaking.
— Bale… Korvel, — he said firmly. — I deeply regret what happened to you. But now you need to decide.
He paused briefly.
— Will you walk this journey with us? There will be risks, constant threats… and few guarantees of survival.
Korvel lowered his gaze for a few seconds, then lifted it again.
— We owe our lives to Angelo. — He spoke with quiet conviction. — He did what few would. And honestly… we have nowhere else to go.
He breathed deeply.
— Even if we did, we'd stay. We have a debt.
As he spoke, Tocre observed every gesture, every hesitation. For a brief moment, a thought crossed his mind:
If it weren't for Angelo's stubbornness, would those brothers still be alive?
The thought was fleeting, but profound.
— Very well, — Tocre said. — Then I need to know… what is your specialty?
Bale spoke first, almost shyly.
— You may not believe it… but I control water.
He pointed to his brother.
— And Korvel… he controls the mist.
Silence.
— Mist? — they almost said in unison.
Before anyone could react further, Angelo stepped forward. His right shoulder wrapped in a makeshift cloth, still stained — the superficial mark left by the wolves the previous night.
— How does it work?
Korvel didn't answer with words.
The mist spread quickly, dense, swallowing the space around them. Visibility nearly vanished. The air grew heavy — and with it, a sense of fear settled over everyone… except Tocre.
— You can't see me… or touch me, — Korvel's voice echoed. — In this state, I am intangible.
Immediately, Tocre spoke loudly:
— Angelo! Make the air cold.
— What? Why? — Angelo asked.
— Don't ask. Just do it.
Angelo knelt, ignoring the slight burn on his shoulder. He placed his hands on the ground and concentrated.
The cold spread.
The mist began to condense, settling until it barely reached knee height.
When he stood, shock spread through the group.
— How…? — Bale and Korvel murmured.
Lana watched silently, clearly impressed.
Tocre smiled slightly.
— Science and magic, — he said. — The cold condenses the mist if it has a liquid base.
He turned toward the remaining vapor.
— And that consumes a lot of your energy… doesn't it?
— It does, — Korvel replied, already returning to form. — That night… I didn't hide because I…
He lowered his gaze.
— I just didn't want to survive alone. — The mist doesn't hide scent. For the wolves… it's not enough.
— …Not enough, — Tocre finished.
The weight of those words fell upon the group.
No one spoke.
There, they all understood the true cost of staying alive in Orb Valley.
And the silence… said it all.