Flashback - The Sylven Forest
The Sylven Forest breathed like a living giant, its canopy shifting in slow murmurs as if whispering secrets too ancient for human tongues. Young Ghost sat on the low stone bench in the courtyard of the tribal hut, his posture straight despite the bandages around his torso. Pain simmered under his skin, but his expression remained unreadable, eyes sharp, absorbing everything.
Children ran barefoot across the damp earth, their laughter echoing between the towering wooden palisades. Some carried carved wooden toys. Some chased each other with woven leaf crowns. Their innocence felt unreal in such a brutal wilderness.
A few adults tended to a garden of herbs and vegetables, their movements practiced, calm. Others patrolled near the high walls, bows in hand, steps light.
Ghost counted silently.
Two archers on each wall segment.
Three at the gates.
Dozens in the courtyard.
A small tribe… but far more organized than they appeared.
