The forest stretched endlessly ahead — a sea of silver mist and dark trunks rising like pillars into the pale dawn.Kael moved quietly along the trail, his cloak damp with dew, his breath steady despite the chill that clung to the air. Beside him, Elara adjusted the strap of her satchel, glancing toward the distant mountains where faint thunder rolled.
"How much farther to the ruins?" she asked softly.
"Half a day, maybe less," Kael replied, scanning the trees. "Master and headmaster said the relic site's near the old border fort. If the Syndicate wanted it hidden, it's somewhere deep."
Elara's eyes flickered with unease. "You think the Ravens will follow us?"
Kael's grip tightened on his blade's hilt. "They already are."
He didn't have proof — only instinct. But that instinct had saved his life before.Something in the silence between the trees felt off — too still, as though the forest itself was holding its breath.
They continued down the narrow trail until the path opened into a clearing overlooking a broken bridge and the remnants of a forgotten road. Birds scattered as they stepped out, and Kael raised his hand, signaling for Elara to stop.
"There," he murmured.
At first, Elara saw nothing — then she caught it: a glint of metal far beyond the treeline, gone as quickly as it appeared.
"They're here," Kael said.
Elara reached for her staff, the gem at its tip flickering faintly. "Then we should move faster."
"Too risky," Kael replied. "If they've set a perimeter, running blind will only draw them in. We need to lose the trail."
He knelt, touching the damp ground. The faint mark of bootprints — four pairs — led across the clearing, too deep to be travelers, too even to be scouts. Raven Division tracking formation. His pulse quickened.
"Kael?" Elara asked quietly.
He looked up. "We're not facing ordinary soldiers."
By midday, clouds had thickened, and rain began to fall — slow at first, then in a steady downpour. The two found temporary shelter beneath an outcropping of rock. Kael set down his pack, pulling a small rune crystal from inside. Its light flared, projecting a soft blue glow.
Elara sat beside him, her hood pulled low. "You've been quiet since we left the academy."
Kael didn't answer at first. The storm outside reminded him of the visions that had begun haunting his dreams — lightning splitting a crimson sky, the faint echo of a woman's voice calling his name.He stared into the rune's glow. "Do you ever wonder why they chose us for this mission?"
Elara blinked. "Because we're the only ones who passed Ardyn's tests."
He shook his head. "No. Because we were meant to be here. It feels like we're walking into something already written."
Elara smiled faintly. "You think fate's got a hand in this?"
Kael's gaze was distant. "Maybe. Or maybe it's just another trap."
Before she could reply, the rune crystal flickered — then dimmed suddenly, its glow extinguished.Kael froze. "That wasn't the rain."
A low hum filled the air. The faint scent of ozone followed.
"Stay close," he whispered.
A moment later, something cut through the mist — a blur of motion that split the rain like a blade. Kael barely had time to react before steel met steel, sparks hissing through the downpour.
A masked soldier stood before him, twin daggers drawn, the Raven insignia etched in silver on his chestplate. Another emerged behind Elara — then two more from the treeline.
"Ravens," Kael hissed, parrying a strike.
The lead attacker moved fast, his movements almost too precise, too silent. Kael countered, twisting his blade and driving a knee into the man's chest before kicking him back into the mud. But more shadows appeared — four, five, six. They were surrounded.
Elara raised her staff, chanting under her breath. The gem flared — a burst of azure energy exploded outward, knocking two Ravens off their feet. The forest filled with flashes of light and thunder as her spells collided with their weapons.
Kael ducked under a thrown dagger, his sword slicing through another's armor. He fought with a focus born from instinct, every movement fluid, trained — yet as he struck the last of them down, the hairs on the back of his neck rose.
This was too easy.
"Elara, we have to move!" he shouted, grabbing her hand.
They ran through the storm, splashing through the mud and under twisted branches until the clearing vanished behind them. But even as they fled, Kael could feel it — a presence following them, cold and deliberate.
A hunter.
Far behind them, in the silent aftermath of the battle, the fallen Ravens dissolved into mist — illusions, their purpose fulfilled.
And from the shadows of a nearby ridge, a tall figure stepped forward.Armor black as night. A greatsword slung across his back, runes glowing faintly beneath the rain.
The Blade of Silence.
He watched the direction they fled, expression unreadable beneath the hood of his helm. For a long moment, he said nothing — then extended one gloved hand toward the scorched ground where Kael's blade had struck.
A spark of blue lightning leapt from the soil into his palm. He studied it — the residue of storm energy — before closing his fist around it.
"So," he murmured, voice low and resonant. "The storm still breathes in you."
He turned to the Raven lieutenant who knelt behind him, trembling. "Follow them?"
The swordsman's gaze flicked briefly toward the man. "No. I will find them myself."
"But, my lord, the girl—"
"I said myself."The tone was calm, but it carried enough weight to silence the lieutenant instantly.
The swordsman looked toward the forest again. "Tell the Division to stand down. No more distractions. The next time I draw this blade… will be when I face the heir of Stormblood."
He rested a hand on the sword's hilt — and the rain seemed to still for a heartbeat.
That Night — The Old Watchtower
Kael and Elara reached the ruins by dusk — a crumbling watchtower overlooking a deep valley, half-swallowed by moss and time. The air inside smelled of stone and ash. They built a small fire, the flickering light painting their faces in gold and shadow.
Elara leaned against the wall, exhausted. "We can't keep running like this."
Kael nodded silently, checking his blade. The edge was chipped, the metal scorched from his last strike. "We'll rest here for tonight."
As Elara began unpacking herbs for her spell focus, she noticed Kael staring at the lightning outside, his expression distant.
"What is it?" she asked.
He hesitated. "When I fought them… I felt something. Familiar. Like their magic was drawn to me."
She frowned. "That's not possible. Unless—"
"Unless it wasn't them," Kael said, finishing her thought. "They weren't real."
The realization hit them both at once.
Illusions. Lures. The real enemy was still out there.
Thunder rumbled closer, echoing through the tower. Kael sheathed his sword, turning toward the doorway. Beyond the rain, the night felt alive — heavy with unseen movement.
"Elara," he said quietly, "if something happens to me—"
"Don't," she interrupted sharply. "You're not dying before I get answers."
Despite the tension, a faint smile crossed his lips. "Fair."
They sat in silence for a while, the fire crackling softly. Then, faintly, Kael thought he heard a whisper — a distant hum, like metal scraping against stone.
It stopped as quickly as it came.
He stood, scanning the shadows. Nothing. Only rain.
But far beyond, across the valley, a single figure stood upon the opposite ridge — watching.The rain parted briefly, and lightning revealed the faint gleam of a runed sword.
The Blade of Silence had found their trail.