Alone?

Mira walked the forest’s edge with silent steps, eyes scanning the spaces between the trees for any flicker of movement. She paced deliberately, always circling back to check the camp. The fire had dimmed to a low amber cradle, but its pulse was steady, casting just enough light to mark the sleeping forms.

Her gaze drifted upward to the treetops, their silhouettes swaying gently against the dark sky. The moon had shifted—it had edged away from the point it had been when Reith went to sleep. Time had passed. How much, she wasn’t sure. There were no clocks here. Just breath, fatigue, and the rhythm of torchlight and shadow.

Her eyelids drooped. She blinked hard, then rubbed her fists into her eyes.

I’m getting too tired.

She exhaled through her nose and turned back toward camp. As she drew close, the faint, uneven drone of snoring reached her ears.

“Annoying,” she muttered. Good thing I won’t be the one sleeping through it.

She stopped near the pine mats and looked down at the most obvious culprit.

“Corvin,” she said flatly.

No response.

“Corvin,” she repeated, louder this time.

Still snoring.

She raised a boot and kicked him—not hard, but sharp enough to jolt him awake. He jerked upright with a strangled grunt, flailing slightly before his eyes focused on her.

“Whuh—what—Mira?!”

“Your turn,” she said, already turning away. “And take Sai with you. Try not to snore on patrol.”

Corvin blinked blearily and groaned as he swung his legs over the side of his pine mat. He rubbed the spot where she had kicked him. “That’s assault, you know.”

“You’re lucky it was just one kick,” Mira called over her shoulder as she dropped onto her makeshift bed and immediately rolled to face the woods.

Sai stirred nearby. He hadn’t been fully asleep—more in that alert, meditative stillness he often slipped into. His eyes opened without expression.

“Come on, samurai,” Corvin muttered. “Let’s go walk in the woods like we’re in a ghost story.”

Sai rose smoothly, hand resting on the pommel of his sword—still sheathed. “We should go before we wake anyone else.”

Together, they stepped beyond the dying firelight, their boots crunching faintly over the gravel and pine needles. The darkness beyond was deep, thick like smoke. The forest at night seemed to consume sound. Even the fire’s crackle faded behind them.

They walked for a while in silence, moving along the camp’s perimeter. The night air had grown colder, and a thin mist had begun to settle between the trunks. The silence pressed in, broken only by the occasional whisper of branches in the wind.

Sai moved with calm efficiency, while Corvin tried—and failed—not to trip over a root.

“So,” Corvin said after a long stretch of silence, “you think we’re being watched?”

Sai didn’t answer immediately. His eyes scanned the treeline. “I would like to think we’re alone. But whether something’s watching… or just waiting—I don’t know.”

Corvin gave a low whistle. “Comforting. You always this cheerful?”

“I’m realistic.”

“Well, reality sucks,” Corvin muttered. “I don’t like how quiet it is out here. Even the birds have stopped making noise except that one owl. Creepy.”

Sai paused beside a boulder and crouched, fingers brushing the damp earth. Corvin glanced at Sai’s sword

“You know,” Corvin continued, “you haven’t drawn your sword. Not really. Not like the rest of us.” He shifted his grip on the axe, resting it against his shoulder.

Sai stood. “No need yet.”

“Is that it? Or are you just… not sure how it works?”

Sai’s jaw tightened. “It’s a sword.”

“Yeah, but is it?” Corvin looked down at the axe. “Mine doesn’t cut right. But on the other hand Mira’s bow actually works. Reith can carve trees like butter. But you and me? Eira?” He shook his head. “It’s like we were given props from a stage play and told to survive.”

Sai looked away, unreadable. “Or perhaps we just don’t know how to use them.”

They resumed walking, their footsteps syncing without thought.

“Was it just luck that Mira and Reith got working weapons?” Corvin said. “I mean… it can’t be just me that’s suspicious of Reith. The guy was alone for one day, cracked the puzzle, and told nobody.”

He clenched his jaw. “And he gets a weapon that fits him perfectly. That’s not just coincidence.”

“You think he’s involved?” Sai asked.

“I don’t know what I think anymore,” Corvin admitted. “But something about this—it’s too neat. Reith didn’t even flinch at the altar. Everyone else collapsed, but he moved through it like he knew what to expect.”

“We can’t trust him,” Corvin added.

“No,” Sai agreed quietly. “But we have to.”

Corvin stopped. “Why?”

Sai looked toward the stone shape of the mountain, its outline just barely visible through the branches. “Everything in there—the corridors, the puzzles, the weapons. It felt structured. Deliberate. If this is some sort of joke to entertain some lunatic, then we should stick together ”

“And what if its Reith’s?” Corvin asked. His voice trembled—not with fear, but frustration. “What if he’s the lunatic behind it all?”

“We don’t know,” Sai said. “But he’s one of us who can actually use what he was given. That means he’s valuable.”

The distant hoot of an owl echoed through the forest. Both men fell silent. Sai’s hand tightened around the sheath at his side. Corvin adjusted his grip on his axe.

“I just don’t want to trust some weirdo who seems to know more than he says,” Corvin muttered. He let the axe’s blade drag against the earth, leaving a faint groove behind him.

“Then don’t trust him,” Sai replied. “But don’t do anything reckless. Just keep an extra eye on him.”

Corvin gave a small nod. Then another owl call echoed—louder this time, and closer. The sound didn’t fade the way it should have.

Both of them turned toward the trees. Sai narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t think that’s an owl,” he said.

Then came the sound—leaves rustling, branches snapping, rhythmic and fast. Something was approaching.

And it wasn’t small.

Sai tightens his grip around his sword.

Corvin lifted his axe, heart thumping in his ears. “You still think we’re alone?”

Deeper into the forest a pair of amber eyes blinked in the dark.