Kael woke to the sound of a steady pschhhht, followed by a damp crackle He cracked his eyes open, still heavy with sleep, and saw thin strands of white smoke rising into the calm morning air. The smell of dying embers, mixed with damp earth, filled his nostrils.

  Someone had just poured water over the coals.

  He pushed himself halfway upright, arms numb, back stiff. Morning dew beaded on his clothes and skin like a cold blanket—soft, almost soothing. The sky above was clear, a gentle blue crossed by a few early birds. It was beautiful. Again.

  But it wasn’t the sun that was staring at him with murderous intent.

  It was Lucanis.

  He stood beside the fire, empty canteen in hand fixing Kael with a piercing green stare. A direct, icy stare—deeply irritated.

  Kael stretched at length, as if he hadn’t noticed the venom in that expression.

  “Morning… he said, his voice still thick with sleep. You don’t look especially cheerful. Bad dream? Or did you sleep on a root?”

  Lucanis didn’t answer right away. He calmly screwed the cap back onto his canteen, then straightened, never breaking eye contact.

  “Maybe because you fell asleep. During your watch.”

  Kael blinked, genuinely confused.

  “What? No. I didn’t fall asleep. I mean… I don’t think so.”

  Lucanis tilted his head slightly.

  “Oh no? Then you’re going to tell me that the three hours I just spent wide awake while you were snoring were a hallucination?”

  Kael shrugged, a little sheepish—but not truly apologetic.

  “I must’ve been sitting. I just… closed my eyes for a second. Maybe two.”

  “Three hours, Lucanis repeated flatly.”

  Kael grimaced.

  “Oh.”

  Silence. Lucanis stared at the dying embers as if imagining Kael thrown into them whole.

  Then he turned away.

  “It doesn’t matter. We need to get moving again. We have to resume the search. There may still be other Trame Bearers scattered across this damn biome.”

  Kael got to his feet as well, shaking himself like a wet dog. He picked up the rabbit-skin pouch he had made the night before and fastened it to his belt.

  “I’ll keep the pouch, since I’m the one who made it.”

  Lucanis replied in an indifferent tone:

  “Do whatever you want.”

  Kael followed him with a yawn, his gaze drifting for a moment toward the clear sky.

  “I swear, this whole survival-camp nonsense… I’m never getting used to it.”

  They had left the shoreline over an hour ago.

  This time, they were heading into the forest. Sunlight filtered through the trunks, casting golden shafts across the moss and ferns. The trees rose high—still, immense—like the forgotten pillars of an ancient temple. The air was cooler here, heavy with moisture, and each step on the cushioned ground barely made a sound.

  Kael wouldn’t stop talking.

  “And that tree there… it looks like it’s bleeding. You see that? The bark’s all red. That’s normal, right? You think it’s toxic? And that thing—looks like a vine, but like… alive. You think it moves at night?”

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  Lucanis walked on in silence, straight-backed, eyes forward. He didn’t answer a single question. Whether out of sheer botanical ignorance or mild resentment toward the one who had snored through his watch was hard to tell. Probably a bit of both.

  Kael, meanwhile, was fascinated.

  “I’ve never seen this many trees at once, you know? Where I’m from, the only green you get is moss between stones and rotten stumps growing sideways out of buildings—and even that, you’ve gotta earn.”

  Lucanis said nothing.

  Then, after a turn between two gnarled trunks, the forest suddenly opened up.

  A clearing.

  Not one of those vague, muddy stretches you sometimes find between hills. No. This one was breathtaking.

  Flowers—hundreds of them, of every size and color—carpeted the ground in a vast natural tapestry. Vivid hues—violets, oranges, blues, creams—rippled gently in the breeze. Everything was bathed in an almost unreal golden light, as if the sky itself had decided to make this place a sanctuary.

  Kael stopped dead.

  “…fuck.”

  He took a few steps forward, mouth slightly open, as if afraid to breathe too hard and break something.

  “Is this… is this real? You’re seeing this too, right?”

  He bent down and brushed a mauve flower edged in white. It barely moved beneath his fingers—fragile and perfect.

  But Lucanis’ voice yanked him brutally back to reality.

  “Kael. Focus.”

  The tone was sharp. Cutting. Final.

  Lucanis had stopped at the edge of the clearing. He was scanning the ground, eyes narrowed, tense. Kael approached carefully.

  “What? What is it?”

  “Tracks. There.”

  Lucanis pointed to a spot between two clusters of flowers. Footprints—light, but visible. The ground had been compressed in places, and several flowers, half-crushed, drooped limply from broken stems.

  “Someone passed through here. And not long ago.”

  Kael crouched down to take a look himself.

  “You sure? Could be animals”

  “No. Too clean. And look at the direction. It’s a one-way trail, not back and forth.. Someone crossed the clearing. Carefully. But not carefully enough.”

  Kael scanned the surroundings, his gaze sharper now.

  And then, between two trees on the far edge of the clearing, he saw it.

  A thin thread of black smoke rising into the air—discreet, almost invisible in the morning light. Like a sigh the forest had forgotten to hold back.

  He straightened at once.

  “Lucanis… over there. You see the smoke?”

  Lucanis turned his head, narrowed his eyes. He nodded slowly.

  “Poorly extinguished fire. And recent. Someone’s here, Kael. Not far.”

  They approached the plume of smoke with measured steps, skirting around a few tall ferns, eyes alert. Through the trunks, the fire finally came into view.

  Or rather… what was left of it.

  A crude pile of branches, half-charred, some still damp. The embers were barely embers anymore—just a faint warmth struggling to die out. Everything had been put together clumsily, using wood that was far too green, stacked without logic or method. The place reeked of badly burned smoke.

  Kael took in the scene, arms crossed, a sardonic smile tugging at his lips.

  “Honestly… I’ve seen kids do better with three rocks and a rat’s fart. Whoever this was, they weren’t ready for the survival exam.”

  Lucanis remained impassive, though his gaze flicked briefly toward Kael.

  “You can’t even make a fire yourself.”

  “Yeah, but at least I’ve got the good sense not to try.”

  Kael knelt to study the ground more closely as Lucanis took a step away.

  And then—a sound. Faint. Distant. But clear.

  A crack. Then another. Irregular. Fast. Like a struggle, muffled by distance. A chaotic run. Branches snapping. Ragged breathing.

  Lucanis straightened instantly. His whole body went still.

  “You hear that?”

  Kael rose slowly, his expression now serious.

  “Yeah.”

  Without another word, Lucanis took off in the direction of the sound. Kael followed, more cautiously, casting nervous glances around. The forest’s peaceful atmosphere had evaporated. Every shadow between the leaves felt ready to move. Every sound, amplified.

  Light poured through the sparse foliage of the undergrowth.

  And then they saw her.

  A silhouette. Feminine. Slender. She stood at the center of the ring of vegetation, a simple piece of wood in her hand—a sort of staff, barely sturdier than a branch snapped from the ground. But it wasn’t the weapon that drew the eye.

  It was what she was facing.

  A creature hovered above her, agitated, furious. Its body was covered in dark plumage, streaked with grey, oily sheens. Its wings snapped open with sharp, almost metallic claps. Its head… was twisted. Too wide. A mask of unmoving eyes—deep, opaque. A hooked, split beak quivered with a hoarse breath. And its talons—black, long—trembled with impatience each time it dove.

  A bird, perhaps.

  Seen through a nightmare.

  The young woman turned on herself, alert. Each attack was avoided with a half-step, a graceful motion. Her staff cut through the air with surprising precision. She looked as though she were dancing with danger.

  Lucanis took a step forward, ready to intervene.

  “Wait…” Kael murmured.”

  She didn’t need help.

  In one fluid motion, she feinted an evasion, pivoted, then struck. The staff crashed against the creature’s head with a dull crack. The shadow-beast fell like a stone, knocked out cold.

  A moment of silence.

  She remained standing, breathing hard, her gaze still sharp.

  Then she turned slowly, alerted by footsteps on the moss.

  Her eyes met theirs.

  Lucanis stopped dead.

  He went pale. All color drained from his face.

  A breath slipped from his lips.

  “You… it’s you.”