Orin Alpheratz (15 years old) Location: Solaris Date: Year 873 / Crow Cycle (3) / Bard's Day (9)

  Both Church soldiers broke into frantic motion, running in opposite directions as the small encampment was swallowed by fire.

  "How did this happen?!" one of them shouted. "I felt something rush past me!"

  "I felt it too!" the other replied, coughing as smoke filled his lungs. "Whatever it was, the lamp just exploded!"

  From his perch, Orin exhaled slowly in relief. Thanks to the sudden blaze, neither guard had noticed the arrow itself. But the situation wasn’t unfolding exactly as he had planned.

  The flames weren’t stopping at the camp.

  The cart was burning too.

  Orange light crawled up the tarp, the wood beginning to crack and hiss as the fire took hold. Orin tensed, eyes locked on the guards, ready to strike if either of them tried to push through the wall of flames toward the cart.

  Then he heard it—branches snapping behind him.

  They’re moving.

  Loki and Rick were already in position.

  Still, time was against them. If the fire spread any further, the supplies inside the cart would be lost.

  "What do we do?!" one guard shouted. "How do we put this out?"

  "There’s nothing we can do!" the other answered, panic creeping into his voice. "A patrol has to be nearby. If they saw this, they’ll be here any second!"

  Cold sweat slid down Orin’s temple. He lifted his gaze toward the road.

  Distant points of light were already moving toward them.

  Reinforcements…

  "Damn it," he muttered.

  Then a voice rose from below.

  "Hey! Someone’s inside the cart!" one guard yelled, squinting through the flames. Two shadows shifted beneath the burning tarp.

  "Intruders!" the other roared, drawing his sword as he rushed around the fire, trying to reach the cart from the side.

  There was no time to hesitate.

  Orin hadn’t fully recovered his energy. Activating Speed Up again wasn’t an option. This would have to be clean. Precise.

  He launched himself from the branch.

  "ACTIVATE HUNTER SKILL: Piercing Dagger."

  He hit the ground behind the guard like a falling blade, driving his dagger into the man’s shoulder in a single fluid motion.

  A scream tore through the night.

  "Aaagh—!"

  The second guard spun around in horror.

  "What’s going on?! We’re under attack!"

  Orin ripped the dagger free, blood spraying across the dirt, and pivoted toward the remaining soldier—but before he could strike again, a blur burst from behind the cart.

  Loki.

  Sword in hand, he lunged forward, catching the guard off-balance with a strike from the rear. The blade scraped across armor, failing to pierce—but it was enough.

  The guard staggered.

  That was all Orin needed.

  He stepped in.

  "ACTIVATE HUNTER SKILL: Piercing Dagger."

  Steel bit deep.

  The second guard collapsed, armor clattering against the ground as the fire crackled behind them.

  "You showed up just in time," Orin said as he ran toward Loki, passing the soldier sprawled on the ground, clutching his bleeding shoulder and writhing in pain.

  "I found this sword and didn’t hesitate," Loki replied with a shrug. "Rick should be finishing up inside the wagon."

  They hurried to the far side of the cart, where the flames hadn’t fully taken hold. Several backpacks and weapons were already piled on the ground. Rick was still inside, frantically searching through the remaining supplies.

  "Rick, a platoon is on its way," Orin warned in a low voice. "We need to finish this now."

  "I can see the torches," Loki added, eyes fixed on the road. "They’re getting closer."

  "Just a second—almost there…" Rick muttered. Then his face lit up. "Got it!"

  He jumped down from the wagon, holding up a quiver of arrows with a triumphant grin.

  "These should be useful, Orin."

  Rick handed them over, and Orin took them without hesitation. The weight of the quiver felt reassuring in his hand.

  "Exactly what I needed," he said with a firm nod.

  "We need to move," Loki urged, already gathering backpacks from the ground. "They’ll be here any moment."

  "Right," Rick agreed, slinging a pack over his shoulder. A sword and shield now rested in his hands.

  Orin was the last to leave, grabbing the final backpack before following them into the trees. After a short distance, they regrouped behind a cluster of dense bushes.

  "We should stay close to the road," Orin whispered. "Going deeper into the woods would be too risky."

  "I agree," Loki replied quietly. "There could be magical beasts out there."

  Through the foliage, they saw soldiers arriving at the burning camp—more than Orin had expected. Six of them, at least.

  "Search the area," one of them barked authoritatively. "The intruders can’t have gone far. Report anything suspicious immediately."

  The soldiers spread out, lanterns swaying as they combed the surroundings.

  Rick swallowed hard. "What do we do? We won’t get out of here without being spotted."

  Orin didn’t answer right away. His attention was on the quiver in his hands. He counted quickly.

  Eight arrows…

  Not enough to carry them all the way to the West Gate—but enough to break through this situation.

  "I’ll draw their attention," Orin said calmly. "I’ll attack from a distance."

  Loki and Rick looked at him, startled.

  "If you see even the smallest opening," Orin continued, "return to the path immediately. Don’t wait for me. Put distance between yourselves and the soldiers—we’ll regroup later."

  The two hesitated, then nodded.

  Orin preferred it this way. As first-years, their combat experience was limited. In a fight like this, they’d only slow him down.

  With a short gesture, he signaled them to move. Loki and Rick slipped away, using bushes and shadows for cover.

  Orin remained behind.

  Silently, he climbed a nearby tree, disappearing into the darkness above as the search closed in.

  Once Orin settled onto a branch that offered a clear view of the area, he spotted figures moving through the darkness, their silhouettes marked by lanterns similar to the one that had illuminated the wagon.

  "All clear over here!" one of the guards shouted, inspecting the ground near Orin alongside another soldier.

  Orin considered repeating his earlier tactic—aiming for the lamps with Solar Arrow—but dismissed it almost immediately. Hitting a moving target in the dark was risky. Even with his natural affinity for the bow, a miss would cost him an arrow… and worse, reveal his position.

  He tried to spot Rick and Loki, but the night swallowed everything beyond a few trees.

  I don’t have much time, Orin thought, impatience tightening his chest as he drew an arrow and set it to the string.

  The soldiers continued sweeping the area, lanterns swaying as they checked bushes and tree trunks. No opening presented itself.

  Then one of them spoke up.

  "I think I saw movement not far from here," the guard said, pointing toward the direction Rick and Loki had taken.

  Several heads turned at once.

  "Damn it… no more hesitation," Orin muttered, pulling the bowstring taut.

  "ACTIVATE HUNTER SKILL: Solar Arrow."

  The arrow flared with golden light as it flew—but grazed the lamp instead of striking it cleanly, embedding itself in the ground.

  "They’re attacking from the trees!" the lantern-bearing guard shouted. "It’s an ambush!"

  Orin clicked his tongue, already nocking another arrow. The miss stung—but at least the confusion worked in his favor.

  Still, with all eyes now fixed on the trees, activating Solar Arrow again would be suicide. The glow would give him away instantly.

  "Search the trees in that sector," one of the soldiers ordered as they advanced toward Orin’s position.

  Before they could get any closer, a shout erupted from below.

  "Fire—there’s fire here!" one soldier cried, pointing to a small blaze where the solar arrow had ignited a pile of dry leaves and branches.

  "There must be someone else here… a fire sorcerer!" another yelled, unaware of the true cause.

  Panic rippled through the group. The soldiers regrouped, torn between pressing the search and taking defensive positions.

  Orin seized the moment.

  Good. Let them believe that.

  He drew another arrow, steadying his breath.

  "ACTIVATE HUNTER SKILL: Piercing Arrow."

  A faint blue glow traced the shaft as the arrow flew true, striking one of the guards square in the chest. The man screamed and collapsed.

  "Damn it—we’re surrounded!" another soldier shouted.

  "Shields up! Hold formation!" barked the apparent leader, trying to keep order.

  Orin could see it now—the fear in their movements, the hesitation in their stances. If he kept pressing, he might force a full retreat… though it would cost him most, if not all, of his remaining arrows.

  He reached for another—

  —and froze.

  A war horn echoed through the night.

  It wasn’t the long, drawn-out call used by Solaris and its forces. This one was sharp and staccato, each blast deeper than the last. Orin had never heard it before—but the soldiers had.

  Their faces drained of color.

  "That sound…" one of them whispered.

  "It’s the signal of the Star Children."