They did not take the road that led to the village.
Amia led them from the upper ridge of a hill that overlooked the village instead — far enough to remain unseen, close enough to measure.
“It’s Vialre Village,” Nikolai utters. His back to the direction of the village, eyes guarding their rear.
Amia lifted her face to the wind, inhaling sharply.
“Makes sense,” she says after a short pause, “their harbour is just west from here.”
The coastal winds from the west had carried over the smell of seawater and the scent that’s typical of a fishing village — seaweed, organic sealife waste, and dried fish — but underneath it the iron-like scent that has been plaguing Amia’s sense of smell for the past couple days remains there.
Vialre looked intact.
Smoke rose from the charcoal kiln, fishermen shared stories about their day’s catch, market awnings swung in the air lazily.
Nothing screamed danger, nothing looked abandoned, and nothing looked like the attack on the capital had had any affect on the village’s daily life.
And that was wrong.
“Tha casting’s happening from within walls,” Maya says.
She too had sat her back facing the village, her eyes closed and her thumb tracing her fingers.
Amia’s attention shot to Maya, and her companion’s did too.
“You okay?” she asks.
“Hm?” Maya’s eyes flickered open as her thoughts returned, “y-yeah..”
Amia’s voice had carried a hint of concern, whether she had intended to or not.
“Sorry…ever since that direwolf we came across. It’s just been easier for me to pick up on these energies around me,” Maya’s eyes stared blankly as she explained. “It’s been too weird.”
“Okay.” Amia responded.
Short.
Sharp.
Amia looked towards her companion.
Her tall figure curled over as she scanned the treeline and the village on one knee.
Silent.
Always silent.
Amia crept away. Without any direction or command, the others followed.
Making their way towards camp the way they came was easy enough. Making sure that they stayed out of view and away from the road.
The canopy of the trees beginning to shelter them from the glare of the sun as the light gets broken into a million smaller fractales.
The taller woman flanking Amia reached over the front of Amia, her arm sliding down across Amia’s chest and digging in between her breasts.
A small forceful pull backwards, but not enough to unbalance her.
Faint energy passed beneath Maya’s feet, and she stopped right where she was.
Nikolai’s hand immediately reached for his blade, but stopped before unsheathing.
Amia snapped her attention over to the face above hers.
Not annoyance.
More of calibration.
The face above hers remained rigid — gaze locked on to the trees.
Maya spoke first.
“Don’t move, and take a small step back towards me.”
Amia did as instructed, extra careful of her foot placement. The taller woman lifting her arm from her chest as she did.
She got on one knee while her fingers slowly brushed around the area that Amia’s boots would have been a few moments ago, before slowly grabbing onto something.
Long fingers wrapped around a thin steel trace. Too flexible to be a wire, but not clear enough to be nylon.
The companion held it in her hand for a moment, careful to not push or pull unnecessarily.
But the tension in the line did not come from her.
The force of the pull was enough to slide the line out of her palm.
To their right — on the road that they had been avoiding — a villager had walked past carrying his rucksack.
Unaware.
Thin hide boots pull on the line, raising it to the man’s shin.
A snap of sound as the rest of the line tightened and bolts of energy in the form of lightning struck the man.
Nikolai’s massive palm covered Maya’s mouth as she let out a muffled scream. Throwing his body onto hers as he dragged her to the ground.
Beside them an almost mirrored sequence followed — the taller woman dragging Amia down with her.
Both followers shielding their Masters as an explosion of rock, bark, and debris rang out, striking the multiple tree trunks around them.
Amia tilted her head down but a broad back blocked her view — but she didn’t need to see to realise what the outcome was — the smell was familiar enough.
Maya, not so lucky.
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Looking over at where the explosion had happened and only seeing pink mist settling, and a few remains of torn cloth and fabric waving about in the wind as it fell to the ground.
Her eyes agape in shock of what she just witnessed.
Or what’s left.
“Not now, we have to move,” Nikolai loudly whispers as Maya reels from the shock — body unsure of how to respond to being grabbed and dragged — dazed.
The other pair had already gotten on their feet when Nikolai finally releases his hand from Maya’s mouth. Her panicked breathing making each scrambled movement feel like a swim through thick mud.
Four sets of legs did their best to move through thick brush as fast as they could while making the least amount of sound possible. No sense of synchronicity in between any of them.
There was no time to think as the panic stirred.
A raw patch of earth marked where their previous camp had been.
They didn’t stop moving until they were deeper under the cover of the trees.
Only then did the tall woman release her grip.
Amia staggered forward a step before catching herself. She lowered to one knee — hand braced at her hip.
No blood.
Just strain.
She eventually let out a pained groan as she drops onto her back. Eyes blank, staring at the specks of light breaking through the treetop.
A tall figure dropped beside her — not collapsing, but lowering with control.
Breath heavy. Yet remaining steady.
Maya didn’t have that control.
She folded to her knees, both hands pressed into the dirt, head bowed. Her breathing came uneven — too fast, too shallow.
Nikolai knelt beside her immediately.
Not touching at first.
Watching.
And waiting.
Only when her shoulders began to shake did his hand settle on her upper back.
“I’m alright,” Maya forced between breaths.
The lie was thin. And obvious.
Amia continued to stare up through the branches. Thin slivers of sunlight danced with the leaves.
“What the fuck just happened,” Maya whispered, not lifting her head. “I missed him.”
Silence answered her instead.
“He was right there,” she continued. “I felt the field…or something. I felt the distortion and I still—”
Her voice cut off.
Nikolai’s hand shifted from her back to her shoulder.
Not restraining. Not silencing.
Just steady.
“It adapted,” he said quietly. “It redirected when the line felt a pull.”
Maya swallowed hard.
“I should have seen that.”
“You were targeted,” Nikolai replied.
The field had tightened around Maya first. Not the rest of them.
It was measuring for Magick instability and Maya’s triggered it.
“Fuck.” Amia whispered.
The taller woman turned around onto her back to also stare at the treetop beside Amia.
Silence covered their circle for a few more moments.
“That wasn’t a trap,” Amia utters, breaking the silence in the air.
No one argued.
“That was a test.”
The word hung there.
Maya lifted her head at last. Her eyes still wet — not from grief.
From fury.
“It was watching us,” she said.
“Yes,” Amia agreed.
Another breath of silence fell between the four of them again before Nikolai spoke.
“I think,” Nikolai paused and took a deep breath before continuing, “that it will be safer for us in the village.”
“I think you’re right,” Amia says in response.
No one liked the answer.
But no one had a better one.
She turns her head to the side.
The view of Nikolai with his hand on Maya’s shoulder stuck.
Their formation had reassembled without instruction this time.
The tall woman to the right flank of Amia — who was in the centre.
Maya to the left rear of her, and Nikolai to the left of Maya just slightly up ahead.
They had not gone far before Amia slowed.
Just enough.
Maya nearly passed her before noticing.
“You trust him,” Amia said quietly.
Maya did not pretend any confusion or deliberation.
“Yes.”
“He stepped into it, just like that.”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t command that.”
“No.”
They walked in silence for several paces.
Brush snapped and cracked beneath their boots, wind shifted through the leaves.
And like a memory of the conversation they had had after their encounter with the first trap.
“That wasn’t obedience,” Amia said.
“No.”
“It was choice.”
“Yes.”
Amia’s jaw tightened as she deliberated on what to ask next.
“When you binded with him,” she said, voice lower now, “did it feel like losing authority?”
Maya smiled faintly.
“It felt like choosing it.”
Amia absorbed that.
Ahead of them, Nikolai pushed aside a branch without looking back.
The tall figure by Amia followed her pace precisely — neither overtaking nor falling behind.
Silent.
Always silent.
“And the speech,” Amia said.
Maya’s eyes flicked to her.
“You’re thinking about it,” Maya answers.
“I’m thinking about what it changes.”
“It changes nothing about loyalty.”
“It changes hierarchy,” Amia thought out loud.
“It formalizes it,” Maya corrected.
Amia exhaled slowly.
“If she had spoken before I stepped forward,” she said, “the first trap would not have triggered.”
Maya did not reply, also not denying what was just said.
“If she had spoken just now,” Maya says, “she might have recognized the shift in the field faster than I did.”
Amia’s stared at the ground in front of them as they continued navigating their way through the brush.
There was no judgment in Maya’s voice.
Only acknowledgment.
“And once granted?” Amia asked.
“It cannot be withdrawn.”
That settled between them like weight.
Irreversible.
Binding.
The tall woman moved closer as the terrain narrowed, one hand hovering briefly at Amia’s back to guide her around a drop in the earth.
Instinct.
Protective.
Unbidden.
Amia did not push her away.
Not this time.
She looked ahead at the distant rooftops of Vialre that finally came into view.
The past hour of retracing their steps had paid off, except this time taking a deviation through a small pasture of land.
They had reasoned that if the mystery caster was going to set more traps, there would be less chance of it in the middle of a farming field.
In Vialre, the smoke still rose, their lanterns still burned, and people still lived.
Unaware.
Behind her, the silence from the silent companion pressed against her spine.
And for the first time—
Amia wasn’t certain if it was strength.
