When we reached the road, I stopped for a heartbeat and listened.

  No howls. No growls that sounded like broken glass.

  Just the soft, patient thrum from the pouch at my belt, steady as a metronome, waiting for the next song.

  Ryn walked half a pace behind me. Occasionally she glanced between the trees and me, as if she expected to see something unusual.

  Ahead, the forest began to open, hinting at a clearing and the road beyond.

  But before we reached it… hooves. On the path ahead.

  They weren’t frantic, but measured. Two armoured riders emerged further down the road. Their tabards bore Velmorath’s dark tower and Tyren’s sun. A river and a bridge between two towers marked their shields, the Valenbridge garrison.

  One rider held up a hand.

  “You there! State your business in these woods.”

  Ryn froze and her breath caught.

  The riders looked wary, but their armour was worn and their eyes showed exhaustion more than malice.

  I looked up at them. “We’re travelling and not looking for trouble.”

  The rider who spoke, a broad-shouldered man with grey at his temples, watched me up and down. His gaze lingered on my hair. His horse pawed at the ground and snorted softly.

  The other rider, younger, fingers on the hilt of her weapon, snorted at my words. “Few travellers take this route. Bandits roam the old road. And apparently,” her gaze went to my hair too, “something else.”

  Ryn stiffened but stayed half a step behind me, her hand over her satchel.

  I didn’t flinch under the older rider’s stare. “We’re on our way to Valenbridge.”

  The younger rider spoke again. “You’re lucky we found you. We’re headed for Valenbridge as well. We can escort you as far as the crossroads. It’s safer together.” Then she softened, just a fraction. “Name’s Mira. That’s Captain Edras from the Valenbridge garrison.”

  “What should we call you?” Captain Edras asked.

  “My name is Sayde. We are grateful for your offer, but we do not have horses and don’t want to slow you down.” I said with a small nod.

  I kept Ryn out of this on purpose. We all know how guards can be about… artefacts.

  Captain Edras studied me a moment longer before he nodded as well. A hint of a smile tugged at the lines around his eyes.

  “A considered answer. But unnecessary.” He shifted in the saddle, his posture loosening. “We are scouts, not couriers. Our pace is meant for mortal feet.”

  Mira gave a short laugh at this. “And besides, we’ve ridden through this cursed forest long enough. Our horses will appreciate a slower march.”

  They didn’t push… much. But they left room for us to choose.

  Ryn stepped up beside me, visibly relieved that her name and story remained her own, and whispered into my ear, “We should… accept. Roads are rarely this kind.”

  I inclined my head to the Captain in respect. Without waiting for their reaction, I turned down the road. My steps steady and my hammer hanging from my belt. I kept myself between Ryn and the riders. She fell into step near my shoulder, her breathing easing now that a decision was made.

  Captain Edras guided his horse to walk beside me, keeping a respectful distance. “Valenbridge isn’t too far. With luck, we can sleep under a proper roof tomorrow.”

  Mira rode a few paces back, scanning the trees for danger.

  Between the four of us, the road felt less hostile. But not safe yet.

  We walked like this for hours, until we came across a small creek. Not big enough to require a bridge, but enough for the horses to drink… and to get the monster brain out of my hair.

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  Captain Edras and Mira dismounted to lead their horses to the water.

  I, on the other hand, nearly sprinted towards it.

  I shrugged off my cloak and dunked my head into the stream. Cold punched through my scalp and I sucked in a breath, water rushing in my ears.

  I came up spluttering and immediately went back under, scrubbing at my hair with both hands. My braid came apart in the process. I didn’t care.

  The horses backed away from me and the stream, not used to behaviour like mine. Ryn couldn’t hold back her laughter.

  “You act like a slime decided to make its nest on your head.”

  “No,” I said, wiping water from my eyes. “I act like my hair is full of monster brain.”

  As my head went under again, the world went muffled and far away. The cold should have been only cold.

  Instead, a warmth threaded through it, like sunlight caught in a spring.

  A voice brushed the inside of my skull. Amused. Familiar.

  “Still washing your sins in my waters?” Her amusement curled. “You’ve grown up so much since the first time you played in a spring.”

  The warmth climbed through my fingers and into my bandaged arm, soothing the lingering pain.

  “Remember, child of the forge. Small lives make the stream… and the stream carves mountains.”

  When I came back up again, my hair blissfully free of brains, Edras looked at me like I’d grown a second head. All I managed was a, “What?”

  Mira answered for him. “Looks like you ran into trouble. I’ve never seen someone scrub their head in a creek like this before.”

  “I like brain inside my head, not on it, thank you.”

  Mira’s mouth twitched. Edras didn’t laugh, but the tension around his eyes eased by a fraction.

  I retied my braid with wet fingers and pulled my cloak back on, the fabric cold against my shoulders. The sting in my arm faded, almost polite.

  Edras glanced up at the sky through the thinning branches. “We won’t reach Valenbridge today,” he said. “There’s a dry rise ahead. Old watchfire spot. Good sightlines.”

  Ryn looked relieved at the word dry. “A camp?” she asked, like she was afraid of jinxing it.

  “A camp,” Mira confirmed. “And if we’re lucky, no more surprises.”

  We moved on again, the horses walking slow, hooves soft on packed earth. Ryn fell into step near my shoulder, and the four of us slid into a rhythm that almost felt normal.

  Almost.

  The pouch at my belt pulsed steadily, like it was counting the mistakes we could make.

  The “dry rise” turned out to be a low hill of hard-packed earth and stubborn grass. Not quite high enough to see over the trees but elevated enough to stay dry. Whoever had used this place before us had been sensible. Stones had been set in a rough circle, old ash was ground into the dirt, and a few blackened branches that said campfires had happened here more than once.

  Ryn and I started to gather firewood and talked as we worked. Edras and Mira worked with a quiet routine. Mira led the horses to the downwind side and started unbuckling packs while Edras walked the edge of the rise, eyes scanning the darkening forest with the patience of someone who had learned the price of getting lazy.

  Ryn hovered near me, satchel clutched to her chest like it could keep the night away. The pouch at my belt pulsed in a soft, steady rhythm, almost becoming unnoticeable, as if it approved of the elevation.

  “Dry ground, a nice campfire and two trained knights,” I muttered, mostly to myself. “That’s either the beginning of a great joke or the start of a guardsmen report.”

  Mira snorted as she struck flint. Sparks flew into the tinder with practiced ease. A moment later, flame caught, small at first, then steady. The smell of smoke filled the small clearing before Mira pulled some dried meat from one of the pouches, handing a third to each Edras, Ryn and me and keeping the last third for herself.

  “Now,” Edras started between chews, “how did you end up with brains in your hair?”

  Mira choked on the piece of meat she had just bitten into. Ryn winced at the thought of the unpleasant memory.

  “We were attacked by some mutated wolf thing and I smashed its head.” I said nonchalantly. “The brain splattered a bit. Weird oily stuff. Smelled rotten.”

  Ryn and Mira turned a bit green at my words, the colour much more faint on Ryn’s darker skin.

  “Did you have to ask a question like that while we’re eating?”Mira sounded genuinely disgusted. “Nobody wants to hear about smashed brains during dinner.”

  “You’re eating the dried and cut up corpse of an animal right now.” I said with a small laugh.

  Mira’s hand stopped halfway to her mouth. “Great, now I can’t eat my rations anymore without seeing that picture in my head.”

  Edras laughed again. “She got you there.”

  Mira sighed like she’d just lost an argument with the world and forced herself to chew anyway. Edras hummed between bites, as if this evening was utterly normal.

  When the food was gone, we fell into something quieter. Mira checked the horses’ tack and Edras put a few more big branches onto the fire.

  No grand speeches, just a simple, “We’ll take watches,” from Edras. “Mira first. Then me. You two, sleep.”

  Ryn opened her mouth, probably to argue that we could be trusted with a watch, then closed it again and nodded. I didn’t argue either. I’d had enough fun for one day.

  I lay down with my back to the fire, the pouch at my belt pulsing so softly it blended with my heartbeat.

  Above us, the sky stayed clear. The forest stayed quiet. And despite what happened that day, sleep came easy.

  The next morning was quiet, with a slight haze in the air. No breakfast, just a simple grunt from Edras to start packing up. After we stacked leftover branches next to the fire ring, cleaned out our campsite, and stomped out what was left of the embers, we left the dry rise.

  The first half of the day went by easily with the occasional conversation here and there. We traded the usual questions; where we came from, why we were in the woods, why we were attacked by a monster.

  Then the disc in the pouch on my belt pulsed with more force. It pulled my focus as the forest grew quieter around us. Too quiet.

  When she noticed it, Ryn murmured, “Even the birds are wary…”

  Edras looked up at that, his hand unconsciously slipping to his sword hilt. Mira’s voice was a low hiss. “Something is following us.”

  We all stopped and peered through the trees. The sunlight hadn’t quite won over the morning fog.

  We heard it first, the clank of armour in the woods. The crack of wood as something heavy pushed branches aside.