“Hey, loner. You don’t wake up and the world’s gonna pass you by.” The voice cut through the thick fog of Dotun’s mind, muffled but persistent.

  Dotun grumbled, rubbing a rough hand across his face, the texture of stubble scraping against his palm. His fingers slid up to his eyes, pressing them shut for a moment longer. The heavy scent of rust and old oil mixed with the familiar sharpness of hay and pine, grounding him back into his surroundings.

  When his eyes cracked open again, the shapes around him began to resolve - Halcyon, standing just above him, his large frame blocking some of the morning light from the window. A grin stretched across his red beard, eyes gleaming with faint amusement as he held out a hand to help Dotun up.

  “How long was I out?” Dotun’s voice was hoarse as he pushed himself upright, back cracking as he stretched.

  “Roosters have been screaming for a while.” Halcyon’s laugh rumbled low as he nodded toward the window, “Didn’t see you at the market. Thought you’d finally gone and slept through the end of the world.”

  Halcyon stepped away from the bed, the chain mail over his tall frame jingling against itself. He reached into a satchel on his side and pulled out a small pouch of coins.

  “Daniela gathered up all your traps and sold the goods. Here’s your cut.”

  A deep breath filled Dotun’s lungs, mingling with the musty wood and old leather of the hut. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and grabbed the pouch. The coins inside made a soft clinking sound as they slid against each other, and Dotun tucked it into a small crack between bed and wall.

  “And Zarrail?” Dotun asked, his brow furrowing.

  “Probably singing his heart out in one of the taverns for a pittance.”

  Dotun let out a sigh that bordered on a chuckle, shaking his head. Life was simple, routine - It had been almost a year since they left their homes, but sometimes, he still couldn’t believe it. He could almost hear the sea again, smell the salt in the air and the sharpness in the wind.

  “How has duty been?” Dotun stood, tugging on his linen shirt before grabbing an old vest, pulling it over his matted brown hair and pulling his quiver down from the wall.

  Halcyon shrugged, his broad shoulders shifting beneath his armor, “Quiet, which is nice. Less stressful. Captain of the Vanthe guards came down, had a message about some bandits in his forests.”

  Dotun didn’t need to look to know Halcyon’s hazel eyes were scanning the door behind him, always alert, always assessing. Halcyon had been a soldier long before Dotun had found his place as a hunter, it was simply in his blood. Even now, despite his easygoing tone, a soldier’s vigilance never left.

  “Did Daniela find anything new out there?” Dotun asked, pulling his bow from its makeshift rack.

  Halcyon didn’t respond right away. He stepped back, eyes still on the outside world. His face donned a small frown, before taking a deep sigh and looking back to Dotun.

  “I saw the same thing you did, Dotun. But I’m telling you… it’s just the Unashamed. Velesia wouldn’t come near the Free Cities. There’s treaties, pacts, trade agreements, on and on.” He let out a half-hearted chuckle, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Besides, even if they came, there wouldn’t be war. It’s a thing of our past.”

  Dotun’s fingers tightened around the grip of his bow, but he said nothing. He hated the idea of peace being just a dream.

  No one believed him, or what he ever saw. He was a ranger, alone in the woods more days than he could count. Only good for tall tales to most folk. Some days it was just simpler to live amongst the tall tales then deal with complacency.

  “I wish you were right. But we’ve seen what war brings, Halcyon. The Lion’s no different from the warlords across the sea.” Dotun's voice was rushed, his face flustering with the banter.

  His mind wandered to the stories - fires, fleets burning, villages turned to ash - and his chest tightened as the vision of those stories flickered at the edge of his thoughts, mixing with memories of the suffering across the seas.

  “You’ve heard the stories. How he burned down Nurland. How do we know we’re not in danger?”

  Before Halcyon could respond, Dotun reached for his cowl, his motions sharp and decisive. He needed to see for himself. Whatever it was out there, the Unashamed didn’t march under banners of black and gold. They were just slaves, no better than bandits.

  Once, they were something to fear. Savages from Velesia that even the Lion wouldn’t bear to deal with, but all they were now were mongrels. Causing problems for innocent folk, leaving them to pick up the pieces. But they never attacked in so much force…

  “I’m going out,” Dotun said, his voice low, as he fastened the cowl around his neck, “Tell Daniela I’ll be back by sundown.”

  “No.” Halcyon sighed, his voice turning weary, “I know it’s hard, brother. But these stories? Nurland is savage land a world away. The Unashamed are just petty thieves who are in over their heads.”

  The familiar slap of Halcyon’s hand on his shoulder made Dotun flinch. Halcyon sounded optimistic, but Dotun knew better. The way his hand hovered over the hilt of his sword said everything words wouldn’t.

  He forced a small smile in return, but his thoughts remained elsewhere, lingering on the same image: black and gold banners rising from a sea of ash.

  Just as he stepped toward the door, a sharp whistle cut through the air.

  “Daniela, come in.” Dotun waved as the rogue appeared in the doorway, her light blue eyes sharp, even in the midday sun that cascaded in as she opened the door.

  “Are you finally awake?” Daniela asked, her tone teasing but with an edge of urgency.

  “Halcyon already laughed at me. Is everything okay?” Dotun replied, his grey eyes narrowing at the nervous tone in her voice.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “I found something interesting in the north pines. Figured you two would want to see it.” She stated, pointing outside with a tight fist.

  There was something in Daniela’s voice - subtle but unmistakable - that pricked at Dotun’s senses. She was never nervous, even when the stakes were high.

  “What kind of interesting?” Dotun asked, slinging his quiver over his shoulder.

  “It’s better if you see it for yourself.” She replied simply, stepping back outside.

  The sunlight caught the edge of her dagger as she adjusted her belt, its glint bright against her nimble frame. She was already moving before they had the chance to press her further.

  Dotun followed, Halcyon’s heavy footsteps close behind. The three of them slipped onto the narrow dirt paths that wound between the village outskirts, their boots kicking up small clouds of dust. Above them, Brink’s walls stood tall, yet modest, made of stone bricks from decades ago, casting long shadows that stretched across the bustling streets. Inside the walls, a promise of safety, but to those outside them, what really did they provide? Everything was calm, but if that changed, who would protect the people outside?

  The sun rose higher, warming Dotun’s face as they cut through patches of grass into the forest. The pines grew thick here, their needles softening each step. Dappled sunlight filtered through the canopy, painting golden streaks across the forest floor. Daniela led them with ease, her movements quick and deliberate, each step betraying her practiced stealth, but were understated by something uneasy. Dotun watched her hands fidget and eyes dart every time she looked back, as if something was watching them.

  “It’s not far.” She murmured, glancing back at Dotun, the same nervous tone in her voice.

  The air grew heavier as they moved deeper into the woods, pine mingling with damp earth. Dotun’s instincts grew sharper with each step. He noticed Halcyon’s hand resting lightly on the pommel of his sword, his movements measured but slow.

  Daniela slowed, raising a hand to signal silence. She gestured toward a thicket just off the path, her voice dropping to a whisper.

  “Through there.”

  Dotun stepped through, parting the thick branches. The undergrowth was crushed, leaves and twigs flattened in chaotic patterns. Hoofprints marred the soil, but something else stood out - deep grooves and scratches that didn’t belong. A flash of movement caught his eye.

  The pine-scented air was thick with an unnatural stillness. Dotun’s fingers hovered near his bow as they pressed deeper into the grove. Ahead, a deer grazed, its ears twitching at the slightest sound. Without thinking, Dotun drew an arrow and notched it, his body moving on instinct.

  The bowstring strained under his grip, his breath steady, but just as he prepared to release, the deer bolted into the trees. He sighed, lowering his bow, the arrow still in hand.

  “Too slow.” He muttered under his breath, frustration gnawing at him.

  “You’ll sharpen up, just give it time.” Halcyon clapped him on the back as they moved forward, but the tension in his voice didn’t match the reassurance.

  His voice was steady, calm - almost too calm. There was always something careful about Halcyon’s optimism, as if it were more for himself than anyone else.

  Dotun said nothing, brushing past a low branch and stepping fully into the grove. The sunlight broke through the canopy here, creating a soft, golden glow that should have felt comforting. Instead, it felt like a trap. Too still. The kind of stillness that would set the toughest soldier’s teeth on edge, that quiets the birds, and makes the trees hold their breath.

  “What was it you wanted to show us, Daniela?” Dotun asked, turning to the rogue.

  “Just over here.” She said, her voice clipped.

  She pointed toward a patch of crushed undergrowth. Dotun followed her gesture, crouching low to examine the disturbed foliage.

  The ground was chaos - hoofprints, among something else. Thin, jagged grooves, like claws or indents from dragging something heavy. His brow furrowed as he ran his trembling hand through the soil, sifting for evidence of anything.

  “Halcyon,” He called over his shoulder, his voice tight, “Do guards patrol this area?”

  “Not this far out,” Halcyon shook his head, “The villages and roads, yes, but not here. Too remote.”

  Dotun’s hands laid still against the ground. He stared at the grooves, trying to piece together what could’ve made them. He didn’t have to wonder for long. As he brushed away more of the soil, something glinted faintly in the light.

  The forest held its breath.

  Metal. Cold, resolute. His heart thudded in his chest as he uncovered more - blue and green paint chipped and marred, smeared with dried blood. He stopped as he wiped away the dirt from its crest. It was the chest plate of a guardsman.

  The sight of the crest made his chest tighten like a vice. He wanted to look away, to pretend this was just another nightmare, but the blood all over the dead man beneath him was real.

  “No…” Dotun whispered, his voice barely audible.

  He clawed at the soil, frantic now. His nails scraped against fabric - stiff, damp, and rotted. The sickly-sweet stench of decay hit him, turning his stomach.

  “Halcyon!” His voice cracked as he unearthed more of the body.

  The arming coat, once cream-colored, was soaked in dark, crusted red. The chest plate was dented, as though something heavy had struck it repeatedly. Dotun’s hands trembled as he pulled back, the knot in his stomach tightening with every breath.

  Halcyon knelt beside him, his face pale and eyes wide. The soldier reached out towards the body but recoiled at the smell.

  “This… this isn’t possible.” He murmured, his voice barely more than a breath.

  “Dotun, over here.” Daniela’s voice cut through the rising panic.

  He turned, staggering to his feet as she stepped forward, holding a torn scrap of canvas. She handed it to him, her expression tight and jaw clenched. Dotun turned the fabric over in his hands, his heart sinking as he saw the sigil emblazoned on it: a golden lion. Proud. Enraged.

  “Velesia.” He muttered, the word tasting bitter on his tongue.

  Halcyon stumbled backwards suddenly, shaking his head as if denying what was in front of him would make it disappear.

  “No. There are treaties. They wouldn’t dare.” Halcyon spoke frantically, but the eerie calm in his voice betrayed the truth, he knew from his battles that words meant nothing.

  “Treaties don’t mean anything to the Lion.” Dotun snapped, his voice harsher than he intended.

  He looked back at the body, mostly uncovered now. His eyes caught a brutal detail that made his blood freeze over. The dead guard’s throat was slit cleanly, but it wasn’t the wound that made Dotun’s blood run cold. It was instead the mark on the man’s forehead. A brand burned deep into his skin. The mark of the Lion. A gruesome reminder of his oppression.

  Dotun staggered, the forest spinning around him. He squeezed his eyes shut, but memories came uninvited: the roar of the fires, black and golden banners rising high over a burning farmstead, the smell of the dead charred by butchers. He’d seen this brutality before.

  “Dotun, what do we do?” Daniela’s voice broke through his haze, her hands shaking slightly.

  He opened his eyes, meeting her gaze.

  “We warn Brink.” Dotun said hesitantly, his voice steady in spite of the storm in his chest.

  “I pray that it’s not already too late.” Halcyon said, his eyes locked onto the dead guard.

  “Nobody will listen, Dotun. You know that.” Daniela said quickly, her voice teetering with an edge of fear that made Dotun uneasy, “They never listen.”

  Dotun shook his head, conflicted. She was right, even if they said something, what would the people even do?

  One thing was certain. Velesia was coming, and Brink was too dependent on pieces of paper to keep the peace. But when the Lion’s shadow fell on their walls, they would crumble like they weren’t even there.