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Nathan's POV
The woods were quieter than usual when I arrived. Tall trees swayed slightly in the wind, their branches creaking as if whispering secrets. The earthy smell of damp soil clung to the air, and sunlight fought through the thick canopy in fractured beams. My boots crunched against dead leaves as I stepped out of the shadows and into the small clearing where they were all gathered.
And then I saw him.
Elisha.
The boy who dared to contend with me. The pest who thought mocking me was the same as standing on equal ground.
Our eyes met. For a heartbeat, time itself stalled, then he—of course—grinned. Not a friendly grin. Not even a simple smirk. No, he had the audacity to grin like I was some joke only he understood. Mockery. Insolence.
My jaw tightened before I caught myself. I don't allow emotions to rule me—not anger, not pity, not joy. Yet when it came to him, it was different. Rage came too easily. The urge to put him in his place burned too strongly.
So I smirked back. Cold. Cruel. Dismissive. My kind of smirk. A quiet way of telling him: you're beneath me, boy. Then I looked away, deliberately, as though he was unworthy of even my gaze.
The king stood in the center of the clearing, his robe a deep maroon that looked out of place against the wilderness. His crown glinted faintly where sunlight struck it, his eyes hard as stone. He was already speaking, his voice rolling like a rehearsed sermon.
"Raiders, today you embark on a journey that will test not only your skill, but your spirit…"
I almost groaned aloud. Another speech. Long-winded, predictable, and drenched in the kind of idealism that makes men weak. I despised speeches—they were the tools of men who wanted to sound powerful but lacked true strength. This isn't a coronation, old man. We're heading into a death trap, not a parade.
I was seconds away from telling him to stop when—
"Elisha," of course.
The boy cut through the king's words with his drawling voice, casual and sharp as broken glass.
"Old man, can you shut up already?" he said, arms crossed, his grin stretching wider. "We're not going berry-picking here, or making some grand debut in front of cheering fans. We're walking straight into a death trap. You think we need another boring lecture?"
Gasps rippled through the clearing. Paige's eyes went wide, horrified as if she had just heard blasphemy. Her lips parted, but no words came. She looked ready to scold him like a mother catching a child swearing at the dinner table.
Xavier flinched, looking every bit the pampered child he was. His fingers twitched nervously at the hilt of his sword, his expression somewhere between disbelief and dismay.
Darcelle… didn't even blink. Her expression stayed cool, unreadable, though her gaze lingered on Elisha as if weighing his worth—or his foolishness.
And me?
I felt it again. That pulse of irritation, sharp and alive. This boy has no respect. No discipline. No regard for power or order. And yet—
The king's mask cracked. I had always known it would eventually, but not because of him.
"Insolent!" the king thundered, his voice cutting through the trees.
But Elisha? He only shrugged. Smirked. And muttered, "Whatever. Just fuck off already."
The audacity.
Paige looked like she might faint. Xavier's jaw practically hit the ground. Darcelle raised one eyebrow, almost impressed.
And me—I grinned. Slowly. Mockingly. Because if nothing else, the boy had guts, even if misplaced.
Elisha's eyes flicked to me, searching, waiting for my reaction. I let him look. Then, just as slowly, I turned away. Dismissed him. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing my temper flare. Not yet.
The king spat out a few more words—empty phrases about duty, loyalty, fate. I didn't bother listening. His authority had already cracked under Elisha's interruption. A king undone by a green raider? Pathetic.
Finally, with heavy steps, he turned and left us in the clearing. Just the five of us remained.
Xavier, ever the eager child, broke the silence. He stepped forward, puffed up with false confidence. "Well, since we'll be traveling together…" He forced a smile. "My name is Xavier, high-ranked Blue Raider. It's an honor to—"
"Are we at a banquet?" I muttered under my breath. His attempt at civility was laughable.
Paige cut in quickly, her voice stern, almost scolding. "Introductions are necessary. If we are to fight side by side, we must know one another."
Of course she'd say that. Always playing the elder sister, always lecturing.
"I am Paige," she continued firmly, her chin lifted. "High-ranked Blue Raider."
Her eyes swept toward Darcelle expectantly.
The dark-haired girl hesitated for the briefest moment before saying flatly, "Darcelle. High-ranked Red Raider."
So this was her. The heir. The king's secret weapon wrapped in quiet defiance. I studied her for a moment—her posture controlled, her voice calm, her presence heavy despite her silence. She was dangerous, no doubt. But still not enough to impress me.
And then, of course, Elisha.
He leaned against a tree, his arms folded, a grin tugging at his lips. His voice dripped mockery when he said, "What about our lovely Black Raider? Shouldn't he introduce himself? Tell us all how powerful he is, how wealthy beyond reason, how perfectly sculpted, how utterly better than the rest of us?" He tilted his head, eyes glinting with mischief. "Why's he standing there sulking? Already feeling overwhelmed by the journey we haven't even started? Regretting your life decisions, maybe? You could always go back—it won't break your ego, since you've got a lot of it to spare."
His words were knives, intentionally sharpened to cut.
I ignored him at first. But then—I smiled. Slow. Cold. A grin that promised nothing but venom.
"Why don't you tell us," I said, my voice low and sharp, "how you upgraded from being a street thief… to a servant… and now to someone foolish enough to chase after what will consume him?"
Gasps again. Paige stiffened, Xavier's eyes darted nervously, Darcelle's lips curved in the faintest ghost of amusement.
Elisha pushed off the tree, walking toward me casually, grin widening. "What consumes me will consume you too," he shot back.
I stepped closer, coldness radiating off me. "Impossible. Where you all fail, I rise. That is what makes me greater than you, Elisha. Greater than all of you combined."
He didn't flinch. Didn't hesitate. He walked straight up until he stood before me, nose to nose, mocking grin intact.
"We're walking on the same ground," he murmured, voice low but sharp. "Eating the same food. Breathing the same air. And when death comes—whether black, green, blue, or red—we all fall the same. Your arrogance won't save you, Nathan." He leaned in slightly, his grin burning. "And if I die, I'll drag you with me, just to prove you're not above what's above me."
That grin. That infuriating grin.
"You'll die alone," I said coldly, each word a blade.
Then I turned and started walking, leaving them behind.
"Elisha!" Paige's voice rang out, sharp with authority. "Enough! Both of you!"
But Elisha wasn't done.
"Not possible, Nathaniel."
I froze.
No one called me that. Not anymore. Not since my mother and brother died. Not even my father dared. The name cut like a blade, sharp and personal.
Slowly, I turned my head, my glare icy enough to freeze fire.
And there he was, still grinning, still mocking. Still daring.
"Still laughing," he said. "Funny you're not."
Paige's voice broke in again, firm and desperate. "That's enough! Both of you! Elisha, stop with your comments. Nathan, whatever you're brewing in that head of yours—stop it."
Xavier added quickly, his tone shaky but hopeful. "We're in this together, aren't we? We haven't even gotten a quarter of the way through the woods and it's already almost evening. Let's… let's just move forward."
Elisha smiled then. Not his mocking grin. Not amusement. A hollow, empty smile. The kind of smile that hides too much pain to show openly. He slung one arm around Xavier's shoulders.
"Come on, kid. Let's move on."
"Kid?" Xavier bristled immediately. "I'm not a kid!"
Elisha chuckled. "Shut up. The only thing making you tall is your rank. Otherwise, you're just a big child. Let's go, before we make our six-year-old Xavier mad."
He shot me a look as he passed, grin sharp as ever. I hissed quietly, forcing my temper down. Recklessness would only give him what he wanted.
I can't believe the king made him the fifth. An insult.
Paige walked past silently, her eyes still sharp with disapproval. Darcelle, however, fell into step beside me. Her voice was soft but clear.
"Funny enough," she murmured, "you're the only one I tolerate among them."
I let out a short, cold laugh. "And funny enough," I replied flatly, "you're all a waste of time to me."
She chuckled dryly, unoffended, and matched my pace.
The five of us walked deeper into the woods. Shadows stretched long, the sun sinking lower, the silence between us heavy and brittle.
But in my mind, one thought pulsed louder than all else:
Elisha. That pest. That reckless fool.
Once again, I scolded myself for letting him occupy my thoughts at all. I bit down hard on my tongue, a punishment, a reminder—don't fall into his traps. Don't let him dictate your actions.
And yet, there he was ahead of me, laughing with Xavier as if he hadn't just baited me into almost drawing my sword.
I clenched my fists at my sides, fury burning slow and deep.
This wasn't over. Not by far.
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