Kaelor looked at the wardens and their meticulously shaped longbows. The wardens themselves stood like carved effigies of war, tall and broad-shouldered, their bodies a strange blend of lean elegance and brutal potential. Aside from their intimidating forms, Kaelor could sense something deeper, an invisible thread that connected them to him. Not loyalty, not duty… something older, instinctive. As if they were extensions of his own will.
He turned to a tree, one of the few left standing amid the clearing.
The lumberers had worked with deliberate spacing, cutting in wide arcs to open up the land, but a handful of stubborn trunks still dotted the terrain. This particular tree stood two hundred and fifty metres away, its dark-barked frame rising straight and tall like a lonely sentinel.
Around it, three other trees hovered close enough to confuse the eye. To a casual observer, it would've been maddening, nearly impossible, to know which one Kaelor's gaze had fixed on.
