Late summer 1009 AC pressed down on the Blackwood. Pine filled my lungs. Two months after Corin's warning, our clan stood ready—spears sharp, shelters strong, Syla's arm healing from drills. At nine, I moved fast, eyes set on Thornvale's scout. In the Keep years ago, Seraphina's kind smile had warmed me, but she thought me dead now, like Montala did. Valerius hunted our clan. I stayed focused, the forest alive under my boots.
Elara kept pace, her green eyes sharp. She held her woven map, its threads faintly glowing. Rhea's nod sent us east with Taryn and Joren, their spears catching sunlight. "Stay alert," Rhea said, her voice firm. Her gray hair shone. Her trust spurred me, not weighed me down.
We moved through the forest, boots quiet on moss. Every rustle sharpened my senses. "Stay low," I whispered. Elara's map guided us through twisted paths, its glow steady. Taryn gripped his spear, eyes hard. "Let's see what Thornvale's fighting for," he said, his voice low.
Joren scanned the trees, his spear steady. "Corin's from Montala. You sure he's not lying, Elias?" His words carried doubt. I met his gaze and sensed his fear's truth. "He's with us. I'm sure." Valerius threatened the clan, but the scout held my focus.
Thornvale's edge appeared. A charred stench hit, thick with woodsmoke and fear. A burned tax cart sat in a clearing. Its wheels were split, Montala's triangles scorched black. My chest tightened. The Church's grip was clear. Elara's map pulsed. "We're here," she whispered.
Footprints led to villagers, their faces gaunt and eyes hollow. A woman's arm bore a fresh brand—three interlocking triangles, red and raw. My jaw set. Montala's cruelty stood plain. "They're punishing them," I said coldly. Taryn's spear shifted. "Thornvale's fighting back," he muttered.
A twig cracked. My senses flared. "Down!" I hissed and pulled Elara behind a log. Taryn and Joren dropped low, spears ready. Hooves thundered. Six Montala riders in white robes charged, swords flashing. Their leader's cloak bore the Church's mark. Valerius's threat lived.
"Stay down!" I whispered. My heart raced as I tracked their steps. Elara's hand shook, her map dim. "They're close," she said firmly. I focused and willed branches to shift, a faint nudge like water long ago. The riders paused. Their eyes swept the trees.
"They're here!" a rider yelled, sword raised. Arrows flew. One grazed Taryn's arm. "Move!" he growled as blood welled. I pushed harder. Branches tangled their horses' legs. "Run!" I shouted and grabbed Elara. We bolted. Joren and Taryn followed. The forest blurred underfoot.
Thorns snagged my cloak. My senses cut through brambles. An arrow whizzed past and splintered a tree. "Keep moving!" Joren shouted, his voice raw. Elara's map pointed to a ravine. "There!" she said, her eyes fierce. We slid down. Mud was slick. The riders' cries faded.
We huddled in the ravine. Breaths came sharp. Pine and sweat hung heavy. Taryn bound his wound, his jaw tight. "They're quick," he said quietly. I nodded and scanned for pursuit. "Thornvale's fighting, but Montala's brutal," I said. Valerius's threat pressed hard.
The hike back was quiet. The forest hummed low. At camp, the fire snapped. Faces were tense—Syla's sling poised, Mara weaving nets, Kael eager. Rhea stood tall. "What did you see?" she asked sharply. I told of the cart, the branded villagers, the ambush. My voice stayed steady.
Corin sat under Fael's spear. His eyes were worn. "There's more," he said quietly, his voice shaking. "In Montala, I heard their plan. They'll crush Thornvale's rebellion and then burn our camp." My chest tightened. The Church hunted us, blind to my survival.
"Burn us?" Syla snapped. Her sling was taut. "After Thornvale?" Her voice flared. Mara's hands stilled. "They're coming here?" she asked quietly. Kael stepped forward, fists tight. "We'll stop them!" he said, his voice bold despite his youth.
Toren's staff hit the ground. "Corin's lying to save himself!" he said roughly. His glare struck me. Fael's spear twitched. "Speak, defector," she said coldly. The clan's voices rose, sharp as thorns in the firelight. Doubt and fear clashed.
I faced Corin and sensed his truth. "What's their plan?" I asked calmly. Corin swallowed. "Valerius wants Thornvale crushed and our camp gone. I heard it in their halls." His eyes met mine, raw with fear for us all.
Rhea stepped up. Her gray hair caught firelight. "Elias, you backed him. Is he true?" Her gaze was firm. I nodded. "He's not lying. Montala's coming for the Blackwood." The threat hit hard. I kept my focus sharp.
Syla's fists clenched. "We fight!" she said fiercely. "Thornvale's burning, and we're next!" Mara nodded. Her threads gleamed. "We strike back," she said, her eyes hard. Toren scoffed. "And die? Valerius will brand us all!" The clan's voices grew louder.
"What's our move, Rhea?" Taryn asked. Blood had dried on his arm. His spear stayed raised. Kael bounced. "I can help!" he said. Mara pulled him back gently. "Stay, Kael," she said. The clan's eyes turned to Rhea and then to me. Their trust was clear.
I stood. My hands were steady from drills. "We train harder and guard our paths," I said clearly. "Thornvale's fight weakens Montala. We watch and wait." A faint flow steadied my resolve, like the forest's beat.
Rhea nodded firmly. "Prepare the camp. Elias, Elara, plan our defenses." Mara's net tightened. "Make it count," she said quietly. Syla's sling twitched. "I'm ready," she said. Kael stood taller. "Me too!" he added, small but fierce.
Elara leaned close. Her green eyes shone. She folded her map. "We're stronger together," she whispered. Her voice was steady from our stream lessons. Her hand brushed mine, sealing our bond. I nodded. My mind stayed sharp. The forest felt alive.
The fire popped. Shadows flickered on woven shelters. "We won't break," I said. My voice was clear and my resolve firm. Taryn's spear shone. Syla's hands steadied. Kael's eyes glowed. The clan's will flared against Valerius's threat.
Corin sat quiet. Fael's spear stayed near. His words about Montala's plan stung. "How soon?" I asked quietly. Corin nodded. "After Thornvale falls, we're next." My gut stayed firm. My mind fixed on the fight.
A rustle cut the night. My senses caught a shadow beyond the camp—a Montala scout, eyes glinting before slipping away. My heart raced. The forest felt heavy. "They've found us," Elara said quietly. Her green eyes burned in the firelight.
The clan froze. Syla's grit, Taryn's strength, and Kael's courage held firm. Rhea's gaze met mine, solid as stone. "Ready the clan," she said. I nodded. My resolve stayed steady. Valerius's trap was closing like Montala's triangles. We'd fight for freedom.
I looked east toward Thornvale. Rebellion burned there. A Montala scout meant an army followed, their brands ready. Our trail was marked. Our time was short. The Blackwood's heart beat strong. Our edge was sharp, but Valerius was coming.