The road west of Greyhawk was narrower than Elias expected.
Not in width, but in intent.
It wasn't a road meant for armies or caravans. It was a passage worn down slowly by merchants, scouts, and people who preferred not to be noticed. The stone gave way to packed earth within the first mile, flanked by low hills and sparse trees that bent under a constant, restless wind.
Elias walked in silence.
Arin, for once, matched his pace without filling the air with commentary. The morning was young, the sky still pale, and the town behind them already half-swallowed by distance.
They did not look back.
Greyhawk had been a temporary shelter. Nothing more.
After an hour, Arin finally spoke. "So… this is it."
"Yes."
"No dramatic farewell. No one chasing us down with last-minute regrets."
"That would've been inefficient," Elias said.
Arin snorted. "You really know how to romanticize things."
They continued walking.
The farther they went, the lighter Elias felt—not physically, but mentally. The pressure that had settled over Greyhawk after the attack was gone, replaced by something sharper.
Awareness.
Every sound stood out. The wind through the grass. The crunch of boots. The distant cry of something avian circling above.
His shadow stretched naturally behind him, calmer than it had been in days. Still weak. Still reserved. But no longer recoiling.
Movement suited it.
Arin adjusted the strap of his pack. "We'll hit the river by nightfall if we keep this pace."
"You've walked this route before."
"Once," Arin said. "Didn't like it."
"Why?"
"Too many blind spots. Too quiet." He paused. "Feels like something's always watching."
Elias did not respond.
Because he felt it too.
They stopped near midday to rest. Arin took out rations while Elias scanned the surrounding terrain, committing the contours to memory. A shallow ravine cut through the land nearby. The hills rose gently, offering limited visibility.
Nothing moved.
Too nothing.
Arin noticed his stillness. "You're thinking again."
"Yes."
"That's never a good sign."
Elias crouched and pressed his fingers briefly into the dirt. The earth was undisturbed. No tracks. No residual mana.
Yet the sensation remained.
A distant pressure. Not hostile. Not benign.
Observant.
They resumed walking.
Far away—far beyond the hills, beyond the reach of normal senses—someone else was watching the road.
Not with eyes.
With measures.
A circular chamber, carved from dark stone, hummed faintly with layered formations. Runes pulsed along the walls, each one feeding information into a central array of floating symbols. Light bent unnaturally within the room, never fully illuminating the corners.
Seven figures stood at varying distances from the array.
They did not wear uniforms.
They did not need to.
One of them raised a hand, and the symbols shifted.
"Confirmed," a voice said, neither male nor female. "The anomaly has left Greyhawk."
Another figure leaned forward. "Trajectory?"
"Westward. Toward Stellaris influence."
A low chuckle echoed through the chamber. "Predictable."
The first voice corrected calmly, "Inevitable."
A third figure spoke, tone sharp. "The corruption responded earlier than expected. That was not random."
"No," said another. "It was instinctive."
The symbols shifted again, projecting a faint, distorted image of two figures walking a dirt road.
One was irrelevant.
The other caused the array to flicker.
"…There," one of them murmured. "The resonance spike."
The image trembled briefly, then stabilized.
"A fractured core," someone said. "But the shadow… that's not natural."
"Neither were the Laws," another replied.
Silence followed.
Then the first voice spoke again. "Do not interfere yet. Observation only."
"And if another faction moves first?"
A pause.
"…Then we adapt."
The array dimmed slightly, locking onto the distant thread that marked Elias's path.
Eyes that did not blink continued watching.
By late afternoon, the land began to change.
Trees grew denser. The wind quieted. The road dipped into a shallow forest path where light filtered through unevenly, painting the ground in shifting patterns.
Arin slowed. "This is where I usually hate things."
"Because?"
"Because this is where ambushes feel reasonable."
Elias adjusted his grip on the dagger. "Then stay alert."
They moved carefully.
A rustle echoed to their left.
Arin froze instantly.
Elias raised a hand—not to stop him, but to signal patience.
The rustling grew louder.
A deer burst from the underbrush, eyes wide with panic. It sprinted across the path and vanished.
Arin exhaled. "Great. My heart didn't need that."
Elias watched the direction it had come from.
Animals fled threats before humans sensed them.
"Something else is here," Elias said.
Arin nodded. "I figured."
They continued, spacing out slightly, covering angles without discussion. Their movements were already adapting to one another.
Not trained.
Learned.
A figure emerged ahead on the road.
A man.
Thin. Cloaked. Walking openly, without hurry.
Arin's hand tightened on his sword. "That's… bold."
"Yes."
The man stopped several paces away, lifting his hands slowly.
"Easy," he said. "I'm not looking for trouble."
Elias studied him. No visible weapon. Mana signature weak, but controlled.
"What do you want?" Arin asked.
The man smiled faintly. "Information."
Elias tilted his head slightly. "About?"
"You," the man said, eyes settling on Elias. "Specifically."
Arin stepped half a pace forward. "That's not happening."
The man sighed. "Expected."
His gaze sharpened. "Word travels fast after a town survives something it shouldn't."
Elias remained still. "Who sent you?"
"No one important," the man replied. "I'm just… curious."
Curiosity was rarely harmless.
Elias stepped forward. "Leave."
The man hesitated, eyes flicking briefly to Elias's shadow.
Then he backed away.
"Another time, then," he said, retreating into the trees.
They did not pursue.
Arin waited until the forest was silent again. "You think he was lying?"
"Yes."
"About everything?"
"No," Elias said. "About how alone he was."
They continued walking.
Night fell not long after.
They made camp off the road, concealed between rocks and low brush. Arin set traps out of habit. Elias adjusted the fire to minimal light.
As they ate, Arin glanced at him. "You ever think about where this road actually leads?"
"Stellaris Academy."
"Besides that."
Elias considered. "Power. Answers."
"And after?"
Elias did not answer immediately.
The fire crackled softly.
"…Freedom," he said at last.
Arin nodded slowly. "Yeah. That tracks."
They slept in shifts.
Nothing attacked.
But Elias dreamed anyway.
Not of the bear.
Not of the fog.
He dreamed of watching eyes—countless, distant, measuring—waiting for him to take the next step.
When morning came, his shadow was already awake.
:)