Absolutely. We keep the slow-burn
Greyfen did not look like a p
That was the first thing Kael noticed as they crested the low hill overlooking the town.
Smoke rose neatly from chimneys. Fields lay intact, fences unbroken. A handful of traders moved along the northroad, carts creaking under sensible loads. From a distance, Greyfen looked like dozens of other border towns—quiet, cautious, and stubborn enough to survive simply by refusing to draw attention.
"That's never a good sign," Nyx said, crouching beside him.
Borin frowned. "You'd rather see ruins?"
"I'd rather see honesty," she replied.
They descended slowly, boots crunching over gravel as the road leveled out. The town gates stood open, but two guards watched them approach with unmistakable tension. Hands hovered near spears. Eyes tracked weapons, not faces.
Kael raised a hand, open-palmed. "Hunters."
The word carried.
One of the guards swallowed. "Registry?"
Kael nodded and produced the parchment. The guard barely glanced at it before waving them through.
Inside, the atmosphere changed.
Conversations faltered. A woman pulled a child closer. A man turned his back deliberately. Greyfen wasn't hostile—but it wasn't relieved either.
Elyra's voice was low. "They don't want us here."
"They asked for help," Borin said.
Nyx shook her head. "They asked for confirmation."
The town square was modest—well-kept, practical. No statues. No banners. Just a well, a notice board, and a hall that doubled as council chamber and storehouse.
The reeve was waiting.
Mayor Luthen Greyfen was a thin man with careful posture and tired eyes. He stood beneath the overhang of the hall, fingers clasped tightly together as if afraid they might shake.
"You're the hunters," he said. Not a question.
Kael inclined his head. "The Grey Hunt."
Luthen flinched slightly at the name. "Of course you are."
Nyx raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong with it?"
"No," Luthen said quickly. "Just… fitting."
He ushered them inside without another word.
The hall smelled of woodsmoke and damp wool. A single lantern hung from the rafters, casting more shadow than light. Luthen gestured for them to sit. No one did.
"You reported a beast sighting," Kael said.
Luthen nodded. "Three nights ago. At first, we thought it was wolves. We've had those before."
"What changed?" Elyra asked.
Luthen's mouth tightened. "Wolves don't stand upright."
Silence followed.
Nyx leaned against a beam. "Start from the beginning."
Luthen exhaled. "A shepherd named Carrow went missing near the north fields. We found his flock scattered. No blood. No body. Just… tracks."
He hesitated.
"They were wrong," he finished.
Borin shifted uncomfortably. "Wrong how?"
"They went into the forest," Luthen said. "Not toward it. Into it. Upright. Heavy."
Kael felt the warmth between his shoulders stir faintly.
Elyra closed her eyes. "That forest hasn't seen beasts in generations."
"Exactly," Luthen said. "Which is why no one wanted to say it out loud."
Nyx pushed off the beam. "Show us."
The forest lay less than half an hour beyond the fields. The path was well-trodden until it wasn't—grass flattened in wide arcs, bark scraped from trees at shoulder height.
Borin crouched, examining the ground. "Too heavy for a wolf. Too uneven for a man."
Nyx knelt beside him. "Clawed. But not clean."
Kael followed the trail deeper.
The woods grew quieter with every step.
Birdsong faded. Insects vanished. Even the wind seemed reluctant to move through the trees.
Elyra whispered, "Something doesn't belong here."
They found Carrow at the edge of a clearing.
What remained of him, anyway.
Borin turned away immediately.
Nyx stared, expression unreadable. "That's not feeding."
Kael studied the scene carefully. The body was broken—but not consumed. Bones crushed. Flesh torn unevenly. It looked… angry.
"This wasn't hunger," Kael said quietly.
Elyra swallowed. "It didn't know where it was."
The warmth flared suddenly—sharp, insistent.
Kael froze.
"It's close," he said.
Nyx's blades slid free. "Moving?"
Kael shook his head slowly. "Watching."
A branch snapped behind them.
The beast stepped into the clearing.
It was smaller than Kael expected. Low-tier, by registry standards—but wrong in ways that made classification feel meaningless. Its limbs were too long. Its posture too upright. Its eyes—too aware.
Borin tightened his grip on the hammer. "That's not from Varkesh."
Elyra whispered, "No."
The beast sniffed the air, confused, agitated. It took a step toward them—then recoiled suddenly, head snapping toward Kael.
The mark burned.
Not pain.
Recognition.
The beast snarled, backing away, claws scraping earth.
"It knows you," Nyx said softly.
Kael raised the bow, breath steady. "So do I."
The fight was brief.
Borin blocked the charge, hammer striking ground instead of flesh, breaking the beast's momentum. Nyx severed tendons with surgical precision. Elyra whispered—not binding, but calming, slowing.
Kael loosed one arrow.
Clean. Merciful.
The beast collapsed, twitching once before going still.
Silence rushed back into the clearing.
Elyra knelt beside the corpse, eyes distant. "It crossed alone."
Nyx frowned. "Which means it wasn't driven."
Borin looked toward the trees. "Which means it chose to come."
Kael lowered the bow slowly.
The warmth between his shoulders faded—unsettled.
Back in Greyfen, the townsfolk watched from a distance as the hunters returned.
The reeve approached cautiously. "Is it—"
"It's dead," Kael said.
Relief rippled—but didn't last.
Nyx added, "It shouldn't have been here."
Luthen's face drained of color. "Then… this isn't over."
Kael met his gaze. "No."
That night, as they camped outside the town walls, Elyra stared into the fire.
"The spirits are afraid," she said.
Nyx sharpened her blades. "Of the beast?"
Elyra shook her head. "Of what let it pass."
Kael stared into the dark forest beyond the flames.
Somewhere far away, beyond maps and lies, something old had noticed the Grey Hunt.
And it had not finished crossing yet.