The Eastern Forest. Night.
The hunters did not sleep.
They stood among the trees like statues, their red eyes fixed on the distant lights of the capital. The forest was quiet around them—no birds, no animals, no wind. The creatures that had once roamed these woods had been killed or driven deeper into the hills. The hunters were alone.
The lead hunter had not moved in hours. Its body was solid, more solid than when it had first come to this world. The vessels were nearby. The artifact was nearby. The one who had closed the portal was not, but his trail remained. Faint. Frayed. Still connected to the void.
"Report," it said.
The second hunter moved to stand beside it. "The vessels are in the guild hall. Ben trains in the yard every morning. Tina stays on the roof. Davin wanders."
"The artifact?"
"In the mages' tower. The woman, Mirena, studies it. She has helpers. They are learning."
The lead hunter's red eyes gleamed. "Learning what?"
"The artifact's structure. Its resonance. They are trying to replicate it."
"Can they?"
The second hunter shook its head. "Not yet. Their spatial magic is crude. They understand the rings—the storage rings—but the artifact is beyond them."
"For now."
"For now."
---
The third hunter returned from scouting.
It moved through the trees like smoke, appearing beside the lead hunter without sound.
"The creatures are spreading," it said. "Their nests are in the hills, the caves, the old mines. They are breeding faster than the guild can kill them."
"The vessels?"
"Not involved. The guild uses adventurers to cull the creatures. The vessels are kept separate. Ben has gone on one hunt. Tina and Davin have not."
The lead hunter nodded slowly. "They don't trust the vessels."
"The guild doesn't trust anyone."
"Good." The lead hunter's voice was cold. "Distrust makes them slow."
---
The hours passed.
The moon crossed the sky. The stars shifted. The city slept.
The hunters watched.
They watched the guild hall, where the vessels slept. Ben's room was on the third floor, his window dark. Tina's room was next to his, her staff propped against the wall. Davin's room was at the end of the hall, his teleportation blessing dormant.
They watched the mages' tower, where the artifact pulsed. The woman, Mirena, worked late, her notes spread across the table, her quill scratching. The old mage, Alistair, had gone home hours ago. She was alone.
They watched the palace, where the King lay dying. The prince had left for the border. The nobles were circling. The kingdom was waiting.
The lead hunter reached out with its senses.
The spatial echoes were faint, but there. The artifact's resonance. The vessels' blessings. The lingering trace of the portal that had opened and closed months ago.
And something else.
A disturbance. Small, brief, near the guild hall.
Not the artifact. Not the vessels.
Someone was experimenting.
---
The lead hunter's eyes narrowed.
"What was that?"
The second hunter moved closer. "I felt it too."
"The guild's mages?"
"Perhaps. Or someone else."
The lead hunter was silent for a moment. "The spatial magic is crude. Unstable. But it's improving."
"The vessels are learning. Adapting."
"They're not the only ones."
The lead hunter looked at the mages' tower. The lights were still on. The woman, Mirena, was still working.
"She's the one," the lead hunter said. "The researcher. The one who studies the artifact."
"She's dangerous."
"She's curious." The lead hunter's voice was cold. "Curiosity leads to mistakes."
---
The third hunter spoke. "Do we intervene?"
The lead hunter shook its head. "Not yet. We watch. We wait. We learn."
"The vessels could leave. The artifact could take them anywhere."
"They're not leaving." The lead hunter's voice was certain. "They're tired. They've been running for years. They want to believe this world is safe."
"And if the mage succeeds? If she learns to replicate the artifact?"
The lead hunter was silent for a moment. "Then we report. Vorlag will decide."
The second hunter shifted. "Vorlag is not here."
"No." The lead hunter looked at the capital. "But he will come."
---
The hunters settled into the trees.
They did not sleep. They did not eat. They simply watched.
The lead hunter reached out with its senses again. The spatial disturbance was gone. The mage had stopped her experiment. The artifact pulsed steadily.
But something else was there.
A thread. Faint, frayed, but still connected. To the void. To Vorlag. To the vessel who had closed the portal.
"He's alive," the lead hunter said.
The second hunter looked at it. "The one who closed the portal?"
"Yes."
"Where is he?"
The lead hunter shook its head. "I cannot follow. The trail is too faint. But he is somewhere in the void. Trapped between worlds."
"Vorlag will want to know."
The lead hunter was silent for a moment. "Vorlag already knows."
---
The hours passed.
The moon set. The sky lightened. The city began to stir.
The hunters faded into the trees, their red eyes dimming, their bodies becoming translucent. They would not be seen. They would not be heard.
But they would be watching.
The lead hunter's voice was barely a whisper.
"Soon," it said.
The wind didn't answer.