The morning air tasted of iron. The recruits gathered in the courtyard, gear strapped on, blades sharpened. It wasn't drills this time. The Elders stood waiting with grim expressions, their cloaks snapping in the wind.
Elder Hestyr's hawk-like gaze swept over the lines of young faces. "Today you leave the walls," he said. "Today you see why the Order exists."
A murmur went through the crowd. Some shuffled their boots. Some tried to look fearless. Deren leaned close to Kaelen and muttered, "Sounds like a bloody picnic."
"Quiet," hissed Jareth.
Hestyr went on. "You are not marching to glory. You are not marching for crowns or songs. You are going to cull the corruption that bleeds from the woods. Small things. Lesser things. But things that kill villagers all the same."
Elder Alira raised her staff. The silver tip glowed faintly as she spoke. "Do not think 'lesser' means safe. Chaos leaves nothing untouched. Even a wolf turned feral will rend you like parchment."
The silence after was thick.
"Patrol squads have been drawn," Hestyr barked. "You will march under the eye of your instructors, but do not count on them to save you. Hold the line yourselves, or fall."
The recruits began forming groups. Kaelen found himself shoulder-to-shoulder with Deren and Maeve, with Jareth reluctantly nearby. A few others Kaelen recognized by sight but not name filled out their number.
And then she joined them.
The girl carried a bow nearly her height, its curve polished smooth, the string taut as steel. A quiver hung at her hip, arrows fletched with raven feathers. She moved with an easy confidence, chin high, her gaze sweeping the group as though already measuring who would break first.
"Seralyn," she introduced flatly, adjusting her bowstring. "Don't get in my way."
Deren's eyebrows shot up. "Straight to the point. I like her already."
Seralyn ignored him. Her eyes settled on Kaelen. He shifted under her stare.
"You look soft," she said bluntly. "Don't slow us down."
Heat rose to Kaelen's cheeks. "I can hold my own."
"We'll see." She brushed past him and took her place near the front.
Maeve smirked, whispering just loud enough for Kaelen. "She's charming."
"Shut up," Kaelen muttered.
The Elders gave the signal. Gates creaked open, spilling the squads into the wilds beyond.
The forest swallowed them whole.
Trees rose like pillars, their bark dark and twisted in places, claw marks gouged deep. The further they marched, the quieter it became. No birdsong. No rustle of rabbits. Only the crunch of boots on dead leaves and the occasional creak of branches overhead.
"This place is shit," Deren muttered. "Smells like rot."
"Chaos rot," Maeve said grimly. She scraped her boot against a patch of black-veined moss. "See this? That's no natural growth. Taint spreads even where no beast treads."
"Lovely," Jareth grumbled. "Remind me why I didn't stay home and take up farming?"
"Because farmers get eaten first," Seralyn said coldly, scanning the treeline. Her bow was already half-raised.
Kaelen watched her with a mix of wariness and awe. She moved differently from the rest of them—alert, coiled, like every breath was measured. He gripped his practice blade tighter, suddenly aware of his own heartbeat thudding against his ribs.
They didn't have to wait long.
The first howl shattered the silence. It was high, broken, twisted with something not animal at all. Then came the rustle of leaves, the snap of twigs.
"Form up!" their overseer barked. "Shields front, blades ready!"
Kaelen's throat went dry. Shadows darted between the trees.
And then it lunged from the brush.
A wolf, or what had once been one. Its fur was patchy, skin stretched tight over glowing veins. Its eyes burned with a sickly green light, foam hissing between jagged teeth.
"Shit—" Jareth hissed.
The beast slammed into the shield line, claws screeching against metal. Another crashed in from the side. The recruits staggered, some crying out, some raising weapons too slow.
Kaelen's body moved before thought. He shoved forward with his blade, barely catching the snout of the lunging beast. It snarled, snapping inches from his face. His arms shook.
"Kaelen!" Deren roared, swinging his axe down. Steel crunched into the wolf's shoulder. It shrieked and writhed, ichor spraying black across the dirt.
Arrows whistled past. Seralyn loosed one, then another, both sinking clean into a beast's eyes. It collapsed with a choking whimper. She didn't pause, already nocking the next shaft.
"Don't freeze, damn you!" she barked at the recruits who hesitated. "They'll tear you apart!"
The line held unevenly. One boy dropped his shield and bolted, only to be dragged screaming into the undergrowth. Blood spattered the leaves.
"Shit—" Deren snarled. "Kaelen, left!"
Kaelen spun, raising his sword just as a wolf sprang for his throat. He slashed clumsily but true, steel biting deep into its jaw. It yelped, collapsing in a spray of black ichor. His stomach lurched at the smell.
The fight dragged on—snarls, steel, curses, and the thud of arrows. And then, just as suddenly as it began, the clearing went still. The last beast twitched and lay quiet, Seralyn's arrow buried in its skull.
The silence after was deafening.
Kaelen's chest heaved. His arms shook. His blade dripped black.
"By the hells," Jareth muttered, wiping gore from his cheek. "That was no 'lesser' thing."
"They were lesser," Seralyn corrected sharply. "You just don't know what real monsters look like yet."
Deren collapsed onto a stump, gasping laughter. "Well, that was fun. Next time, maybe we hunt rabbits?"
No one laughed.
The overseer strode forward, surveying the carnage. "Two dead," he said coldly. "Four injured. Better than some patrols, worse than others." His eyes cut to the survivors. "Learn this: hesitation kills. Doubt kills. You hold the line, or you are meat."
His gaze lingered on Seralyn. "Your aim saved three today. Well done."
Seralyn only nodded, unsmiling.
Kaelen tightened his grip on his sword, shame prickling in his chest. She hadn't faltered. He had.
Deren clapped his shoulder. "Still breathing, brother. That's a win in my book."
Maeve muttered, brushing ichor from her sleeve. "If the gods watch us, they're laughing."
Seralyn's eyes flicked toward her. "Or they're testing us."
Maeve gave a bitter smile. "Either way, they can keep their tests."
The recruits began dragging the corpses into a pile for burning. The stench of taint filled the clearing. Kaelen stared at the flames as they consumed twisted fur and bone.
He had swung his blade, he had stood his ground. But as the smoke curled into the gray sky, he knew it hadn't been enough.
Seralyn stood apart, bow resting against her shoulder, her gaze fixed on the horizon. She didn't look at him again, but her words earlier echoed in his head.
You look soft. Don't slow us down.
Kaelen clenched his jaw. He wouldn't. Not again.