Light filtered through the canopy at strange angles, shadows overlapping where they shouldn't. Birds clung to their branches, motionless. None sang. Even the insects had fallen silent, as if the forest itself were holding its breath.
"Iseeyou'vegottenoffkaelreth'sleash," Rakreim said. His voice carried, low and heavy, pressing against the stillness.
Faelan's jaw tightened. He tried to mask it, but the irritation bled through all the same.
"HowdoyoulikewhatI'vebuilt?" Rakreim's lips curled faintly.
"Everyoneinthatsettlement… handpicked. Placed. Adjusted. Allto create something… appropriatelyjarring."
He continued, almost indulgent now—speaking of it as one might a craft. The selection. The subtle alterations. The small corrections made over time. What worked. What didn't. What could be improved.
It became painfully clear—Rakreim enjoyed this. Not just the result, but the process. The telling of it.
Faelan barely heard half of it.
One thought cut through the rest.
From the moment they found the first carved stone by the river…
They had already been led off course.
His grip tightened.
And something in him burned.
"It'snotquitewhatIwantedyet… butitwillbe." Rakreim's gaze settled on Faelan, noting the tension coiling through him, muscles drawn tight like springs on the verge of snapping.
"Andwhatwasthepointofthis?" Faelan asked, his voice low, controlled.
"Bait."
Rakreim didn't hesitate. A faint smile touched his face. "Itworked… fairlywell."
As if answering him, the trees behind Rakreim shifted—no, parted.
Branches pulled back with a wet creak, revealing what had been hidden within.
Bodies.
Or what was left of them.
Armor, clothing hung in torn pieces. Limbs were no longer where they should be—some twisted into branches, others dangling loosely, as if the tree had grown through them. Blood darkened the bark, thick and dried in places, fresh in others.
It wasn't just a tree.
It was a display.
Ria stood off to the side, watching them—listening, but understanding nothing. The words passed between them like something distant, wrong.
Then the trees parted.
Her breath caught. Her eyes widened as the full horror revealed itself.
"Fae… what's happening?" she asked, cautious, her voice unsteady.
Faelan heard her—but before he could answer—
"Do not speak in my presence."
Rakreim's voice cut through the air—clear now, in a language she understood.
"…you abomination."
The word landed hard.
For the first time, the calm was gone. What remained was something colder—sharper.
Hatred.
Ria froze.
Then her expression twitched—just slightly—before it hardened into something sharper.
"What the hell did you just call me?"
Faelan felt it immediately. A cold chill slid down his spine, slow and deliberate.
Dread.
Not the kind born from fear—
The kind that came just before someone died.
A faint breeze brushed past Faelan—soft, almost gentle.
Then Rakreim was gone.
He reappeared in front of Ria, hand already raised. Her eyes widened.
"I said not to speak."
His arm came down at an angle—fast, precise—
The impact cracked through the jungle.
Rakreim's brow furrowed.
Ria hadn't moved.
She had caught it.
Ria moved instantly.
She shoved his arm aside and struck—
THWACK.
Her kick slammed into his side.
Nothing.
Rakreim didn't shift. Didn't flinch. It was like striking stone.
Ria stepped back at once—no hesitation, no thought. Just instinct.
Distance.
Rakreim didn't move. Not anymore.
Then, slowly, he turned his head toward Faelan. Something like a smile crept across his features—thin, unnatural.
Ria held her stance, still guarded.
Then she felt it.
Pain.
Sharp. Delayed. Crawling through her leg like it didn't belong to her.
Her strike… had hurt her more than it had him.
Rakreim turned back to her.
"Iwonderhowlongyou'lllast."
He stepped forward—not like before.
Slower.
Measured.
Ria moved through the pain as if it didn't exist. Not away—into it. Into him. She surged forward, fast and low, like something snapping back into motion.
At the last second, she launched upward—higher than she should have—her leg arcing toward his head.
Rakreim caught it. Effortless.
His grip tightened.
Then he brought her down.
Hard.
The ground cracked on impact. A sickening crunch followed—bone giving way under the force.
Rakreim's foot came down, aimed to crush her ribs—
Ria rolled just in time.
She tried to rise—
A knee met her face.
THUD.
The world snapped sideways.
But she didn't stop.
Her hand shot out, gripping his thigh—using it, anchoring herself—
Then she drove forward, slamming her head into his face.
Rakreim stepped back. Just a fraction.
It was enough.
Ria steadied herself, blood slipping down her face, her breath uneven.
Fire burned in her eyes.
She was down.
But she wasn't out.