Ace’s POV
The Apple Forest faded behind us as the wagon rolled forward, giving way to an endless sea of erald fields. The land stretched out in vibrant waves, swaying gently under the caress of the wind. A narrow dirt road carved its way through the greenery, leading toward distant mountains—towering sentinels with peaks so high they vanished into the clouds.
I stole a glance at Ovelia. Her lips were parted slightly, her wide eyes drinking in the landscape with unguarded wonder. The golden sunlight caught in her hair, turning the strands to shimring halo.
"We’re almost at Thunoa Village," I said, keeping my voice light, though my wolf stirred restlessly beneath my skin.
"Really, Ace?" She turned to , her excitent bubbling over like a spring. "But do humans and werewolves really live together in Thunoa?" Her fingers clutched the edge of the wagon, knuckles whitening with anticipation.
I couldn’t help the grin that tugged at my lips. "Originally, it was a human settlent. But now? Werewolves walk its streets just as freely. They’ve learned to coexist—peacefully, for the most part."
Ray, who had been silently scanning the road ahead, finally spoke. His voice was low, thoughtful. "Thunoa’s small. Technically under the Athyst Kingdom’s rule, given its human roots. What’s strange is that the kingdom hasn’t lifted a finger to stop the bandits terrorizing it." His fingers flexed against the reins, betraying his irritation.
Ovelia’s brow furrowed. "Do they use carrier pigeons to send word to the kingdom? What if the ssages never make it?"
The question hit like a spark to dry tinder. Ray’s head snapped toward her, his orange eyes sharpening. "You might be onto sothing, Ovelia. Even if they don’t use pigeons—what if the bandits ambush the ssengers? Human or werewolf."
A cold certainty settled in my gut. She’s right.
"You’re amazing, Lady Ovelia!" Ann burst out, her usual composure crumbling into sheer admiration.
Ovelia ducked her head, a blush creeping up her neck. "It’s nothing, really. I just... read sothing like that in a book once."
The warmth in her smile was contagious. For a mont, the tension lted away, and even Ray’s shoulders relaxed.
But reality ca crashing back. "Still," I said, rubbing my temple, "we’ve got no proof. And that letter we got last night—why would the Crimsonheart Kingdom send backup here? It doesn’t add up."
Ray’s jaw tightened. "Could be a trap. We’ve got no idea what’s waiting in Thunoa. Stay sharp." His voice left no room for argunt.
We all nodded, the weight of his warning pressing down on us.
Then—
"Everyone, look! I can see the village!" Ovelia’s voice rang out, bright as a bell.
In the distance, nestled between the rolling fields, Thunoa’s thatched roofs and wooden fences ca into view. The sun hung low, painting the village in hues of amber and gold.
"Finally," Ray exhaled, his relief palpable. "Made it before sunset."
Ann smiled softly beside him, her quiet optimism a balm to the unease coiling in my chest.
"Before we arrive," I said, voice dropping into seriousness, "rember—only the chief knows we’re coming, and he doesn’t know who we are. So no real nas. Ray is ’R.’ I’m ’A.’ And Ovelia?" I t her gaze. "You’re ’Lia’ here."
Ovelia, Ann and Ray nodded, their expressions solemn.
But as the wagon rolled into the village, my wolf snarled inside . Every instinct scread that sothing was wrong. The air slled too still. Too quiet.
Ovelia’s POV
Thunoa Village was larger than Timberline but nowhere near as lively as adowlark. Stalls lined the dirt paths, selling vegetables, fruits, and cured ats. Yet the square was eerily empty—only a handful of villagers hurried past, their eyes downcast.
"It seems... ordinary," I murmured, though the words tasted hollow.
"It feels safe," Ann admitted, but her hand hovered near the dagger hidden beneath her cloak. "Almost too safe."
Ray’s growl was barely audible. "Don’t let your guard down."
Then—
"I can sense mana from soone—but it’s gone instantly. Don’t wander off. It might be friend or foe." Lady Firera’s voice echoed in my mind, sharp as a blade.
My breath hitched. I wanted to tell Ace, but how would I explain how I knew? Teeth gritted, I swallowed the warning.
"Ray," Ace said abruptly, his voice like gravel. "To the chief’s house. Now."
"On it! But start, Ace—practice calling ’R’ already," Ray shot back, though his attempt at levity fell flat.
Ace sighed, rubbing his temples as if warding off a headache.
The chief’s house stood at the village’s heart, a sturdy wooden structure with smoke curling from its chimney. As we dismounted, Ace’s posture was rigid, his knuckles white where they gripped his sword hilt.
Then his gaze found mine. "Are you okay, Ovelia?" The intensity in his eyes made my pulse stutter.
"Ah—yes! I’m fine," I lied, forcing a smile. But the unease in my chest refused to settle.
•Village Chief’s House•
Ace’s POV
The wooden door groaned as my knuckles rapped against its weathered surface. Before the echo of my knock could fade, it swung inward to reveal Chief Gareth - a mountain of a man whose broad shoulders nearly filled the doorway. His beard frad a face carved by years of hard decisions, and his piercing hazel eyes studied us with the intensity of a hawk surveying prey.
"Oh, rchants!" His voice bood through the entryway, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. "What brings you to our village?" He leaned against the doorfra, his massive arms crossed. "If you’re planning to venture north from here, I’d advise against it." His voice dropped to a gravelly whisper. "There are bandits lurking about these days."
The warning hung in the air between us, as ominous as a stormcloud.
Ray stepped forward, his usual playful deanor replaced by solemn intensity. "Chief Gareth," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper yet carrying undeniable authority, "We’re from the Silverhowl Kingdom. King Raymond sent us to deal with your bandit problem."
The chief’s bushy eyebrows shot upward. "A rchant sent by the kingdom? But..." He shook his head, the silver streaks in his hair catching the afternoon light. "Never mind." With a gesture that was both weary and welcoming, he ushered us inside.
The chief’s house slled of cedar smoke and dried herbs. Sunlight filtered through lace curtains, casting delicate patterns across the worn oak floorboards. A woman with kind eyes and flour-dusted hands - undoubtedly the chief’s wife - moved with quiet efficiency, setting out steaming cups of chamomile tea that perfud the air with its floral scent.
"Thank you," I said, accepting the warm cup between my palms. The heat seeped into my fingers as I offered the woman a grateful smile, touched by this simple kindness.
Chief Gareth sank into his chair with a sigh that seed to co from his very bones. "Why did it take you so long to arrive?" The words burst from him like water through a cracked dam. "I sent letters to the Athyst Kingdom a month ago - nothing! Two weeks ago, we begged the Silverhowl Kingdom for help - silence!" His massive hands clenched into fists on the tabletop, the knuckles whitening. "People are dying out there! I sent our own guards - human and werewolf both - to track those monsters..." His voice broke, and for a terrible mont, I thought this formidable man might weep. "They never ca back. We don’t even have bodies to bury."
His words struck like a physical blow. My teacup clattered against its saucer as I shot to my feet. "Chief, we never received any letter two weeks ago!" The frustration boiled up in my chest, hot and bitter. "For seven days now, our kingdom’s supply lines have been disrupted - food and materials for the lantern festival arriving late or not at all! We’ve barely slept trying to solve this!"
Ray’s hand landed on my shoulder, his grip firm and grounding. "Easy," he murmured, his orange eyes steady. "Anger won’t help us now."
I drew a shuddering breath, forcing my racing heart to slow. When I t Chief Gareth’s gaze again, I found only blank confusion staring back at . My words might as well have been spoken in another language for all the understanding they elicited. The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on.
"Listen," I said, struggling to keep my voice asured. "For three days, we had royal guards scouting every trade route. They found no bandits - but we learned the Wildfire Kingdom’s bridge collapsed. rchants would have to detour through..." My eyes flicked to the window, where the village’s vulnerable outskirts were visible. "Through here. With your limited forces, capturing these bandits would be impossible, so we suspected they might be operating near your village."
I reached into my cloak and produced the damning parchnt. "Before coming, we sent a carrier pigeon with notice of our arrival. The reply we received claid you’d already captured several bandits and that minimal backup would be needed." My fingers tightened on the paper. "But if you didn’t send this... then who did?"
The color drained from Chief Gareth’s face. "We’ve received no letters. Captured no bandits."
A chill ran down my spine as I exchanged glances with Ovelia, Ray, and Ann. Their expressions mirrored my own dawning horror. If ssengers were being intercepted, if soone was fabricating correspondence... the implications were more terrifying than any bandit raid.
The tense silence was shattered by the door bursting open with a crash that made us all jump. A man stood panting in the doorway, his face slick with sweat.
"Chief Gareth!" he gasped, bracing himself against the doorfra. "There’s a rchant outside!"
Every instinct in my body scread that whatever ca next would change everything.
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