The campfires flickered ominously, casting long, erratic shadows over the forest clearing as Amara's small band of scouts huddled together. The darkness that pressed in around them felt alive, thick with unseen eyes and hidden danger. They had just pulled Kirin back from the edge of death, and though they had escaped the ambush, the sect warriors were closing in fast.
Amara paced back and forth, her heart racing as her eyes darted between the trees. The weight of Kirin's warning still hung heavy in the air. "Someone... told them," Kirin had said, just before he had fallen unconscious. That meant only one thing: there was a traitor among them, and whoever it was had set them up to die.
Gaius crouched beside Kirin, trying to slow the bleeding from his side. "He's barely hanging on, Amara. We need to get him back to the camp before—"
