Kellen had always lived on the outskirts—both literally and figuratively. His small hut, tucked away in the dense forest that bordered Ellenshire, was a reflection of the life he had chosen for himself. As a trapper, Kellen spent most of his days alone, setting snares, checking traps, and skinning whatever animals he managed to catch. The village knew him as a quiet, solitary man—harmless, perhaps a bit strange, but reliable in his work.
He wasn't the type to join in the lively gatherings at the village square, nor was he seen at the tavern sharing stories and drinks with the other men. Kellen had long ago accepted his place on the fringes of village life, content with the modest existence he had carved out for himself.
But when the skirmish with Lord Aric's soldiers erupted, Kellen found himself pulled into a world of fear and uncertainty that he was ill-equipped to handle.
The day after the skirmish, Kellen had ventured into the village to sell a few pelts. The square was buzzing with a mixture of excitement and unease. The villagers spoke in hushed tones, recounting the victory over Lord Aric's men, their faces a blend of pride and fear. Kellen, standing at the edge of the crowd, felt a cold sweat trickle down his back.
He had seen what Lord Aric's men could do. He had heard the stories—tales of villages burned to the ground, of men and women slaughtered or taken away as slaves. The idea of Ellenshire defying such a powerful lord filled him with dread. What chance did they have, really, against someone like Aric?
As Kellen listened to the villagers talk of building defenses and preparing for another attack, his anxiety only grew. He couldn't see how they could possibly win. In his mind, every victory they won would only anger Lord Aric more, bringing even greater retribution upon them.
That night, Kellen lay in his small, cramped bed, unable to sleep. His mind raced with dark thoughts. What would happen when Lord Aric's soldiers returned? Would they kill everyone? Would they torture those who resisted? Kellen had no illusions about his ability to fight—he was no warrior. If the soldiers came for him, he knew he wouldn't stand a chance.
It was during one of these sleepless nights that Kellen first heard the knock on his door. He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound, his heart pounding in his chest. It was well past midnight—who would be visiting him at this hour?
When he cautiously opened the door, he found himself face-to-face with a man he didn't recognize. The stranger was tall, with a hood drawn low over his face, but Kellen could see the glint of steel at his side.
"Kellen, isn't it?" the man asked in a low, smooth voice. "We need to talk."
Fear gripped Kellen as he nodded and stepped aside, allowing the man to enter. The stranger's presence filled the small hut, making Kellen feel even more isolated and vulnerable than usual.
The man wasted no time. "I work for Captain Lucan. I'm sure you've heard of him."
Kellen swallowed hard. Of course he had heard of Lucan—the captain of Lord Aric's soldiers, known for his ruthlessness and skill in battle. Kellen nodded again, his throat too dry to speak.
"My captain has a proposition for you," the man continued, his voice smooth as silk. "You see, we're aware that your village has been… rebellious. Captain Lucan would prefer to handle this matter with as little bloodshed as possible. But to do that, he needs information. And that's where you come in."
Kellen's heart raced as the man explained the plan. It was simple, really. All Kellen had to do was lure Jack, the outsider who had been helping the village, into the woods. Lucan's men would do the rest. In return, Kellen would be rewarded—gold, protection, and most importantly, his life.
"And if I refuse?" Kellen's voice trembled as he finally found the courage to speak.
The man's smile was cold. "I wouldn't recommend that. Captain Lucan doesn't take kindly to refusals. But if you help us, you'll be safe. Isn't that what you want?"
Kellen didn't answer. He didn't need to. The man knew he had already won.
The next few days were a blur for Kellen. He went through the motions, doing his work as usual, but his mind was elsewhere. Every time he saw Jack in the village, a pang of guilt stabbed at his heart. Jack was always polite, always willing to lend a hand or offer advice. But Kellen couldn't shake the image of Jack lying dead in the woods, betrayed by someone he had trusted.
Despite the guilt, Kellen couldn't bring himself to back out. The fear was too strong. He was convinced that if he didn't go through with the plan, Lucan's men would kill him—or worse. The promise of safety and reward was too tempting to resist, and Kellen clung to it like a drowning man clings to a piece of driftwood.
The night before he was supposed to meet Jack, Kellen barely slept. He lay awake, staring at the ceiling, trying to convince himself that he was doing the right thing—or at least, the only thing he could do. He told himself that Jack was an outsider, that he wasn't really one of them. The village would be safer without him. But deep down, Kellen knew these were just lies he told himself to make it easier.
The next morning, Jack rose before dawn, as was his habit. He dressed quickly and stepped out into the cool morning air, his breath misting in the chill. The village was still quiet, with only the soft sounds of early risers beginning their day.
Kellen had approached him the night before, claiming that one of the traps in the woods had been triggered but not set off properly. He had asked for Jack's help, saying it was something he couldn't fix alone. Jack had agreed, though something about the encounter had left him with a nagging sense of unease.
As he walked through the village, Jack couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. Kellen had seemed nervous, more so than usual. Jack had seen fear before—plenty of it—and Kellen had reeked of it last night.
Jack tightened his grip on the small satchel of tools he carried. It wasn't just Kellen's behavior that bothered him; it was the timing. With tensions running high after the skirmish, this was a dangerous time for anything out of the ordinary.
He reached the edge of the village and saw Kellen waiting for him, fidgeting nervously near the tree line. Jack slowed his pace, his instincts screaming at him to be cautious.
"Kellen," Jack greeted, keeping his voice neutral. "Where's the trap?"
Kellen gestured toward the woods, avoiding Jack's eyes. "It's just a bit further in. Not too far."
Jack nodded but didn't move. He studied Kellen for a moment, watching the way the man's hands twitched, the way his eyes darted to the shadows of the trees. Something was definitely wrong.
Jack's mind raced. If this was a trap—and it certainly seemed like one—then someone was waiting for him out there. Lucan's men, perhaps. He had to act quickly.
"Kellen," Jack said softly, stepping closer, "what's going on? Why are you really out here?"
Kellen flinched, his eyes widening in panic. "W-What do you mean? I told you, it's just a trap—"
"No," Jack interrupted, his voice firm. "You're lying. I've seen men lie before, Kellen, and you're terrible at it. Now, tell me what's really going on, before you do something we'll both regret."
Kellen's breath hitched, and for a moment, Jack thought he might bolt. But then, with a choked sob, Kellen crumpled to the ground, burying his face in his hands.
"I'm sorry, Jack," Kellen whispered, his voice trembling. "They… they came to me. Captain Lucan's men. They said if I didn't help them, they'd kill me, or worse. I… I was supposed to lure you out here, so they could capture you."
Jack's jaw tightened, but he forced himself to stay calm. "And where are they now?"
Kellen pointed shakily toward the deeper part of the woods. "They're waiting just beyond the clearing. They said they'd ambush you when we got there."
Jack's mind worked quickly. He had to turn this situation to his advantage. If he could capture Lucan's men instead, it might give him the leverage he needed to negotiate on better terms.
"Kellen," Jack said, his voice steady and commanding, "listen to me. I need you to do exactly as I say, and I might be able to get you out of this mess. You're going to go back to the village and get Elara. Tell her to gather a few trusted villagers and meet me at the clearing. Don't tell anyone else, and don't let on that you're working with me. Understand?"
Kellen nodded frantically, relief and fear warring on his face. "I-I'll do it, Jack. I swear."
Jack watched Kellen stumble back toward the village, then turned his attention to the task at hand. He moved quietly through the trees, taking a roundabout route to approach the clearing from a different angle. As he neared the spot where Kellen had indicated, he slowed, scanning the area carefully.
Sure enough, there were three men hidden among the trees, their armor glinting faintly in the early morning light. They were positioned perfectly for an ambush, just as Kellen had said.
Jack crouched low, his mind racing. He couldn't take them head-on, not without risking his life. But if he could distract them long enough, he might be able to turn the tables.
He picked up a stone from the ground and threw it into the brush on the opposite side of the clearing. The noise drew the attention of Lucan's men, and they shifted, peering into the trees.
Taking advantage of their momentary distraction, Jack crept closer, keeping low and silent. When he was just a few feet away, he drew his knife, moving swiftly and silently. He approached the closest man from behind, clamping a hand over his mouth and dragging him back into the shadows before he could react.
The man struggled, but Jack's grip was firm. With one swift motion, he brought the hilt of his knife down on the back of the man's head, knocking him out cold. He carefully lowered the unconscious soldier to the ground, then turned his attention to the remaining two.
Before he could make his move, he heard a faint rustling behind him—Elara and a few of the villagers had arrived, just as he had instructed Kellen. Jack gave them a quick hand signal, and they moved into position, surrounding the remaining soldiers.
Jack stepped out of the shadows, knife in hand, and called out to the men. "Drop your weapons and surrender, or the next thing you'll see is the edge of this blade."
Startled, the two men spun around, only to find themselves surrounded. With no way out, they hesitated, then slowly lowered their weapons, glancing at each other with fear and uncertainty.
Elara and the villagers quickly moved in, binding the soldiers' hands and ensuring they were securely restrained. Jack approached one of the captured men, his expression grim.
"You're going to deliver a message to Captain Lucan," Jack said, his voice cold and controlled. "Tell him I'm willing to negotiate, but it'll be on my terms. If he tries anything like this again, I won't be so forgiving."
The soldier, clearly rattled, nodded quickly. "I-I'll deliver the message."
Jack stepped back, his mind already working through the next steps. This wasn't over, not by a long shot. But if he could turn Lucan's own men against him, he might just have a chance to negotiate a better deal for the village—and to keep himself alive.
As the morning light began to filter through the trees, Jack and Elara led the captured men back to the village, leaving behind the clearing where the ambush had failed. The battle of wits had begun, and Jack was determined to outmaneuver his enemies at every turn.