The cold morning dew clung to the leaves as Kael sat in silence near the remnants of last night's fire. The forest, shrouded in a thin mist, seemed endless and indifferent to the struggles of those lost within it. He stared at the embers, his father's sword resting by his side, its blade catching faint glimmers of light. The weight of his mother's loss and the absence of his father bore down on him like an unseen chain.
"Why did it have to be this way?" Kael whispered, his voice almost inaudible. He clenched his fists, then exhaled deeply, his breath fogging in the chill air. "Stop whining… Just focus on surviving."
Dren stirred from his place inside the makeshift shelter. His usually cheerful face had lost its glow. He looked over at Kael but didn't say anything. The tension in the group had grown heavier since their visit to the village.
Lyra was already awake, scouting the nearby area as she often did. She returned, carrying a bundle of sticks and a few small berries she had managed to forage. "Not much out there," she muttered, dropping the bundle near the fire pit. "We'll need to go farther if we want anything substantial."
Kael nodded but didn't respond.
Dren sat up, rubbing his face. "I'll help you gather firewood later, Lyra." His voice was subdued, and Lyra gave him a sidelong glance but didn't press him.
After a silent breakfast of dried rations, the three discussed their next steps.
"We can't just stay here forever," Lyra said, breaking the silence. "We need a better shelter and maybe even some weapons. I saw footprints when I was out earlier. Fresh ones. Could be mercenaries or worse."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "We stay quiet and hidden. We'll move if we have to, but we can't risk being out in the open."
"Easy for you to say," Dren snapped, surprising both Kael and Lyra. "You're good with a sword, but what about the rest of us? What do we do if they find us?"
Kael didn't answer. He stood up abruptly, grabbing the sword and heading toward the treeline. "I'll check the perimeter," he said, his tone cold.
As Kael disappeared into the forest, Dren let out a frustrated sigh. "What's his problem? Acting like he's the only one who's lost something."
Lyra placed a hand on Dren's shoulder. "He's hurting too, Dren. Maybe more than we realize."
---
Kael wandered through the dense woods, his footsteps muffled by the soft ground. The weight of the sword on his back felt heavier than usual, almost as if his father's expectations pressed down on him with every step.
He stopped near a small clearing, his thoughts racing. The image of his mother's lifeless body haunted him, and the memory of his siblings crying at her grave replayed in his mind. He gripped the sword hilt tightly, the leather biting into his palm.
"If they come for us…" Kael muttered to himself, "I won't let it happen again."
He turned back toward the cave, but something caught his eye. On the far edge of the clearing, faint tracks led deeper into the forest. Kael crouched, examining them. Human footprints, several pairs, and they were fresh.
Mercenaries.
---
Back at the cave, Dren and Lyra worked to improve their shelter. Dren had managed to gather enough wood for a sturdier frame, and Lyra was weaving together branches and vines to reinforce the walls. Despite their efforts, an unease lingered between them.
"Do you think Kael will be okay?" Dren asked, breaking the silence.
Lyra paused, then shrugged. "He's tough. But... I don't know if he's handling this the right way. Bottling everything up like that? It's only a matter of time before he snaps."
Dren nodded, his hands busy tying a knot. "I wish he'd talk to us. We're in this together, aren't we?"
Lyra gave him a small smile. "Yeah. We are."
---
Kael returned to the cave just before dusk, his expression grim. "We need to be careful," he said, his voice low. "There are mercenaries nearby. I saw their tracks."
Lyra stiffened. "How close?"
"Too close," Kael replied. He looked at Dren, then at Lyra. "We need to prepare for the worst. If they find us, we fight or we run."
Dren swallowed hard, his earlier frustration replaced by fear. "What if we don't make it?"
Kael's gaze hardened. "We will."
The group spent the evening reinforcing their shelter and making plans in case of an attack. Despite their efforts, a heavy silence hung over them. When the fire died down and the forest fell quiet, Kael sat apart from the others, staring into the darkness.
He thought of his mother, his siblings, and the weight of the sword at his side. A quiet determination settled over him, mingled with a growing sense of dread.
As the others drifted off to sleep, Kael stayed awake, his eyes fixed on the treeline.
If the mercenaries came, he would be ready.