The village was no longer at peace.
Word of the approaching Marleyan soldiers spread like wildfire, filling the air with unease. Conversations that once carried the warmth of everyday life were now tense whispers behind closed doors. Children clung to their parents, sensing the fear that the adults tried—and failed—to hide.
The elders gathered in the central hall, speaking in hushed but urgent tones. Some argued for escape, others for resistance, but none could deny the weight of the decision before them.
Ymir stood outside, away from the growing unrest. She had been through this before. The fear. The desperation. The choices that never truly felt like choices at all.
She leaned against a wooden post, fingers idly brushing the wooden carving at her belt. Her thoughts were a tangled mess, memories from centuries past bleeding into the present.
Beside her, Ember hovered lazily, golden eyes reflecting the dim torchlight. "They don't stand a chance."
Ymir didn't respond.
"They're farmers, craftsmen, traders," Ember continued. "If they try to fight, they'll be slaughtered."
She exhaled through her nose. "I know."
"And if they run, they'll just be chased down."
"I know."
Ember tilted his head. "So? What's your move?"
Ymir turned her gaze toward the horizon. The sky was clear, the stars bright. It was almost cruel how beautiful the night was, as if the world itself was indifferent to the suffering about to unfold.
"I haven't decided yet," she admitted.
Ember smirked. "A first."
She shot him a look, but there was no real heat behind it. Just exhaustion.
She didn't want to run. She didn't want to fight, either.
But this wasn't just about her.
Footsteps approached, hesitant but purposeful. Ymir turned to see Lifa standing a few paces away, her small hands clenched at her sides. The girl's dark eyes searched hers, uncertainty clouding her expression.
"Are you leaving?" Lifa asked.
The words caught Ymir off guard.
She studied the girl, taking in the tension in her shoulders, the way she gripped the hem of her tunic.
She wasn't just afraid of the soldiers. She was afraid that Ymir—this mysterious stranger who had become a fixture in her life, if only briefly—would disappear.
Ymir looked away. "No."
Lifa's fingers twitched. "Promise?"
A foolish thing to ask.
A foolish thing to answer.
"…I promise."
Lifa's face wavered, but she nodded, accepting the words for what they were.
The moment passed in silence, and then the girl hesitated. "The elders are still arguing," she said quietly. "Some want to send scouts to see how close the soldiers are."
Ymir frowned. "That's dangerous."
"I know," Lifa murmured. "But they don't know what else to do."
Ymir glanced toward the gathering hall, the muffled voices still spilling into the night.
If they sent scouts, they might be caught. If they were caught, the soldiers would know the village was aware of them. That would only make things worse.
She let out a slow breath.
"Tell them I'll go."
Lifa's eyes widened. "What?"
"I'll scout ahead," Ymir said, already making her decision. "I can move faster alone."
Lifa hesitated. "You don't have to."
Yes, she did.
Ymir pushed away from the post, brushing past Ember as she started toward the gathering hall.
The arguing voices fell quiet when she entered. The villagers turned to her, their expressions a mixture of relief and suspicion.
"I'll go," she said simply. "I'll find out how close the soldiers are."
The elder studied her, his sharp eyes searching for something in her posture, her words.
He must have found what he was looking for because he nodded. "Be careful."
Ymir didn't waste time. She adjusted her cloak, made sure her knife was secured at her hip—not that it would do much against an army—then stepped back outside.
The village was quiet now, but the weight of its fears lingered in the air.
Ember drifted beside her. "Are you really going to walk into an enemy camp just to confirm what we already know?"
Ymir pulled her hood up. "Yes."
He snorted. "You're getting reckless."
She didn't deny it.
Then, with a final glance at the village behind her, she stepped into the night.
---
The forest was thick, the shadows deep. Ymir moved swiftly but carefully, her steps soundless against the damp earth. The air smelled of pine and distant rain.
She had traveled for nearly an hour when she saw it.
The glow of distant campfires.
She slowed her steps, moving with the precision of a hunter. She climbed a ridge overlooking the clearing below.
Marleyan soldiers. Dozens of them.
Their banners were staked into the dirt, the sigil of Marley catching the firelight.
Ymir's stomach twisted.
This wasn't just a scouting force.
This was an occupation.
Her hands clenched into fists.
She scanned the camp, memorizing its layout. Most of the soldiers were gathered near the fires, speaking in low voices. Supplies were stacked near the center, guarded but not heavily.
Her mind raced. If they were planning to seize the village, it wouldn't be long before they moved. Even if the villagers surrendered, that wouldn't guarantee their safety. Marley wasn't known for mercy.
She had to get back.
She turned to leave—
Snap.
A twig broke beneath her boot.
She froze.
The nearest soldier stiffened. He turned sharply in her direction, squinting into the trees.
"Oi," he called. "Did you hear that?"
Another soldier rose, gripping his rifle. "What?"
"I think something's in the woods."
Ymir cursed under her breath.
She had to move. Now.
She slipped back into the trees, keeping her breath steady.
Behind her, the soldiers were moving.
"Check it out," one ordered.
Footsteps crunched against the underbrush.
Ymir's mind worked quickly. She had two choices—fight or run.
She was fast, but she couldn't outrun bullets. If they saw her, she'd have to—
Then she felt it.
A shift in the air.
A presence.
Not Ember.
Something else.
Something watching.
Her breath caught.
And then, from the depths of the forest, a low growl rumbled through the night.
The soldiers froze.
Ymir's eyes widened.
That wasn't a wild animal.
It was something else.
And it was close.
The hunt had begun.