Chapter 20 – First kill
The forest air clung wet against Kael's skin as the mist thickened. Pale morning light filtered through the tangle of branches above, casting long, dappled shadows over the leaf-matted floor of Moonlace Hollow. No birds called. No insects stirred. Only the hush of wind pressing through trees marked the passing of time.
Joran exhaled as he crouched beside a rock, wiping the sleep from his eyes.
"Any idea what direction that thing scurried off to?"
Kael didn't answer at first. He was already kneeling beside a shallow track in the moss, fingers brushing the damp impressions left behind—three-pronged, splayed wide. Not fresh, but recent enough.
"Downhill," Kael said finally, nodding toward a veil of tangled roots. "Probably toward the springbed."
Joran groaned. "Of course it did. Wet, cold, and covered in mud—just like us."
They moved with slow steps, quiet by habit, trained by necessity. In the distance, a ripple of movement flickered—a blur of pale green sliding beneath fern leaves. A Puffroot Lizard, just as they suspected. Fast, low-tier, and barely worth the effort.
But it was all they had.
No fire. No village. No coin. And until they crossed the southern ridge into tradeable territory, beast cores were the only currency that mattered.
Kael lifted a hand. Threads of moisture pulled from the ground, weaving into a thin strand between his fingers. Hydrothread. He let the water twist and stretch along his palm, thinner than a breath, nearly invisible in the light.
The lizard darted.
Kael snapped his wrist.
The thread lashed out, sharp and silent—but the beast spun mid-step, tail whipping behind it as it vanished into a crawlspace beneath the stones.
"Again?" Joran muttered.
Kael didn't respond. His breathing remained steady, but his eyes narrowed.
They tried again two more times before finally cornering it near a cluster of vines hanging over a shallow drop. Joran used his barrier to wedge the tunnel closed, a curved shield forming like glass between two outcroppings. The lizard panicked, slipping on the moss. Kael struck once—precise, practiced.
The thread sliced clean through the lizard's spine. It dropped, twitching once, then stilled.
Joran approached with a grimace. "No glamour in that."
Kael bent to extract the core, small and dull green—Tier 1, minimal energy. He wiped it clean and turned it over in his palm before handing it to Joran.
"You want it?" Kael asked.
Joran shook his head. "Can't absorb it anyway. You?"
Kael's expression didn't change. "I'll trade it. Breather roots or inkstone."
Joran pocketed it. "If we don't die first."
They kept moving.
The forest thickened as they traveled, shifting from broad-leaved trees to needle-furred pines. The wind no longer blew freely—it spoke, pushing against their cloaks with uneven pulses. Kael noticed it. Every draft, every shift. His senses were sharpening out here. No walls. No ceiling. The wind wasn't just a feeling—it was guiding him.
Still, he kept it quiet.
They passed no roads, no markers, only old tracks from traveling beasts or weathered stone trails long abandoned. By midafternoon, their cloaks were damp again, boots caked in soil. A patch of sunlight broke through the canopy at one point, scattering gold across Kael's cheek. He blinked upward, startled by the warmth.
It didn't last.
By the time they reached the slope overlooking the next hollow, the sun had faded behind clouds again. They made camp beneath an overhang of limestone, dry enough to sleep, if not comfortable.
No fire. Not even a spark.
Kael sat with his knees drawn up, cloak pulled around him like armor. Across the space, Joran cleaned his practice blade with a strip of old cloth.
Neither spoke for a while.
Finally, Kael murmured, "You think the academy's noticed?"
Joran shrugged. "I think the right people noticed. And they're not ringing bells."
Kael nodded slowly, eyes fixed on a single drop of water forming along the overhang. It trembled for a moment—then fell.
"Good."
System Notification
System Update
Location: Wild Region – Eastern Reach
Suppression Crystal: Stable (91%)
Affinity Sync: Wind: 97% / Water: 72% / lightning : 83%
They slept lightly that night.
Every breeze through the trees set Kael's nerves on edge, but the wind wasn't angry. It whispered instead—soft, cyclical, almost lulling.
A storm would come eventually. But not yet.
Not tonight.
And in the quiet between breaths, Kael finally let himself drift to sleep beneath the hollow sky.