At the royal camp beyond the forest’s edge, all was calm, too calm. King Renault sat beneath the royal pavilion, but his gaze never once strayed from the tree line. His jaw was set, fingers tapping once against the arm of his chair in a slow, restless rhythm. Grenier, one of his generals, noticed his unease and approached. “Is something wrong, Majesty?” Renault didn’t answer at first. He continued to watch the unmoving wall of trees. “Should we check on Edmund?” he murmured. Grenier followed his gaze. “It’s still early, sire,” he said gently. “Best we give him more time.” Renault exhaled, a quiet, measured breath. “I know, but something feels… off.”

  “Perhaps it’s simply your fatherly instinct,” Grenier offered with a faint smile. “All parents worry when their children first step out of sight.”

  The forest looked peaceful, the kind that should have been reassuring. It wasn’t. Normally, Renault would have accepted that comfort. But today, the reassurance rang hollow. He had hunted in these woods before. He knew what the forest should sound like once a beast like that was roused. Birds bursting from their nests, hooves pounding through underbrush, the sharp panic of nature reacting to danger. Even when the beast slept, the smaller animals would not dare linger anywhere near its lair, yet nothing moved. No frightened flight of wings, no distant stampede of stags, not even the chatter of squirrels. Even the horses sensed it. They snorted and stamped, circling anxiously in their tethers, ears pricked toward the forest as if expecting something terrible to emerge at any moment. Renault leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing.

  “When the boar charges, the whole wild trembles,” he muttered, more to himself than to Grenier. “So why is everything so quiet?”

  A gust of wind pushed through the camp, rattling canvas and scattering leaves.

  “Grenier,” Renault said suddenly.

  “Yes, Your Majesty?”

  “Tell me, where would the beast lie when it rests?”

  Grenier considered before giving his answer. “Deeper in the forest, no doubt. After its last raid, it would hide, well away from watchful eyes.”

  “Then the smaller creatures should linger near the edge,” Renault pressed. “Stags, foxes, even birds would be avoiding its lair.”

  “In most cases, yes,” Grenier agreed cautiously. “The wildlife would avoid it.”

  Renault’s fingers curled around the hilt at his side. “So then, what drives them away from here?”

  Grenier’s eyes flicked to the trees. He had accompanied Renault on hunts since boyhood. He knew that calmness, the kind that chose its moment. A raven perched at the forest's edge, alone and watching, its eyes black and empty. “Unless,” Grenier whispered, “they’re avoiding us.”

  Renault stood, chair scraping as he rose. His voice turned low and certain. “No. Something else hunts in the woods.”

  He pivoted sharply toward the tents. “Arm the men,” he commanded. “We ride into the forest.”

  And just as Renault had feared, the peace was a lie.

  Edmund’s company trudged back through the forest, weary, battered, but triumphant. After bringing down the great boar, even the sting of thorned vines or the skitter of strange forest pests seemed trivial. Men compared bruises and laughed off close calls with tusks. Matthew lagged a step behind, eyeing Serena as she walked beside Edmund. “Sir… can’t Serena patch us up now?” he asked Conrad. Conrad shook his head. “Best we wait until we reach the camp. We don’t know what else lurks in these woods. Besides, your wounds aren’t that deep.”

  Matthew groaned, clutching his arm. “Feels like my bones are on fire.”

  Lyam snorted, arms folded. “All that shouting earlier and now you whimper over a scratch?”

  “A scratch?” Matthew barked, brandishing the bleeding gouge on his arm. “This is a mark of my manhood.”

  “You mean your carelessness,” Lyam said dryly.

  Their bickering rose, earning a few tired chuckles.

  Edmund drifted nearer to Serena. “Why did you come to watch the fight? If that beast had turned your way…”

  She glanced at him, eyes unwavering. “I just wanted… to make sure… you’d keep… your promise.”

  “Did I keep it?” Edmund asked, a hopeful edge in his voice. “Was that careful enough?”

  Serena shook her head slowly. “Not yet… You still… get too excited…” A tiny smile touched her lips. “but you were… amazing.”

  Warmth flooded through him, steadying his breath. He smiled, small and grateful. Then Serena’s expression changed. Her gaze snapped upward to the boughs above. Branches shifted, but no wind moved. Leaves drifted down in sudden clusters. “Highness,” she whispered. “What is—” Edmund began. “Halt!” Conrad’s order cut like steel. His hand dropped to his sword. “Stay alert.”

  The company froze. Silence pressed in.

  Then—

  Thwack.

  A soldier on Edmund’s right screamed as an arrow punched through his arm. Another struck the man to his left, slamming into his shoulder and spinning him half around. Both staggered, shields coming up in pure panic. “Shields!” Conrad bellowed. “Protect His Highness!”

  The retinue snapped into formation with drilled instinct. Shields locked, spears angled out, Edmund pulled into the heart of the wall. Arrows poured from all sides, steel rained against iron, biting into wood, shaking the line with each brutal impact. Men grunted, cursed, braced, but the wall held. And as suddenly as it began, the storm ceased. Stillness reclaimed the forest. One that throbbed with threat. Slowly, the men lowered their shields with caution. They scanned the area, ready to raise their shields again. But then, shapes emerged from the trees, dozens of them. Masked men, armored in black lamellar, blades drawn. They surrounded the battered circle like wolves that had been waiting for the stag to tire. Conrad stepped forward, sword rasping free. “Who are you?” he demanded, voice low, controlled. “What do you want?”

  A figure broke from the ranks. He raised his sword and pointed directly through the shield wall, right toward Edmund. A voice, cold and raspy, spoke. “His head.”

  In that moment, the forest held its breath.

  Far ahead, the king and his retinue rode hard through the woods, halfway to Edmund’s camp. Despite the dense wall of trees, the riders urged their mounts onward. A pale haze wound between the trees, clinging low to the ground. With every stride, it thickened, curling around hooves like coiling serpents. The air grew heavy, sharp with the scent of damp ash. Time blurred until, at last, they reached Edmund’s camp, or rather, what was left of it. Tents were slashed wide open, canvas hanging like flayed skin. Wagons lay splintered, wheels broken and half-buried in churned mud. Horses sprawled where they had fallen, bodies motionless. “What… what beast could have done this?” one knight whispered, voice cracking. At first glance, it might have seemed the work of something wild, but two signs turned dread to certainty.

  “Majesty!” Grenier shouted, pointing. “The provision tent! It’s on fire!”

  “The horses,” murmured another knight, kneeling beside one. His face paled. “Their throats were cut clean.”

  Renault drew his sword in one fierce motion, the blade catching the firelight. “This is no beast’s work. Forward! My son is in danger!”

  Spurring their mounts, the company charged deeper into the trees, unaware of the battle already raging ahead

  Deeper in the forest, chaos reigned. Steel smashed against steel. Arrows, both iron-tipped and crackling with light, hissed through branches. Blood sprayed across tangled roots. Broken shields and splintered spears littered the ground, turning the path into a battlefield of wreckage. Serena crouched inside the hollow of a tree where Edmund had forced her into hiding. She hid as deeply as she could, her heart hammering. “Prince!” Conrad roared. “We’ll hold them! Take Serena and run!”

  The attackers were merciless. Every strike was a killing stroke. They made no sound, not even when steel found their flesh. Their steps barely disturbed the leaves, as if the ground itself feared to notice them. They were like shadows given life. “Please, Highness!” Conrad barked, blade flashing. Edmund blocked a descending sword, sparks bursting as he twisted and drove his own blade through the enemy. He panted, sweat and blood stinging his eyes. “No! I’m not leaving without you!”

  They were outnumbered and now outpaced. Fulk and Elias staggered, blood seeping through damaged armor. Lyam’s bow arm quivered. Conrad’s stance was iron, but even he faltered under the growing tide. The rest of the men fared no better. The line would break. It was only a matter of time. “Highness, if you don’t—” Conrad began, but a sudden horn blast drowned him out. Then came the shriek, savage and bone-splitting. Branches shattered overhead, and it fell upon them. A nightmare given flesh. Wolf-headed, jaws unnaturally wide, black fur bristling over scaled limbs, a pair of horns curling from its skull. Wings clung tight to its sides, talons digging into the earth. Its whiptail carved the air as crimson eyes blazed with hunger and hate. A creature half the great boar’s size, yet evidently twice its ferocity. For one heartbeat, no one moved. Gualter trembled as he stepped back. “A—a Draemhyr!” he screamed. The name struck the men like a death knell as the monster growled. The word sent terror rippling through them. Creatures of the old ages, rare, but not forgotten. Few had ever faced one and lived.

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  The monster lunged. A blur of claws, and one of Edmund’s men was lifted off his feet, armor torn open as if it were cloth. Blood spattered across bark and leaves as the creature hurled him aside, already reaching for the next prey. “Get the prince out of here!” Conrad roared, blade flashing as he drove back another masked attacker. The Draemhyr’s jaws snapped, catching a soldier mid-turn, driving him into the earth with crushing force. Bones cracked beneath its weight. Edmund’s breath caught. His gaze darted wildly. Assassins to the left, the beast to the right, Serena still hiding. His thoughts scattered, panic flooding every nerve. “I—I don’t—”

  The creature saw that hesitation. It sprang toward him, claw outstretched. Before it could reach him, a figure leapt, throwing himself into the blow. Fulk.

  The monster’s claw punched clean through his breastplate. Air fled his lungs in a broken gasp. His fingers curled toward Edmund. “H-Highness…” Blood ran down his chin. “Run… live…”

  The Draemhyr flung him away. His body slammed into a tree with a brutal crack, sliding motionless to the roots below. “Fulk?” Edmund muttered, his body frozen from shock so deep it stole his breath. Fulk’s body hung in his mind’s eye, suspended in that instant before death. His men saw their prince fall still. Their formation closed tighter, shields slammed together edge-to-edge, steel locking around Edmund like a living wall. The Draemhyr was relentless. Metal screamed, boots dug trenches into the soil, arms shook beneath the weight of a nightmare trying to rip its way through. “Hold!” Conrad snarled through clenched teeth. Claws raked along shields, sparks spitting, the defenders driven inch by inch backward. But then, as he watched his men stand firm against the creature, something inside Edmund snapped. Air rushed back into his lungs. His heart slammed hard enough to hurt. He tightened his grip on the sword until his knuckles burned. Fulk’s last words echoed.

  Run… live…

  “No,” Edmund whispered. “I’m sorry, Fulk.”

  He rose, fire blazing through his chest.

  “But I will never run.”

  His grip tightened, rage steadying his hands as crimson light flickered back to life beneath his skin, thinner now, strained. “I will never leave anyone behind!”

  He shoved past the shields toward the assassins. His blade rose, burning with the last of his strength and will, and Edmund surged forward with a roar that tore from the deepest part of him.

  Rage, grief and defiance all at once. He crashed into the attackers while his men held the Draemhyr. One assassin fell with a cut across the throat. Another’s sword rang against Edmund’s. Then, in a single slash, he was cut open from shoulder to rib. A third stepped forward, only to be driven backward by the sheer intensity of the prince’s charge. Around him, his retainers rallied, their courage rekindled by the flame he lit. Conrad and the vanguard held the Draemhyr as it snarled, bracing against its snapping jaws, spears jabbing whenever the monster lunged too close. “You’re not breaking through, monster!” Conrad shouted. Edmund and his retainers fought on even as they were overwhelmed.

  Shields splintered under the relentless assault, men fell, steel clattered. The assassins pressed from every angle, quiet and merciless. Edmund’s blade was everywhere at once, carving arcs of crimson. But every swing grew slower. Every breath harsher. Blood streaked his face and shallow cuts burned along his arms. He would not stop. He couldn’t. But the strength that brought down the great boar was draining, drop by drop. Meanwhile, in her hollow tree, Serena trembled so hard she thought her bones would break. She peeked out, just in time to see Gualter stumbling toward her. His face was smeared red, a fresh gash splitting his brow. “Run, Serena!” he barked, just before an assassin lunged from behind. Steel scraped sparks as Gualter whirled, catching the rapier with a shaky parry. “Go!” he roared, teeth bared against the weight driving him down. “Run!”

  Serena stood frozen. Her gaze flicked over the slaughter. The bodies of men who had laughed moments ago, now motionless on the ground. Conrad bled as he fought the Draemhyr.

  Edmund staggered, his sword wavering.

  The prince.

  Every instinct screamed at her to hide, but another voice, quiet and fierce, rose inside her chest. She watched as Edmund faltered. His knee struck the ground, chest heaving, his sword plunging into the soil, his hands locked around its hilt. Serena gasped. Before she realized it, she had moved. She seized a fallen sword from the ground and ran toward him. “Don’t!” Gualter’s cry cracked behind her, raw with despair. Serena ignored his scream. She slipped behind an assassin who was about to strike Edmund, driving the blade into the assailant’s shoulder. He reeled, stumbling. “Serena!” Edmund gasped, eyes wide with horror. Her small hands clutched the hilt, knuckles bone white. The assassin recovered and backhanded her. Her body hit the ground hard. Air fled her lungs in a single, painful gasp. “How dare you!” Edmund roared as he saw her hurt, bursting into fury. Before the man could even turn back, Edmund’s sword carved through his spine, a single furious stroke ending him where he stood. He ran toward Serena, but a whip-like tail smashed into his side and sent him skidding through the dirt.

  The Draemhyr had broken through. Edmund coughed, forcing himself up. The monster advanced, breath steaming, claws preparing for the final strike. Edmund’s remaining men were cornered by the assassins, unable to help him. The prince’s sword trembled in his hand, but he still raised it. “Come then!” he roared, voice cracking but unbroken. Meanwhile, Serena pushed up, arms shaking, blood on her lip. She saw the claw lift, about to descend on Edmund. Her body screamed stay down. Her heart screamed move, then, something awoke within her. Her veins glowed faintly beneath her skin, light pulsing like a second heartbeat. Her golden eyes flared with power she had never called upon before.

  “NO!” she screamed, voice breaking. She thrust out her hands. A surge of energy erupted, not a fire or lightning spell, but a raw force of golden light, blasting into the Draemhyr’s flank. The monster flew, smashing into a tree so hard bark exploded outward. Silence followed. The forest itself seemed stunned. Edmund stared, awe and bewilderment in equal measure. The last standing men gaped, unable to comprehend what they had just witnessed. Everyone looked at the girl, at the power burning beneath her skin and the golden light still flickering in her eyes. “What… what was that?” Edmund breathed, voice barely his own. For a heartbeat, even the assassins hesitated. Then, for the first time all fight long, they screamed. A pack of shadows charging from every side.

  Serena spun toward them, arms shaking, yet the air around her blazed. She raised her trembling hands. Bursts of light erupted. Armored men were hurled back like dolls, sparks danced across their armor where light had scorched metal, yet still they charged. A flash of gold hurled them away, smoke curling from shattered plates. The survivors did not try again. They stumbled back into the trees, retreating into the woods rather than face the girl. Meanwhile, a low growl rumbled behind them. The Draemhyr rose, eyes seething with rage. Branches fell from its back as it straightened, one wing torn, yet its jaws still parted in bloodlust. Crimson eyes locked on Serena. She staggered, light flickering erratically in her veins. She set her feet, though every muscle begged her to fall. Her breath came in sharp, breaking bursts, palms still glowing bright. She caught it by surprise earlier, but not this time. To stand before it now was suicide. And yet… she did.

  The Draemhyr was about to lunge at her when a bolt of lightning screamed down from the canopy and slammed into its flank, igniting the world white. The beast howled, fur and scales crackling as it staggered. The king had arrived. Renault’s mage stepped forward, lightning flickering around his hands. The king’s retinue gave the creature no chance to recover. Hooves thundered. Renault rode straight through the haze, his blade blazing with crimson light. He leapt from the saddle at the last instant, steel blazing in both hands. The king struck in a sweeping arc, a crescent of white force erupting from the blade. The shockwave hurled the Draemhyr backward, wings snapping tight as it smashed into the ground. Arrows of light followed, bolts of crackling lightning, a relentless storm from the royal mage and the king’s archers. Renault’s retainers pressed on, driving the monster back. Edmund and his battered escort could only stare. Overwhelmed at last, the monster turned and bolted into the woods. Several knights surged forward to give chase.

  “Hold!” Renault’s voice cut through the din. “Do not pursue. If there are more of its kind, we’d be running into a slaughter.”

  Calm returned, if only for a moment. Serena reached for Edmund, took one step, and collapsed.

  “Serena!” Edmund caught her before she hit the ground. He gathered her close, blood forgotten, fear sharpening in his eyes. He knelt in the wreckage, holding the girl who had saved them. “Serena, are you all right?”

  Her eyelids fluttered, voice barely a breath. “Are… the enemies… gone? Are you… safe?”

  “Yes,” he whispered, clutching her hand. “They’re gone. We’re safe now, because of you.”

  Her lips curved faintly. “I’m… glad you’re… safe.”

  Her eyes fluttered shut, and her body went limp in his arms.

  “Serena! Open your eyes!” Edmund’s voice cracked through the clearing, raw and terrified.

  He looked around. The men who had sworn to protect him now groaning or silent on the ground. “Help! Father!” he shouted, louder, desperate. “Please!”

  At last, the king turned fully toward him and saw the ruin. Bodies littered the ground, dead and wounded alike. And there, bruised and trembling, his son knelt in the dirt, cradling the unconscious girl who had saved them all. “Edmund!” Renault’s heart lurched as he rushed to his son’s side. Edmund’s words tangled in his throat. “Serena, Conrad, the men…”

  Renault knelt, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. “We’ll help them,” he said, voice firm despite the horror around him. “We’re here now.”

  “Men! Get the wounded on horseback!” The king’s command thundered through the clearing.

  Those still breathing were lifted with care. Those who did not were laid aside. “Father,” Edmund whispered, watching a familiar face lie motionless among the roots. “We can’t—we can’t leave them.”

  Renault met his eyes, tired and grieving, yet resolute. “We will return for them, my son,” he said quietly. “I swear it. For now, we must tend to the wounded.”

  Edmund hesitated, then nodded, though his chest tightened at the thought of leaving his fallen men behind. Renault lifted him onto his own horse. Serena lay against Edmund, secured gently in his arms. They rode out from the darkness, but the darkness rode with them. Edmund stared at the girl’s blood-streaked cheek, then at the shadows they left behind.

  I was meant to lead them,

  To keep them alive.

  Did I fail them?

  Renault saw the tears gathering in his son’s eyes. The king clasped Edmund’s wrist, firm and grounding. “It is all right, son,” he murmured. “Do not blame yourself. None of this was your fault.”

  Edmund lowered his gaze, silence thick around him as their horses carried them onward. He didn’t say it out loud, nor gave it further thought, but somewhere in that silence, he understood. This hunt, this tragedy, was not the end.

  It was the beginning of everything.