The night air in the Vale was colder than usual. I could feel it biting through my cloak as I sat by the small fire Orrin helped me build. The flames flickered weakly, shadows dancing across the misty clearing. My hands still ached from the silver trial. The burns were deep, but I had survived. Barely.
Orrin sat across from me, silent as always. He had given no praise, only a slow nod when I finished the ancestral oath. That was all. He said the third way was the hardest to survive, but I had done it. I had proved something, maybe to him, maybe to myself.
But tonight felt different.
The forest around us was too quiet. No owls hooted. No crickets sang. Even the wind had stilled. The silence made my skin crawl.
"Something's coming," I said softly.
Orrin didn't look up. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing slow and deep, like he was listening to something I couldn't hear.
Then he opened them.
"Stay near the fire," he said.
