Raikha sat on the stump, wiping blood from the Verdant Fang. The blade was young, but it would taste war soon.
Beside him, Lara cleaned her Moonpetal Blades. Twelve knives glinted under the morning sun, laid out on cloth like silver petals. She worked fast, silent, eyes alert.
Behind the hut, Gantari stirred a clay pot. The smell of river mushrooms and smoked root filled the air. It felt like a quiet day.
Until the forest screamed. Thudding footsteps. Cracking branches. Desperate voices pushing through the underbrush.
Raikha stood at once. "Someone's coming."
Lara grabbed two knives. Gantari rose, hand on his staff. Then six men burst through the trees—bloodied and staggering. One wore a torn royal sash across his chest. His face was pale. An arrow was lodged in his side.
Raikha stepped forward but stopped when he saw the crest on the prince's belt.
The prince collapsed. "Help us… please."
Arrows flew from the woods. Lara moved first. Steel flashed. Three archers fell before they could reload. Raikha charged the others, the Verdant Fang slicing fast. A blade grazed his arm, but he didn't flinch.
"Protect the prince!" a guard shouted, dragging himself toward cover.
Another arrow flew—Lara ducked and spun, her knife piercing an archer's eye.
One rebel turned to flee. Gantari slammed his staff into the ground. Roots burst from the soil, wrapping the man's legs. He fell, screaming. Silence returned.
The wounded men collapsed near the hut. Gantari rushed to the prince's side. His eyes widened.
"Samayuta…" he whispered. "You're Jayanegara's son."
The prince coughed, weak but conscious. "You know my father?"
Gantari nodded. "Long ago, we stood side by side in the Eastern Siege. We were comrades once."
"I hope you're still an ally," Samayuta said, forcing a smile.
Gantari placed a hand on his chest. "I am. Fate brought you here."
Raikha knelt beside the guards. "What happened?"
"The capital's fallen," one muttered. "Minister Ardaka turned on the king. The palace is under rebel control."
"My father is captured," Samayuta said. "I barely escaped. These men… they protected me. But we're running out of time."
Lara stood nearby, blades still in hand. "Why come here?"
"We didn't know where to go," the prince said. "We were just running. I didn't expect to find anyone here. But now… I ask for your help."
"If you help me," Samayuta continued, "I'll give you land. Coin. Recognition. A place to rebuild what you've lost."
"Prince… you shouldn't make promises so quickly," one guard said, frowning.
"Just trust me," the prince whispered back.
Raikha narrowed his eyes.
Gantari raised a hand. "We talk later. First, rest. I will heal you."
"No time," a guard said, struggling upright. "More rebels are coming. We saw them behind us."
Raikha looked to Lara. She gave a quick nod.
"Then we'll handle it. Just hold your word, Prince," Raikha said. He turned toward the trees. "Lara—take the left. I'll go head-on."
"You two go. I'll stay and heal them," Gantari said, pointing to the prince.
Raikha didn't smile. The Verdant Fang gleamed in the sun.
They moved.
Raikha moved fast, slipping between trees like wind through grass. The forest bent around him, every root and leaf familiar.
Ahead, rebels advanced—seven in total. Their armor was mismatched. Mercenaries. One held a horn. He raised it.
Raikha didn't give him time.
The Verdant Fang flashed. The man's throat opened in silence.
Another rushed in. Raikha ducked low, slid under the man's swing, and cut his leg. He fell screaming. Two more came from the side.
Raikha kicked off a trunk, flipped over them, and struck once—twice. Bodies hit the dirt.
Arrows flew past him. From the left.
Lara.
She moved like a shadow on fire—darting between trees, blades singing. Her knives didn't miss. Every throw was a promise kept.
A rebel tried to flank her. She turned without looking and drove a blade into his chest.
"I got four!" she shouted.
"I got the rest!" Raikha answered.
They regrouped, blood on their clothes, breath tight. But they stood tall. The rebels didn't.
Back at the hut, Gantari worked fast.
Gantari pulled the prince under the hut's awning and knelt. He broke the arrow in Samayuta's side, whispered something under his breath, and placed his palm over the wound. A green glow pulsed through the prince's body.
"Your guards—can they still fight?" Gantari asked.
"Not now," Samayuta groaned. "But they'll live."
"You will too," Gantari said. "But you must rest. Deeply."
The prince gritted his teeth. "There's no time to rest."
"There is. Because Raikha and Lara are out there right now, buying you that time."
One of the guards, his arm wrapped in cloth, looked up. "That boy… is a Langkasuri survivor."
"More than that," Gantari said. "He's the reason this forest is still free."
Samayuta's gaze darkened. "My father mourned Langkasuri when the Kalderans burned it. He wanted to help, but Wanasetra was too close to breaking. He made peace with Kaldera to buy time. Maybe he thought it would protect the city."
Samayuta clenched his jaw. "But it only delayed the fire. The Kalderans aren't attacking yet, no. I think they're watching. Waiting for the rebellion to weaken us. Then they'll strike the ashes."
Samayuta continue, sitting up with effort. "I need to take back the city. Fast. Before Ardaka locks it down completely—or invites Kalderan aid to 'stabilize' the chaos."
"You intend to counterattack?"
"I intend to survive first. Then strike. I have loyalists still inside. If I can reach them…"
"You speak like a king already."
"I don't feel like one."
"You won't have to be one alone," Gantari said, gripping his shoulder. "We're with you. But this road will break bones and test souls."
Samayuta nodded, breathing harder. "Then it's the right one."
The brush rustled.
Raikha and Lara returned, blood on their arms, their blades stained but steady.
"All clear," Raikha said.
"For now," Lara added.
Gantari rose. "Then we plan. The prince has much to tell us. And the rebels will not wait long."