The twilight forest of Kael'Thar shimmered with unseen breath. Trees rose like cathedral spires, their trunks etched with living runes, their roots pulsing faintly with magic. The canopy high above glowed with the last embers of sunset as creatures chirped and whispered through the branches.
Kaelien moved like smoke through the trees.
His footsteps made no sound as he stepped over moss and stone, his emerald cloak blending into the shadows. In one hand, he carried a bow carved from Silverwood, strung with thread from a nightspider's web. At his belt hung twin daggers, and beneath his skin pulsed the quiet rhythm of spellcraft.
Kaelien was a Flamewalker—a scout-mage trained in the forest paths and arcane arts of Kael'Thar. His magic was subtle. No fireballs or blasts. He channeled heat to blur his form, masked his scent with smoke, sharpened his hearing with whispers of wind, strengthen his weapons with flames. His body was a weapon; his soul, an ember.
He paused beneath an old oak, laying a hand to its bark. The runes there flared softly, and a gentle warmth passed between them.
"Nothing for miles," he murmured, speaking to the tree as if it were kin.
But he didn't trust it.
Kaelien had grown up in the Ashen Glades, where the border skirmishes had claimed his parents. He had learned early that Velmorans did not negotiate. They conquered, or they burned. And while Kaelien honored peace, he trained for war.
He'd led countless scouting runs into the Rift's edge. Marked enemy positions. Silenced sentries. Evaded steel with spell. Yet something about this mission gnawed at him.
"Kaelien," came a voice behind.
He turned. It was Thirel, a younger acolyte—green-robed, wide-eyed, uncertain.
"They say Velmora has sent another patrol into the Shattered Vale."
Kaelien's expression darkened. "Then they've not learned."
Thirel hesitated. "The Flame-Circle believes something sleeps beneath the Rift. Something both sides have stirred."
Kaelien nodded once. "We'll find out what."
He looked westward, toward the edge of the Rift, where the land broke open like a wound.
The trees there did not sing.
Only silence waited.
And Kaelien would walk into it.