Chapter Three - The Watchtower

  The sunlight filtered through the narrow cave entrance, casting a soft glow over the rocky walls. The faint hum of the relics resting in Vecht’s satchel blended with the quiet rustling of the forest outside. Vecht stirred, his back aching slightly from the uneven stone floor, but his mind was sharper than it had been the night before.

  Alura sat by the entrance, her bow across her lap, her eyes scanning the treeline beyond the barricade they had built. She looked calm, as if she hadn’t moved all night. Lucan, however, was sprawled against the wall, one arm thrown dramatically over his face.

  As Vecht stretched and began to rise, Lucan groaned. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

  “Do what?” Vecht asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Starve,” Lucan said, sitting up with exaggerated effort. “We’ve been fighting all day, running around the forest, and what do we get for it? Nothing. Not even a crust of bread.”

  “You’re being dramatic,” Alura said without looking back. “You ate before the exam started.”

  “Barely,” Lucan retorted. “And we can’t fight on empty stomachs. How do you expect me to throw my body into battle with no energy?”

  Vecht sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he exhaled. “He has a point, though. We need to eat if we’re going to keep going.”

  Alura finally turned to face them, her sharp green eyes appraising. “Fine. I can hunt something. A rabbit or two shouldn’t be hard to find.”

  Lucan’s face lit up. “Finally, someone with a plan I can get behind.”

  “Stay here,” Alura said, standing and slinging her bow over her shoulder. “I’ll bring something back. Just don’t wander off.”

  Lucan waved her off, reclining against the cave wall again. “I’m not moving a muscle until food’s in my hands.”

  Vecht gave Alura a small nod as she left. “Be quick. The less time we spend in one place, the better.”

  The forest was alive with the soft sounds of morning: the chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves as a gentle breeze passed through the trees, and the faint scurry of small animals in the underbrush. Alura moved silently, her steps careful and deliberate as she scanned the ground for tracks.

  Her sharp eyes caught what she was looking for—a faint trail of disturbed earth and small paw prints leading toward a patch of dense foliage. She crouched low, her bow already in her hands, and followed the trail slowly.

  As she rounded a cluster of bushes, she spotted it: a rabbit, small and gray, nibbling at a tuft of grass. Its ears twitched, but it hadn’t noticed her yet. Alura drew an arrow from her quiver, its resonance crystal glowing faintly in the filtered sunlight. She nocked it quietly, her movements smooth and practiced.

  She held her breath, drawing the bowstring taut. The rabbit moved slightly, its head turning—but it was too late. Alura loosed the arrow, and it struck true. The animal fell instantly, the light of the resonance crystal flickering before fading.

  She moved quickly, retrieving the rabbit and her arrow. As she stood, she glanced around the forest, her instincts prickling. Something about the stillness felt… off. She scanned the trees, her bow ready, but nothing moved except the swaying branches in the wind.

  Shaking off the unease, she made her way back toward the cave.

  Alura returned to find Lucan tossing small rocks at the cave wall, trying to bounce them into a crack. Vecht was inspecting his sword, running his fingers over the resonance crystal embedded in the hilt. Both of them looked up as she entered.

  “About time,” Lucan said, sitting up eagerly. “What’d you get?”

  “A rabbit,” Alura replied, tossing it to him. “It’s not much, but it’ll do.”

  Lucan caught it and looked at it skeptically. “Not much? This little thing? It’s barely a snack.”

  “Then make it last,” Vecht said, taking the rabbit from him. He began setting up a makeshift fire pit, arranging small stones in a circle and using dried leaves and twigs for kindling. Alura stepped in to help, her hands steady as she struck flint to spark the fire.

  Once the flames began to crackle, they skinned and cleaned the rabbit quickly. The smell of roasting meat filled the cave, making Lucan’s stomach growl audibly.

  “This is torture,” Lucan muttered, staring at the cooking rabbit like it might disappear. “I’m dying.”

  “You’ll live,” Alura said dryly, turning the spit to cook the meat evenly.

  When the rabbit was finally ready, they divided it into three portions. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to take the edge off their hunger. Lucan devoured his portion in seconds, while Vecht and Alura ate more slowly, their focus already shifting to the day ahead.

  “So, what’s the plan?” Lucan asked, licking his fingers. “We’ve got five relics. Do we keep hunting, or sit back and wait for people to come to us?”

  “Sitting back is suicide,” Vecht said firmly. “The longer we stay in one place, the easier it is for people to track us.”

  “Agreed,” Alura said. “We need to stay mobile. But we also need to be smart about who we target. The groups left standing today will be the strongest. They’ll have formed alliances.”

  Vecht nodded, pulling out the map they’d been given. He traced a finger across it, marking potential points of interest. “We should aim for areas where groups are likely to converge. Chokepoints, water sources, high ground.”

  Lucan leaned over the map, squinting. “What about here?” He pointed to a small symbol near the edge of the forest. “That’s an abandoned watchtower, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” Vecht confirmed. “It’s defensible, and it overlooks the surrounding area. If anyone’s ambitious, they’ll head there to make a stand.”

  Alura frowned slightly. “It’s risky. The tower’s isolated, and there’s only one way in or out. If we’re caught there, we’ll be trapped.”

  “That’s why we don’t stay long,” Vecht said. “We scout it, see if anyone’s there, and if it’s clear, we use it to plan our next move.”

  Lucan nodded. “Sounds good to me. Let’s hope they’ve got more food lying around.”

  The group doused their fire carefully, ensuring no trace of smoke or embers remained before leaving the cave. They moved quietly through the forest, the morning sun casting long shadows through the trees. Vecht led the way, his sword drawn, while Alura kept her bow ready. Lucan brought up the rear, his daggers spinning idly in his hands.

  The journey was uneventful at first, the forest alive with the sounds of birds and rustling leaves. But as they drew closer to the watchtower, the atmosphere began to shift. The air grew heavier, the usual forest noises fading into an eerie silence.

  The abandoned watchtower came into view as they emerged from the forest. Its crumbling stone walls rose above the treetops, vines and moss creeping up its sides. A faint glow pulsed from a relic resting near the top of the tower, barely visible through the broken windows.

  “There’s only one relic,” Alura said, scanning the area. “No sign of a group guarding it.”

  “That doesn’t mean no one’s here,” Vecht said, his eyes narrowing as he studied the surroundings. “They might be using the tower as a trap. It’s defensible, and it forces anyone attacking to funnel through the entrance.”

  Lucan’s grin widened as he rested his hands on his daggers. “Sounds like my kind of challenge. I’ll sneak in, grab the relic, and get out before they even know I’m there.”

  “You’re too reckless,” Alura said, crossing her arms. “If there’s a group inside, they’ll catch you the moment you’re spotted.”

  “Not if I’m quick enough,” Lucan retorted, the glint in his eyes unmistakable. “You’ve seen me move. No one’s catching me unless I want to be caught.”

  “Let him go,” Vecht said, surprising Alura. “If anyone can do it, it’s him. We’ll keep watch out here in case things go south.”

  Lucan gave Vecht a mock bow. “Finally, someone who believes in me. Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you miss me.”

  Vecht’s face remained impassive, but his tone was firm. “Be careful. If you’re caught, there’s nothing we can do to help.”

  Lucan faded into the shadows, his movements swift and silent as he approached the tower.

  The air inside the watchtower was damp and heavy, the faint scent of moss and mildew lingering in the dark, narrow staircase that spiraled upward. Lucan moved with practiced ease, his steps light as he ascended. The glow of the relic grew brighter with each step, drawing him closer to his target.

  He paused near a crumbled section of the staircase, his sharp ears picking up the faint sound of voices above. There were three of them. They sounded relaxed, likely assuming the relic was safe this high up.

  Amateurs, Lucan thought, his fingers brushing the hilts of his daggers.

  Creeping closer, he caught sight of the group. Two sat near the relic, chatting quietly, while the third leaned against the wall, staring out of a broken window. None of them seemed particularly alert.

  Lucan moved into position, his breathing steady. In one swift motion, he darted forward, striking the first student in the side with his dagger. The resonance crystal flared, and the student collapsed with a muffled cry, their body locking up from the energy discharge.

  The second student scrambled to their feet, reaching for their sword, but Lucan was faster. He struck again, landing a clean blow to their ribs. They staggered, the resonance shock rendering them immobile as they fell back against the wall.

  The final student spun around, drawing their blade with a shout. Lucan dodged the first swing, stepping inside their guard and delivering a quick strike to their leg. The student dropped to one knee, their movements slowed by the resonance energy. Lucan finished the job with a well-placed strike to their shoulder, sending them crashing to the ground.

  “Too easy,” Lucan muttered, plucking the relic from its resting place. Its glow illuminated his triumphant grin as he stepped to the nearest window.

  While Lucan scaled the tower, Vecht and Alura remained near the forest’s edge, keeping their focus split between the watchtower and the surrounding trees. The morning sun filtered through the canopy, but the silence felt unnatural, as if the forest itself were holding its breath.

  “It’s too quiet,” Alura murmured, her bow drawn. Her green eyes flicked between the treeline and the watchtower. “Something’s not right.”

  Vecht’s instincts prickled, and before he could respond, a faint rustling came from the left. His head snapped toward the sound, and his hand tightened on the hilt of his sword.

  “Alura, move!” he barked, but his warning came a second too late.

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  Three students burst from the underbrush. The first—a lanky swordsman with wild red hair—charged Vecht, his weapon raised high. The second darted toward Alura, a large burly man wielding an axe that gleamed in their hands. The third lingered in the back, a bow already drawn, their arrow aimed directly at Vecht.

  The red-haired swordsman swung down hard. Vecht raised his sword just in time to block, the clash of their weapons sending a jolt up his arm. The resonance crystals flared on impact, the energy buzzing in the air between them. With a quick twist of his blade, Vecht struck the attacker’s arm. The crystal discharged just enough to make the student’s grip falter, and they stumbled back, clutching their weapon.

  “Alura!” Vecht shouted, turning toward her.

  She had loosed an arrow at the second attacker, the shot glancing off their shoulder but not enough to stop their advance. The axe-wielding student lunged forward and slashed downward, striking Alura in the thigh. The resonance crystal flared, and she gasped as the energy locked her muscles. Her leg buckled, and she fell to the ground, her bow slipping from her hands.

  Vecht’s heart pounded. The third student, the archer, loosed an arrow, and he barely managed to sidestep it, the sharp hum of the projectile grazing past his ear.

  There wasn’t time to fight them all. He needed to get Alura out of there.

  With a sharp swing, Vecht struck the swordsman’s chest, the resonance energy sending them stumbling back just far enough to give him an opening. He darted toward Alura, ignoring the pain in his own legs as he sprinted across the uneven ground. Another arrow flew past him, this one burying itself into a nearby tree.

  Reaching Alura, Vecht dropped to one knee and slid his arm beneath her shoulders. Her face was pale, her breathing unsteady, but her sharp eyes locked on his.

  “Stay still,” he ordered, slipping his other arm beneath her knees. Before she could protest, he lifted her effortlessly off the ground.

  Alura blinked, momentarily startled. Despite the urgency of the moment, a flicker of surprise crossed her face. “You’re—stronger than you look,” she muttered, though her voice was faint.

  “We’re not having this conversation right now,” Vecht said curtly, turning and running toward the nearest cover. The ambushers were shouting behind him, their footsteps closing in.

  His eyes darted frantically across the terrain until he spotted it: a small ditch concealed by a fallen tree and overgrown brush. Without hesitation, he ducked into it, keeping his movements as quiet as possible. He crouched low, pressing Alura against the earth as he positioned himself between her and the attackers. His breathing was ragged, but he forced himself to stay calm.

  The sound of footsteps drew closer. The three attackers were scanning the area, their weapons ready. Vecht could hear the archer muttering something, their voice sharp with frustration.

  “They can’t have gone far,” one of them said.

  “Spread out,” another ordered. “We’ll flush them out.”

  Vecht tightened his grip on his sword, his knuckles whitening. Alura’s head rested against his shoulder, and though her breathing had steadied, her leg remained locked from the resonance strike.

  Their eyes met briefly, the intensity of the moment making words unnecessary. Alura’s expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of trust—something unspoken but solid. Vecht gave a small nod before tearing his gaze away, focusing on the footsteps above.

  From the top of the watchtower, Lucan leaned out of a crumbling window, the relic held high in his hand. Its faint glow illuminated his triumphant grin. “Got it!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the forest. “And you doubted me!”

  The sound made Vecht’s attackers pause, their heads snapping toward the tower.

  Vecht seized the opportunity. Pressing Alura gently against the ground, he leaned out of the ditch just enough to shout, “Lucan! We’ve been ambushed! Alura’s hit!”

  Lucan looked around wildly, clearly unable to see them from his position. “What? Where are you? Did you say ambushed?”

  Vecht gritted his teeth, glancing over the edge of the ditch. One of the attackers, the archer, was still scanning the area. “Keep quiet, Lucan!” he barked, though his voice remained low.

  But Lucan just smiled. “No problem, Vecht!” he shouted back, waving the relic. “I’ll just hide in here all by myself until you come to rescue me!” He disappeared back into the tower, his voice fading as he added mockingly, “I just hope they don’t get here before you!”

  Vecht exhaled sharply, his frustration mounting. The attackers were regrouping, their focus shifting toward the watchtower. Two of them began moving in that direction, leaving only the archer near their location.

  Alura stirred slightly, her voice quiet. “They’ll head for the tower. Lucan… might actually lure them in.”

  Vecht gave a small, humorless chuckle. “He’s reckless, but he’s not wrong. We’ll use this.”

  “Can you fight?” Alura asked, her voice low but steady.

  “I’ll manage,” Vecht replied, glancing at her leg. “You just stay hidden.”

  From the top of the tower, Lucan leaned against the crumbling wall, watching the two attackers climbing the narrow spiral staircase below. The first was a lanky, red-haired swordsman whose oversized blade scraped against the walls with every unsteady step. Behind him followed a burly axeman, his thick arms flexing as he hefted the practice weapon with an air of menace.

  Lucan’s grin widened. This is going to be good.

  He waited until the red-haired swordsman reached the midpoint of the stairs. Then, with deliberate carelessness, Lucan let one of his daggers fall. The metal clanged loudly as it bounced off the stone steps, reverberating through the tower and making both attackers freeze.

  “Careful, Lanky!” Lucan’s voice rang out from above. “You’re shaking the whole tower! Between your noodle arms and that ridiculously oversized sword, I’d be more worried about you falling than fighting.”

  The redhead scowled, his freckled face flushing with frustration. “Why don’t you come down here and say that to my face?” he growled, gripping his sword tightly.

  “Come down there?” Lucan chuckled, stepping out just enough for them to see his silhouette through the broken stone. “And risk catching whatever coordination problem you’ve got? No thanks. You can come to me, big guy—but maybe leave the sword behind before you trip over it.”

  The axeman growled from behind the swordsman. “Keep moving,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly. “I’ll handle this loudmouth when we get to him.”

  “Oh, and you!” Lucan continued, his gaze shifting to the axeman. “Do they just hand out axes to anyone with muscles these days? You look like you could fell a tree, but I bet your swing’s about as slow as one falling.”

  The axeman’s grip on his weapon tightened, his jaw flexing. “When I catch you, I’ll show you just how slow I am.”

  “Big words for a guy who looks like he needs a minute to catch his breath between swings,” Lucan quipped, his daggers spinning in his hands.

  “Shut up and fight!” the swordsman roared, barreling up the final steps. He lunged at Lucan, his blade cutting a wide arc through the air.

  Lucan sidestepped easily, the blade whistling past him. “Swing and a miss!” he teased, darting behind a broken column. The redhead stumbled, trying to recover from the overextension.

  The axeman was more methodical, ascending the stairs steadily and keeping his weapon raised. “Enough games,” he growled, moving to flank Lucan.

  Lucan moved like a shadow, his footsteps silent as he weaved between the stone pillars. The redhead spotted him first and swung again, but Lucan ducked beneath the attack, stepping inside the swordsman’s guard. His dagger struck the student’s ribs with a sharp crack, the resonance crystal flaring brightly. The swordsman gasped as the energy surged through his body, forcing him to drop his weapon.

  “One down,” Lucan said, shoving the swordsman aside. He turned just in time to see the axeman closing the gap.

  The burly fighter swung his axe with a heavy overhand strike, the weapon cleaving the air where Lucan had stood just a second earlier. The stone floor cracked beneath the impact, and Lucan whistled. “Wow, you’re a big fella ain’t ya? But aim? Timing? Speed? Yeah, those need some work.”

  The axeman growled, swinging horizontally this time. Lucan ducked and rolled forward, coming up inside the axeman’s reach. He struck the student’s arm with the pommel of his dagger, the resonance crystal discharging enough energy to weaken his grip.

  The axeman gritted his teeth and raised the axe again, but Lucan was already moving. He struck the student’s leg with a quick jab, forcing him to drop to one knee. The resonance energy locked his muscles, and Lucan finished the fight with a clean strike to his chest, sending him toppling backward.

  From the ditch, Vecht kept his eyes on the ranger pacing near the treeline. The student’s bow was drawn, their sharp gaze darting between the forest and the distant tower. Alura leaned heavily against the base of the tree behind him, her breathing steady despite the immobilizing strike to her leg.

  “They’re too focused,” Vecht muttered. “We’ll need a distraction to throw them off.”

  As if on cue, Lucan’s voice echoed from the top of the watchtower, loud and triumphant. “Vecht! Alura! Seven relics! We’re unstoppable!” His silhouette appeared in a broken window as he waved one of his newly claimed relics for all to see. “I got two more! You’re welcome!”

  The ranger froze, their attention snapping toward the tower. They tilted their head, clearly trying to determine whether Lucan’s shouting was legitimate or a trap.

  Vecht seized the opportunity. He crept out of the ditch, his steps deliberate and silent as he approached the distracted ranger. The underbrush crunched faintly beneath his boots, but the ranger didn’t notice until he was within striking range.

  A sudden motion caught their attention. The ranger’s head whipped around, and their bow snapped up. They loosed an arrow without hesitation, and Vecht ducked instinctively, the projectile whizzing past his ear and embedding itself in a nearby tree.

  The near miss made his pulse quicken, but he didn’t falter. With a quick burst of speed, Vecht closed the gap and swung his sword. The flat of the blade struck the ranger’s arm, the resonance crystal flaring brightly as the impact forced them to drop their bow.

  The ranger staggered back, reaching for a dagger at their hip, but Vecht didn’t give them the chance. His second strike landed cleanly on their chest, the energy surge locking their muscles. The ranger froze, their body crumpling to the ground as they gasped for air.

  Panting, Vecht crouched beside them, his sharp gaze scanning their belongings. His eyes widened slightly when he noticed the faint glow emanating from their satchel. Opening it, he found three relics, each glowing brightly.

  “Three?” Vecht muttered, transferring them to his own bag. “Guess you’ve been busy.”

  He straightened, glancing back toward the ditch. Between Lucan’s two relics from the tower and these three, their total had climbed to ten.

  Vecht returned to the ditch, his sword in hand and his satchel noticeably heavier. Alura leaned against the base of a tree, her sharp green eyes flicking to the bag as he crouched beside her. “What did you find?” she asked, her voice quiet but steady.

  Vecht opened the satchel briefly, revealing the glowing relics. “Three more,” he said. “That makes ten.”

  Alura blinked, her eyebrows raising slightly. “Ten?”

  “Lucan’s two from the tower, plus the five we already had,” Vecht clarified. “And now these three.”

  Alura gave a faint nod, her lips twitching in the barest hint of a smirk. “Not bad.”

  Without wasting another second, Vecht extended his hand to her. “Can you stand?”

  Alura hesitated for only a moment before taking his hand. He pulled her to her feet carefully, supporting her weight as her leg remained stiff from the resonance strike. She leaned against him, her movements slow but deliberate as they moved toward the tower.

  As they reached the edge of the clearing, Vecht called out to Lucan, who was peeking out of a broken window above. “Lucan! We’re regrouping in the tower. Stay ready in case someone else shows up.”

  Lucan exhaled abruptly, his relief clear. “About time! Thought I’d have to fend off the whole forest myself.”

  “Just make sure no one else follows us,” Vecht said, his tone clipped as he helped Alura navigate over the rubble at the base of the structure.

  Lucan saluted lazily, disappearing back into the shadows of the tower. “Already handled two. If there’s more, I’ll make it three.”

  The three of them gathered near a broken window overlooking the forest. The late morning sun cast uneven light across the tower floor, the faint hum of the relics in Vecht’s satchel blending with the distant rustle of the trees. Despite their exhaustion, the atmosphere inside the watchtower felt almost calm—ten relics in their possession gave them a significant edge, but also painted them as a prime target.

  “We’ve got ten relics,” Vecht began, his tone measured. “That’s more than any other group is likely to have. Staying here makes us a sitting target.”

  Lucan leaned casually against the wall, spinning a dagger between his fingers. “So what? Let them come. This tower’s got one way in and a perfect view of the whole area. We could hold it all day.”

  Alura shot him a sharp look, adjusting her position as she leaned against the wall. Her leg had regained some feeling, but the immobilization had left her muscles stiff. “Until two or three groups show up at the same time. Then what? You’re fast, Lucan, but even you can’t outrun a siege.”

  With a smirk tugging at his lips, Lucan responded, “Maybe I don’t want to. Wouldn’t mind a few tough opponents for a change. All this sneaking around feels too easy.”

  Alura raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking slightly. “You’re the only person I’ve met who complains about winning too easily.”

  Lucan spread his hands. “What can I say? The great Lucan Vale thrives on a challenge.”

  Alura snorted softly, catching Vecht’s surprised glance at the uncharacteristic sound. She shook her head, a faint smile lingering. “You’re impossible.”

  “True,” Lucan replied, leaning closer and grinning. “But you have to admit, I back up my talk. And you like having me around, don’t you?”

  Alura gave him a dry look, though her voice held a rare note of amusement. “I’ll admit it: you can fight. And I guess it’s nice not having to carry your weight.”

  Lucan clutched his chest in mock offense. “You wound me, Alura! Here I thought we were bonding.”

  “Try harder,” she replied with a smirk, her tone carrying the faintest edge of playfulness.

  Vecht shook his head, his lips twitching into a rare smile as he looked between the two of them. “Can we focus? We’re not out of this yet.”

  Lucan turned back toward the window, his grin still plastered across his face. “Fine, but when the next group shows up, I’m calling dibs on their leader.”

  “By all means,” Alura said with a faint chuckle. “Maybe they’ll teach you some humility.”

  Lucan opened his mouth for another retort, but the sound of Vecht’s low sigh cut through, followed by a rare, shared laugh among the three of them. For a brief moment, the tension of the exam melted away, replaced by a sense of camaraderie that had been absent before.

  As the laughter between them faded, Vecht straightened and gestured to the map spread across a flat section of stone. “We need to move,” Vecht said, his voice steady. “The longer we stay in one place, the easier it’ll be for someone to find us.”

  Alura pointed to the map, her finger tracing the thin blue line of the river winding through the forest. “The river’s our best bet. It’s a natural chokepoint, and it gives us access to water and food. If we leave now, we can find a safe spot to camp and catch some fish before the sun goes down.”

  Lucan crossed his arms, leaning further against the wall with a faint smirk. “Fine by me. But when we get to this magical river, don’t be surprised if I’m the one catching all the fish.”

  Alura smirked faintly, a rare flicker of amusement crossing her face. “We’ll see about that.”

  Vecht rolled up the map and tucked it into his satchel. “We leave now. The more daylight we have, the better our chances of finding somewhere safe.”

  Lucan straightened, sheathing his daggers. “Lead the way, oh fearless leader.”

  Alura grabbed her bow, testing the string before slinging it over her shoulder. “Stay sharp. If we run into anyone, we hit first and fast.”

  Vecht gave a nod, his jaw set. “Let’s move.”