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  Knife in the Dark

  The Ashen Woods lay in a thick silence as night descended over the camp. Shadows crept between the twisted trees, their branches clawing at the starless sky. The night air was damp and heavy, each breath laced with the faint, earthy scent of decaying leaves. The darkness pressed in, creating an eerie sense of isolation, but around the small campfire, the atmosphere was warm and alive with the soft crackle of flames and the quiet laughter of companions.

  Alyc leaned back, her gaze flicking between the faces of those gathered, their features illuminated by the flickering firelight. The tension of the day seemed to melt away as Durk and Sace began sharing stories of old battles and close calls, their voices carrying a note of fond nostalgia.

  Durk’s voice rumbled as he chuckled, a rare smile playing on his face. “Sace, you remember that time on the northern border? When we were ambushed by that squad of Rogathian scouts?”

  Sace grinned, his amber eyes glinting with amusement. “How could I forget? You insisted we could handle it without backup, just the two of us. Thought you’d get us both killed for a moment there.”

  Durk shook his head, waving off the remark. “They had us outnumbered, sure, but you were the one who decided to charge in, sword swinging, like some madman. The scouts took one look at you and thought we’d brought a whole squadron with us.”

  The group chuckled, and Sace leaned forward, his expression exaggeratedly serious. “They took one look at my fine figure and thought, ‘There’s a man with enough strength for ten.’” He flexed his arms dramatically, drawing a round of laughter from the group.

  “But it was you who made it look like we had backup,” Sace continued, his grin widening. “After all, once they were rattled, you started yelling orders to imaginary men hiding in the woods, making it sound like we had an army in the trees.”

  Durk chuckled, shaking his head as he poked the fire with a stick, sending sparks flying into the air. “It worked, didn’t it? They panicked, ran straight back to their commander, and left us with barely a scratch.”

  “Left me with a scratch,” Sace corrected, touching a faint scar near his shoulder with a smirk. “You were just lucky they missed you.”

  Alyc and the others laughed, the sound filling the camp with a warmth that eased the lingering chill of the Ashen Woods. For a moment, the shadows seemed to recede, the haunting whispers of the forest silenced by the camaraderie around the fire. Even Alyc felt her worries slip away, caught up in the good natured teasing between her father and his old friend.

  As the laughter faded, Erik Alistar stepped forward, his stern gaze settling over the group. The High General’s presence, commanding and unyielding, shifted the mood, grounding them once more in the reality of where they were.

  “Listen up,” Erik announced, his tone direct. “The Ashen Woods are not like other forests. Danger here doesn’t sleep. We need to be vigilant tonight.” He turned to Durk. “I want one of your men watching the southern half of camp. I’ll have one of mine watching the northern side.”

  Durk nodded, already scanning the men for someone to take the post.

  But before he could assign anyone, Sace rose from his seat, brushing his hands against his knees. “I’ll take the watch,” he volunteered, his voice steady. “Doubt I’d get much sleep anyway.” His eyes flicked briefly to Durk, then to Erik, a determined glint in his gaze. “I’ll cover the south. I’ll wake Durk in a few hours to take over.”

  Durk gave him an appraising look, then nodded. “Just don’t fall asleep out there, Sace,” he teased, though there was a hint of seriousness in his tone.

  Sace smirked. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied. He patted Durk’s shoulder as he moved toward the edge of the camp, finding a sturdy tree at the perimeter where he could settle in for his watch. With his back against the rough bark, he looked out into the dense shadows, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, ready for anything that might emerge from the depths of the Ashen Woods.

  Alyc watched him for a moment, her own unease creeping back as she thought about the ominous nature of the forest surrounding them. The darkness seemed deeper here, thicker, as though the shadows themselves were alive, shifting and whispering just out of sight.

  “Get some rest, everyone,” Erik said, his gaze lingering on each member of the group. “We have a long journey ahead, and we’ll need our strength.”

  One by one, the others settled into their bedrolls, the earlier laughter fading into a tense quiet. Alyc lay down, pulling her cloak tighter around herself as she listened to the sounds of the woods, the creak of branches, the rustling of leaves, the occasional distant call of a nightbird. Sace’s figure remained silhouetted against the tree, a lone sentry in the darkness, his posture vigilant.

  Despite her exhaustion, sleep didn’t come easily. The earlier joy of storytelling lingered, but Erik’s warning and the sight of Sace standing watch reminded her of the dangers that surrounded them. As she drifted in and out of restless slumber, Alyc felt a sense of foreboding settle over her, a shadowy hint of the trials that lay ahead. The first faint light of dawn seeped through the twisted branches of the Ashen Woods, casting a pale gray glow over the campsite. The early morning air was cold and still, filled with an uneasy silence that pressed heavily against the trees and the ground blanketed with ash and fallen leaves. The fire had long since died, leaving only faint wisps of smoke curling into the morning air.

  Durk stirred, blinking away sleep as he rubbed a hand over his face. A thought nagged at him as he sat up, realizing with a frown that Sace had never woken him to trade places on watch. Durk shook his head, a small, weary smile tugging at his mouth. “Sace, you lazy fool,” he muttered under his breath, his voice light with amusement.

  Rising, Durk wrapped his cloak around his shoulders and glanced over to the edge of the camp where Sace had taken his post the night before. He saw his friend’s figure slumped against the base of a gnarled tree, seemingly resting, his head bowed.

  “Didn’t even last a few hours,” Durk called out, his voice warm and teasing. He approached with a chuckle, his footsteps crunching softly over the leaves. “Looks like I’ll have to teach you a thing or two about staying awake, old friend.”

  But as he drew closer, his smile faded. Something was wrong. Sace’s posture was too still, too rigid. The usual rise and fall of his chest was absent. A cold feeling clawed its way up Durk’s spine, his instincts prickling with dread. He quickened his pace, his gaze narrowing as he reached out a hand.

  “Sace?” Durk’s voice dropped, strained with concern as he knelt beside his friend. It was then that he saw the dark, wet stain matted against Sace’s neck, the unmistakable line where his throat had been cut. The blood, darkened by the night’s chill, soaked into the fabric of Sace’s cloak, glistening in the weak light of dawn.

  The shock hit Durk like a physical blow, his breath catching as he recoiled. He stared, horrorstricken, at his friend’s lifeless body, his mind struggling to process what lay before him. Sace, his loyal companion, the man who had fought by his side through countless battles, was gone taken in silence while the rest of the camp slept.

  “Gods… no,” Durk choked, his voice barely a whisper. His heart pounded as he struggled to pull himself together. His mind raced with a mix of grief and fury, each emotion colliding within him as the full weight of the loss settled over him.

  A soft sound behind him broke through the fog of his shock. He turned to see Alyc approaching, her face drawn with concern as she took in his reaction. “Dad? What’s wrong?” she asked, worry evident in her voice as she stepped forward, her gaze flickering to Sace’s slumped figure.

  Durk’s hand shot up, his voice sharp and unsteady. “Stay back, Alyc!” He held her gaze, his expression filled with a pain that she had never seen in him before. “Don’t come any closer,” he commanded, his voice laced with both fear and grief.

  The alarm in his tone made Alyc freeze, her heart pounding as she took in the gravity of the moment. She could feel her father’s distress like a physical force, pressing down on her as she watched him, torn between obeying his command and wanting to comfort him.

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  Durk took a breath, his voice hoarse as he called out to the rest of the camp. “Erik! High King!” His voice echoed through the silence of the woods, raw and urgent. He glanced back at Sace, his hands clenched tightly, as if willing himself to hold onto some semblance of control.

  The others arrived quickly, drawn by Durk’s call, their faces shifting from confusion to horror as they took in the scene. Erik’s gaze darkened as he looked at Sace, his sharp eyes narrowing with an intense, unreadable expression. The High King stood beside him, his face grave, his lips pressed into a thin line as he surveyed the group, taking in the sudden shift in their collective mood.

  A tense silence filled the air, a heaviness settling over the group as they each absorbed the reality of what had happened. The Ashen Woods, already a place of shadow and danger, seemed to close in around them, the trees watching in grim silence as they confronted the loss of one of their own.

  One of Erik’s men shifted uneasily, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword as he glanced at his companions, his gaze darting toward the dark line of trees. Alyc could feel the fear building within the group, a shared sense of vulnerability as they realized the danger lurking in the Ashen Woods was closer, and perhaps far more sinister, than they had anticipated.

  Durk’s shoulders slumped as he turned back to Sace’s body, grief etched deep into his face. His hand found its way to his friend’s shoulder, his fingers pressing gently, as though the simple touch could somehow bring him back. The weight of the loss bore down on him, his heart aching as he looked into Sace’s face one last time.

  As the suns rose higher, casting a pale light over the camp, the grim reality of their situation became all too clear.

  The somber group remained gathered around Sace’s body, the quiet broken only by the sounds of the forest stirring with the morning. Erik Alistar stepped forward, his expression hard and calculating as he surveyed the grim scene. His gaze passed over Sace’s lifeless form, and with a cold finality, he turned to the rest of the party, addressing them in a tone that was void of emotion.

  “Sace is dead,” Erik announced, his voice steady but devoid of sympathy. “We’ve lost a man, and this puts us at a disadvantage. We’ll need a replacement to keep our numbers strong. I’ll make the arrangements.”

  A stunned silence followed his words. Alyc glanced at her father, seeing the look of grief etched into his face, only to watch it swiftly darken into something else anger. Durk’s eyes flashed as he took a step forward, his body rigid with barely restrained fury.

  “Is that it, Erik?” Durk’s voice was low but intense, laced with grief and resentment. “Sace was more than just ‘a man.’ He was our friend, a brother in arms. He deserves more respect than a cold announcement and a quick replacement.”

  Erik’s gaze shifted to Durk; his expression unchanging. “We are in the Ashen Woods, Durk,” he replied, his tone cool. “Losing people is a risk we all accepted when we joined this journey. There’s no time to dwell on it. Our priority is reaching Solaria, and we need to stay focused.”

  Durk’s fists clenched at his sides, his grief quickly morphing into a simmering rage. He took another step closer, his voice rising. “Focused? On what, Erik? Filling Sace’s place like he was just some piece on a chessboard? You act as if his life meant nothing, as if he was disposable.”

  Erik’s eyes narrowed, and he let out a short, dismissive chuckle. “Careful, Durk. You know as well as I do that sentimentality has no place in this line of work. Sace knew the risks, just like the rest of us. He’s gone, and we need to keep moving forward. Or would you rather we sit here and mourn until something else picks us off?”

  Durk’s anger flared, and he took another step toward Erik, his hands shaking. “How dare you speak about him like that! He saved lives, fought for this kingdom. And you stand here, treating him like he’s nothing. Like he was just a tool to be used and tossed aside.”

  The tension in the camp was palpable. Alyc, sensing her father’s pain and the intensity of his rage, stepped forward to place a calming hand on his arm, but he barely registered her touch, his focus solely on Erik. The four remaining competitors exchanged uneasy glances, each of them tense, caught between their loyalty to Durk and their respect or fear of Erik’s authority.

  Erik’s lips curled in a faint, mocking smile. “I expected more control from you, Durk. Sace was a fine soldier, but you seem to be forgetting our mission. Your feelings won’t bring him back, and they won’t protect the rest of us from the dangers ahead.”

  At that, Durk lunged, restrained only by Alyc and the others who quickly stepped in, grabbing his arms and holding him back. “You arrogant bastard!” Durk’s voice was thick with fury and grief, each word fueled by years of friendship with Sace. “He was worth ten of you, Erik. He fought for something, stood by his comrades. He wasn’t just a piece on your game board.”

  Erik remained calm, his gaze sharp and condescending. “Are you finished, Durk? Because we don’t have time for theatrics.”

  The words hit Durk like a slap, his breath catching as he struggled against the hands that held him back. Alyc could feel the tension radiating off him, her own heart heavy with the pain of seeing her father so torn. She knew how much Sace had meant to him, how many battles they’d fought side by side. To lose him like this, and to see Erik’s cold indifference was too much.

  Durk’s voice dropped, a hoarse whisper of anger. “You may have authority, Erik, but you’ll never have respect. Not from me. Not from anyone who truly knew Sace.”

  Erik simply shrugged, his expression one of complete detachment. “Respect is a luxury. I’d rather have control. Now, if you’re done, we have work to do. And I’m bringing in someone who understands that.”

  The four competitors released Durk, their faces drawn and uneasy as they glanced between the two men. Erik’s words settled over the group like a cold shadow, leaving a bitter taste in the air. Durk, his face contorted with grief and fury, turned away, his shoulders heavy with the weight of loss and the bitter realization that Erik would never understand the true value of loyalty.

  With a detached calmness that contrasted sharply with the tension in the air, Erik turned to the rest of the group, his tone brisk. “Meet Prigo Crest,” he announced, motioning toward a figure who had just arrived at the camp’s edge. “He’ll be joining us to fill Sace’s place.”

  The man stepped forward, towering and imposing, a confident smirk playing on his lips as he surveyed the gathered group. Prigo Crest was striking, with dark, wavy hair pulled back and a face that held a rough, almost arrogant charm. His green eyes were sharp, calculating as they moved over each person in turn, sizing them up with a look of faint amusement.

  “Quite the welcome,” Prigo drawled, his voice smooth and rich with an underlying hint of smugness. He met Erik’s gaze with a nod, a clear display of loyalty that left no doubt as to where his allegiance lay.

  Durk’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Prigo, his jaw clenched in barely suppressed anger. Prigo’s easy confidence, his casual arrogance, was an insult to Sace’s memory, and the sight of him standing there, filling Sace’s place as though it meant nothing, felt like a betrayal.

  Alyc, standing beside her father, felt her own discomfort rising as Prigo’s gaze landed on her. There was something unsettling in his stare, a confidence that bordered on arrogance, a sense that he already thought himself superior to the others. She couldn’t help but bristle under his scrutiny.

  Prigo took a few steps forward, crossing his arms as he looked at the remaining competitors. “I hope you’re all as capable as Erik says,” he remarked, his tone dripping with a condescending smirk. “It would be a shame if I had to do all the work myself.”

  The group exchanged uneasy glances, clearly unimpressed by Prigo’s attitude. His demeanor was a stark contrast to the camaraderie they had shared with Sace, and Alyc could feel the tension tighten, each of them bristling under Prigo’s dismissive attitude.

  Erik, apparently unfazed by Prigo’s arrogance, simply nodded. “He’s proven himself loyal and effective. That’s all we need right now.”

  The group stood in silence, their grief for Sace fresh in their minds as they tried to process the reality of his replacement. Prigo’s presence, instead of reassuring them, only deepened the sense of loss and unease that had settled over them since the morning.

  With a curt, commanding tone, Erik addressed the group. “We’re moving out. We’ve wasted enough time as it is.” He glanced at Prigo, motioning for him to take his place within the group. Prigo obliged, positioning himself near the front, clearly comfortable in his new role despite the obvious tension.

  The group, a heavy silence hanging over them, began to gather their belongings, each movement weighted with the knowledge that Sace’s place had been filled so swiftly and thoughtlessly. As they prepared to leave, Alyc stole a final, fleeting glance at the spot where Sace had fallen, her heart aching at the thought of continuing without him.

  Prigo, already settling into his new role, looked back with a smirk, his expression one of smug satisfaction. Alyc could feel a quiet resentment building within her as she looked away, her jaw clenched as they began to march onward, Sace’s absence lingering like a shadow over their journey.

  The party moved in a solemn line, winding their way through the twisted paths of the Ashen Woods. The dense canopy above blocked out much of the daylight, leaving only faint streams of light filtering through the gnarled branches. Shadows clung to every surface, and a lingering chill seemed to hang over the group, as if the forest itself mourned the loss of Sace.

  Alyc walked silently beside her father, her mind troubled by the events of the morning. Sace’s absence felt like a gaping wound, his cheerful spirit now replaced by a cold emptiness that settled heavily over them all. His laughter, his warmth, even his sharp wit had once given a strange comfort in these foreboding woods, and without him, their journey felt all the more oppressive. She found herself reflecting on his kindness, on the countless small ways he had lifted the group’s spirits, and how easily he had bridged the gaps between them.

  Glancing up ahead, Alyc saw Erik and Prigo riding side by side. Prigo, his smug confidence almost palpable, seemed to fit effortlessly into the role Erik had set for him. She watched him with growing unease, his presence a constant reminder of the abruptness with which Sace had been replaced. Prigo was sharp, capable, but his arrogance rubbed against the rawness of Sace’s death like salt in a wound. Alyc felt a chill each time his gaze swept over the group, his eyes cold and assessing, as if he were judging each of them by some silent, ruthless standard.

  She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more behind Erik’s cold reaction. Erik had led them with strict discipline, but his dismissiveness after Sace’s death and his casual introduction of Prigo felt like more than just military detachment. Her thoughts swirled with questions. Was there some hidden motive behind Erik’s actions, a reason he showed so little regard for their loss? Or was he simply the kind of man who valued duty above all else, even at the expense of loy