Eastern Border – Outskirts of Virel
The air was thick with smoke.
Kael crouched behind a snow-covered ridge, eyes locked on the flickering fires ahead. A village or what was left of it lay in ruin. Charred wood. Crushed stones. Blood sprayed like paint across the snow.
Rekkan joined him, breath ragged. “By the stars…”
Bodies. Dozens. Torn, burnt, half-buried in frost. Some still clutched weapons, others lay huddled in what looked like final acts of desperation.
“They didn’t stand a chance,” Kael muttered.
Behind them, Tyron gagged. “What kind of monster does this?”
Kael’s eyes scanned for signs, claw marks, broken spears, scent trails. “Naidaska.”
Rekkan nodded grimly. “Thorne’s moving fast.”
They moved silently through the remnants of the village. The snow was stained pink, melte
