Zane
I arrive at the training hall tense. Not because I do not want to do this. But because the tracks we found at the border are still in my head. They were fresh. Too fresh. Not an animal. Not a lost patrol. Deliberate movement. Reconnaissance. And if I have learned anything, it is that when Black Rock is watching, it is never by accident. And it is far too easy to guess what they are looking for.
Not what.
Who.
When I step into the open section of the training hall, the first thing I see is not weapons, not the practice ring.
It is the children.
Five of them. Two older boys wrestling in the dust, laughing loudly. A third one swinging a wooden sword far too seriously. The little girl is sitting next to Elariana, explaining some impossible set of rules with great conviction. Her nam
