The forest of Rhovan stood silent, but within its heart, the Antlered Host stirred.
What had begun as scattered survivors—hunters, farmers, smiths, and broken souls—had swelled into a force that could no longer hide beneath the trees. Hundreds now marched beneath the stag banner. Camps dotted the clearings, forges glowed in makeshift huts, and the sound of steel clashing against steel filled the air.
For the first time since his childhood in the hollow tree, Cael felt the weight of destiny pressing upon him.
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The Burden of Command
Cael stood upon a rise overlooking the camp, his stag-emblazoned cloak stirring in the winter wind. Mira joined him, her braid falling loose from days of hard training.
“They look to you, Cael,” she said, nodding toward the host below. “Not as the boy yo
