We reached the Hinterlands in two days. Close enough to the border, but a world apart.

  They were as beautiful as they were wild, and as wild as they were dangerous. The trees stretched from towering giants to twisted, knotted tangles. Bushes thick with life clawed at the ground, vines hung like waiting nooses, and the air itself carried the scent of damp earth and unseen movement. Birds called. Animals lurked.

  A natural wonder, they called it.

  That was one way to put it.

  The other way? A hunter’s paradise, a fugitive’s sanctuary, and a poacher’s playground. Two official roads ran through it—one from the north, one from the south—but they were more suggestion than safety. Too many places to hide. Too many places to die.

  The Coldians had tried to tame this land once. They failed.

  The Council refused to allow its destruction. So it remained—untouched. Neutral. Dangerous.

  And then there were the Wood Elves.

  Escaped slaves from the Samurai Empire, now calling themselves Vandor. They were a guild, a tribe, a loose brotherhood of thieves, mercenaries, and freedom fighters. Their war against the Samurai was relentless, their purpose clear—to break chains, free their kind, and burn their old masters from memory. They called the Hinterlands home, somewhere deep, somewhere unknown. They weren’t hostile, not always, but they weren’t friendly either. And here? In their own land? We were nothing but easy targets.

  I had been through these lands before. Never without trouble.

  I recalled one expedition in particular—back when an underground temple was discovered. A remnant from the old gods, a place where Domino himself had once clashed with Shade in battle. A stalemate that had become an alliance, one that shaped history. The temple was long gone now. Time had swallowed it. But we had once stood at its gates.

  That was years ago. This was now.

  I was lost in thought, following Manach blindly, until I realized something.

  The road was gone.

  The trees pressed in tight. The path had vanished beneath our feet, replaced by unbroken forest.

  I grabbed Manach’s shoulder, yanking him back. “Wait. Why are we going this way? Why aren’t we on the road?”

  Manach just grinned. “Come on, all the fun stuff happens off-course.”

  “This isn’t a game,” I said, voice hard.

  Manach sighed theatrically. “Alright, party pooper. Lead the way back.”

  I turned—only to see nothing but trees.

  No path. No markers. Just wilderness, stretching endlessly in every direction.

  I didn’t even know where we came from. Maybe south? Maybe if we kept walking, we’d hit the road.

  Manach saw me scanning the terrain. His grin widened.

  “You were following me,” he chuckled. “Figured you were in on the fun, too.”

  I grumbled something incoherent. A mess of words. A mess of frustration.

  Because I had followed him.

  And now?

  Now we were lost.

  We moved cautiously, boots pressing light against the forest floor. Manach raised a hand—silent signal. Stop.

  I halted, shifting my weight carefully, letting my movements blend into the hush of the wild.

  Then we heard it.

  Rustling. Leaves shifting. Bushes disturbed. The snap of a branch under pressure.

  Could have been wildlife. Could have been something worse.

  We dropped low, sliding into cover, watching.

  A figure stepped into view—a human. Medium build. Weak frame. Wore a tattered, faded robe, gray with age and wear. A staff, almost as tall as he was, balanced in his grip.

  A mage. Had to be.

  No way this guy survived out here on his own otherwise.

  We stayed in the shadows, waiting. Watching.

  Then he spoke.

  “Hail, Coldians.”

  Calm. Boyish voice. No fear. No hesitation.

  Manach moved first, springing from the underbrush with his dagger drawn, blade catching the dappled sunlight.

  I scanned the treeline, checking for an ambush. Nothing. Just the three of us.

  “Wait, I mean no harm,” the man said, hands raised.

  Manach didn’t lower the blade. “What makes you think we don’t?” he hissed.

  “If you did, I’d already be dead,” the mage replied, voice steady. “It was fate that brought us here.”

  “Fate?” I muttered, stepping out of cover.

  Manach shot me a glance. I ignored it. That meant we parley.

  “Yes, fate.” The mage nodded, his expression unreadable. “You must be weary from your journey through these beautiful lands. Please, come with me.”

  He wasn’t begging. Not quite. There was something else in his tone. Not arrogance. Not fear. Certainty.

  Manach sidled up to me, keeping his voice low. “I think this guy’s into us.”

  Always a joker.

  I exhaled, keeping my eyes on the stranger. “I don’t trust him. But we might as well hear him out. Maybe get our bearings.”

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Manach feigned hurt. “You don’t trust my guide?”

  “No.”

  “That breaks my heart.”

  The mage stood still, watching, patient as stone.

  I nudged Manach. “Cut the bullshit. Let’s go. If this goes sideways, I’ll save your ass.”

  Manach smirked. “You? Save me?”

  I started moving. “You forget why you’re still alive.”

  He fell into step beside me, keeping his dagger loose in his grip. “Oh, you mean the seventeen times I’ve saved your life?”

  “I saved your life six times,” I shot back.

  “Seventeen is still bigger than six.” He grinned.

  “Yeah. But out of those seventeen, how many were your fault in the first place?”

  A pause. Then he laughed.

  “Seventeen.”

  We followed the mage into the trees.

  The walk wasn’t long.

  When we reached the camp, I had to admit—I was impressed.

  It was built on high ground, nestled among jagged rocks, with a thick tree line shielding it from view. The clearing itself was near-perfect. No signs of heavy wildlife activity. Dry, grassy ground—not mud. A small pond, fed by an underground stream, shimmered under the fading light.

  As we moved in, the stranger pointed out some rudimentary noise traps strung along the perimeter—simple but effective.

  Smart.

  Then I spotted something even better: an escape route. A narrow path on the far side led to a fallen tree, an easy climb down if things went bad.

  I scanned the camp itself—two tents, a well-maintained fire pit, crates of supplies, food, books, travel gear. Whoever this man was, he wasn’t just surviving out here. He was thriving. He was prepared.

  But there was one problem.

  Two tents.

  And he was alone.

  I narrowed my eyes. “So where’s your companion?”

  The man exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable. “That is why I sought you out.”

  Manach folded his arms. “How did you know to find us? Or even who we are?” He wasn’t buying it. His whole body was tense, fingers twitching near his belt.

  “I prayed,” the man said. “Prayed that fate would save my friend. And in my prayer, two Coldians were revealed to me.”

  Manach blinked. “What?”

  Yeah, I was confused too.

  I stepped forward, my voice turning sharp. “What do you mean, fate? Which god did you pray to? Who told you about us? Stop playing games.”

  The man smiled faintly, shaking his head. “No god. Just fate itself. Destiny. I prayed, and it listened. Something listened. Someone. Somewhere. And it gave me the knowledge of you two.”

  I gestured at Manach. “We could’ve killed you on sight.”

  Manach grinned. “We still could.”

  The man didn’t flinch. “But you won’t.” He stepped toward the fire and motioned for us to sit. “The hour grows dark. Come. Let us eat, and speak as civilized men.”

  He turned toward his tent, giving us a moment to decide.

  I let out a slow breath. My gut was tied in knots. My brain told me this made no sense, but something—something deep—told me it was going to be okay.

  Manach wasn’t convinced. He leaned in. “Koch, I don’t like this. A stranger in the woods, knows too much, says his companion is missing? This could be an ambush.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. But what does your gut tell you?”

  Manach hesitated. “Weirdly enough… that everything’s fine.” He scowled, like he hated admitting it.

  I exhaled. “Either way, if this guy’s up to something, I doubt he or his friend can take us. Mage or not. Let’s hear him out. Maybe he can even help us get to Lampis, seeing as we’re lost.”

  Manach scoffed. “We’re not lost.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? Where are we then?”

  He smirked. “In the Hinterlands.”

  I just stared at him. How the hell are we still alive when I’m the sane one?

  We sat by the fire. Manach kept his dagger on his lap, casual but visible. A warning.

  The man emerged a moment later, carrying a platter.

  I blinked. Food?

  Not just food. A feast.

  Beef. Lamb. Roasted potatoes and tomatoes. Fresh loaves of bread. A white, milky drink with the scent of roses. All of it cooked, prepared—like he knew we were coming.

  I felt a twinge of unease.

  I glanced at Manach.

  He was staring at the food, practically drooling. Whatever tension he’d held before was crumbling fast.

  I smirked. Guess we’re eating, then.

  We dug in. And it was good.

  No, not good. Perfect.

  The kind of meal that shouldn’t exist out here.

  We ate in silence, the stranger joining us, his eyes flicking between us as we chewed.

  Finally, he spoke.

  “I hope this satisfies you. It is all I possess.” His voice was warm, genuine.

  Manach gave a lazy nod, still stuffing his face. That meant I had to talk.

  I wiped my mouth and leaned in. My voice was calm, but firm.

  “The food is great. Thank you. But before we discuss anything serious, I need answers.”

  The man smiled again, gentle, patient.

  “Of course,” he said. “Ask away.”

  The smile was starting to get on my nerves.

  I leaned forward, my voice flat. “What’s your name?”

  It came out more like an interrogation than a question.

  The man didn’t hesitate. “Leon Maldwse.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “A small town called Anthial.” His voice was steady, rehearsed. “It lies in the southeastern lands, near Dharis Port City, on the eastern edge of the Samurai Empire.”

  I knew enough geography to place it. Remote. Far. A long way from here.

  “What brought you all the way out here?”

  “To answer that, I must explain what I am.” He sat straighter. “I was a shepherd once. A simple life. But I had an experience—one that opened my mind. After that, I left everything behind. Became a hermit, a wanderer, devoted to spreading the knowledge my faith has given me.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “A hermit? What faith?”

  “My belief is tied to Destiny itself,” Leon said proudly. “I believe fate is written in every soul. And I can read it—however obscure it may seem.”

  I’d never heard of anything like it. No god. No scripture. Just fate.

  Then something clicked.

  He wasn’t speaking Common.

  He was speaking Reaper Tongue. And he was fluent.

  “How do you know this language?” I pried.

  Leon’s expression softened. “Three things have fascinated me in my travels—magic, languages, and cultures. I sought to learn all I could.” He met my gaze, unwavering. “I believe I can speak any language in existence.”

  Manach kept eating, but I could tell he was listening now.

  “Interesting.” I tapped my fingers on my knee. “So, you’re a mage?”

  Leon nodded. “A little arcane magic. Some healing. Nothing special.”

  I watched his face. No deception.

  “Can you speak Ancient Reaper?”

  He tilted his head. “Yes. I can read it as well. But it is… difficult. Not as fluent as other tongues.”

  I reached into my pack, pulled out a scrap of parchment and charcoal, and started sketching.

  The rune. The one I’d seen near Ruhk.

  I handed it to him. “What does this mean?”

  Leon studied it. His expression darkened.

  “This…” His voice dropped. “This is a rune of mind control. Written in Ancient Reaper. And beneath it… a name. Nacht. It’s inscribed with curse magic.”

  My stomach clenched.

  Ruhk hadn’t just controlled Nacht. He’d enslaved him.

  I turned to Manach.

  He held up a hand. “Hey, I didn’t know. I don’t like it either.” He exhaled. “We’ll deal with it when we get back.” Then he shoved another bite of lamb into his mouth, like it would erase the conversation.

  I turned back to Leon. “That’s all I needed. Now, tell me—can you read my destiny?”

  Leon’s expression lifted, pleased. “Of course.”

  “What do I need to do?”

  “Nothing.” He leaned forward. “Just relax.”

  I did.

  Leon’s voice took on a distant, almost reverent tone.

  “Your fate is woven with indulgence—deliciousness that brings you joy. A body, found in cold, murky waters. Alone. Sad. Yet… still and satisfied.”

  A chill ran through me.

  “What does that mean?”

  Leon shook his head. “I don’t know. Destiny speaks in riddles. Sometimes clear, sometimes not.”

  I considered pressing him, but something told me that was all I was going to get.

  “Hey, do me! Do me next!” Manach grinned.

  Leon turned to him. “Alright. Relax.”

  Manach burped.

  Leon sighed and continued.

  “Your fate is written in blood. A rebellion. A battle for inner peace. Anger entwined with happiness. A fight against the earth itself—one that ends in conclusion.”

  Manach frowned. “What? Whatever. I’m going to sleep.” He stretched out on the ground. “Koch, you take first, second, and third watch. Okay?”

  I kicked him in the back.

  No reaction. Already snoring.

  I sighed.

  I turned back to Leon. “I’ll take watch. You should sleep.”

  Leon shook his head. “I sleep when fate allows it.” He smiled. “Tonight is not that night.”

  “Fine.” I settled in. “Tell me about your companion. Who is he? What happened?”

  Leon’s smile faded.

  “His name is Jorguh Rockcut. A dwarf. My friend and bodyguard. He was kidnapped. The bandits thought he was someone important—a royal, maybe. They took him to a camp a few hours from here.”

  I nodded. “And what do you want from us?”

  “Help me free him.”

  I thought about it. “And what do we get in return?”

  Leon tilted his head. “What do you need?”

  “Do you know how to get to Lampis?”

  His face brightened. “Ah. Of course! I can take you there.”

  “Then we have a deal.” I stood, stretching. “We’ll deal with the bandits. You take us to Lampis.” I slung my gear over my shoulder and smirked. “Now, I’m going for a walk. If you try anything, Manach—no matter how asleep he is—will kill you. But if you can take him, at least torture him a bit first.”

  Leon blinked, uncertain if I was joking.

  I just grinned and climbed up the rocks.