Chapter 4 Setting up camp 28/07/908

  The sun dipped behind the treeline as Yonas and Nasir made their way to the forest's edge. The air grew cooler, a soft breeze rustling through the underbrush. Nasir led the way, his strides confident and unhurried, while Yonas followed close behind, his eyes darting over the shifting shadows.

  “Here’s good,” Nasir said, stopping in a small clearing. The area was surrounded by trees on three sides, with a gentle slope leading down to a brook that murmured softly over smooth stones.

  Before Yonas could fully take in their surroundings, Nasir had already slipped his pack from his shoulders and set to work. In what felt like mere moments, a fire pit was cleared, stones ringed the edges, and dry kindling was arranged in a neat pile. His movements were fluid and practiced, each action serving a clear purpose.

  Yonas knelt by his own pack, fumbling to unroll his sleeping bag. He tried to mimic Nasir’s efficiency, but his fingers tangled in the straps, and the bag refused to cooperate. By the time he had finally laid it out, Nasir had already started a fire, the flames crackling to life with a few sparks of flint against steel.

  “How do you do it so fast?” Yonas asked, half in awe and half in frustration.

  Nasir chuckled, propping up a couple of branches to hang their dinner over the fire. “Years of practice. You’ll get the hang of it. Survival skills are just as important as combat skills. A well-rested fighter is a sharper fighter.”

  Yonas nodded, setting his pack aside and moving closer to the warmth. The heat licked at his face, the smell of wood smoke mingling with the crisp evening air. Nasir pulled a small wrapped bundle from his pack and unfolded it to reveal two skinned rabbit legs.

  “Bought these from the butcher,” he explained, threading the meat onto sticks and positioning them over the fire. “Traded some information for it. Figured a hot meal would do us good.”

  Yonas' stomach rumbled in agreement, and he settled in beside Nasir, his knees drawn up as he stared into the flames. The quiet stretched comfortably between them until Nasir spoke again.

  “So, you’ve heard about the Kingdom Council’s ranking system, right?”

  “Sort of,” Yonas said. “I know it’s about power levels, but not much else.”

  Nasir nodded, slowly turning the skewered rabbit to ensure it cooked evenly. “The ranks help measure ability, but they’re not perfect. They fluctuate based on experience and intelligence. A rank 1 elementalist, for example, can move elemental energy off their body, shaping it to their will. But for a rank 1 elemental swordsman, they can only apply elemental energy to their body and their sword—they can't project it outward yet.”

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  “What about a rank 2 elemental swordsman?” Yonas asked, his curiosity piqued.

  “To reach rank 2, you need to be a rank 1 elementalist and a rank 1 swordsman. At that stage, an elemental swordsman can enhance their weapon and body with elemental energy more efficiently and start to control the energy with greater precision. They still can’t project it far, but their strikes and defences become more potent.”

  Yonas took this in, his mind working through the implications. “What about you? What rank are you?”

  “I’m a rank 4 elemental swordsman,” Nasir said, not with pride but with a simple honesty. “As a pure swordsman, I’m rank 6, but my elemental energy skills are stuck at rank 3. Without mastering that, I can’t progress further.”

  Yonas hesitated. “Is it because elemental energy is hard to control?”

  “For me, yeah. I just don’t have the same talent with it as I do with the sword. But that’s alright. Not everyone’s path is the same.”

  A comfortable silence fell between them as the rabbit began to brown, its scent mingling with the smoke. Yonas watched the flames dance, his thoughts drifting.

  “What about me?” he asked quietly. “Where do I stand?”

  Nasir offered him a skewer, the meat sizzling slightly. “You’re a rank 1 swordsman, and you’re close to rank 2. Your body is changing—muscles developing, blood flowing more efficiently. I’ve seen it before.”

  The warmth of the fire battled with a chill of doubt that ran through Yonas. “But the goblin... you said it’s as strong as a rank 4 swordsman. I’m not ready for that.”

  Nasir bit into his meal, chewing thoughtfully before responding. “On paper, sure. But strength isn’t everything. That goblin was watching the fruit seller instead of attacking. A true predator strikes when the opportunity presents itself. If it hesitates, that means it has a weakness.”

  Yonas picked at the meat, his appetite dulled by the weight of his thoughts. “So... what do we do?”

  “I’ll weaken it for you. I want you to get a feel for its movements and learn from it. Experience is the best teacher.”

  Yonas looked up, finding Nasir’s expression steady and sure. “What if I fail?”

  “Then you fail. And then we try again.” Nasir’s tone was light, but his words held a gravity that pulled Yonas back to the present. “Remember, strategy matters just as much as strength. If something stronger is chasing you, and you lead it into a trap—a pit with spikes, say—you’ve just beaten it with your brain.”

  Yonas nodded slowly, the fire’s warmth finally reaching him. “I’ll do my best.”

  “That’s all I ask.” Nasir leaned back, his silhouette against the fading light. “Get some rest. We’ll need sharp eyes tomorrow.”

  The fire burned low as they prepared for the night. Yonas nestled into his sleeping bag, the cool earth beneath him grounding his racing thoughts. He stared up at the canopy of leaves, the dark sky peeking through in fractured shards.

  Just as his eyes began to droop, a soft rustling reached his ears. His muscles tensed, the blanket of sleep slipping away. He shifted, his hand finding the hilt of his sword. The sound came again, a brush of leaves against something solid.

  “Nasir?” he whispered, his voice swallowed by the night. His uncle did not stir, his breathing slow and even.

  Yonas held his breath, every sense straining as the rustling grew nearer. Shadows danced at the edge of the firelight, twisting and curling as if alive. His pulse quickened, each beat a hammer against his ribs.

  Then, the sound stopped. Silence wrapped around him, heavy and absolute.

  And then... another rustle, closer this time.

  Yonas tightened his grip on his sword, his mind racing through Nasir’s words—experience, intelligence, strategy. The darkness seemed to thicken, pressing in from all sides. Whatever was out there, it was waiting.

  And so was he.