The sun bore down with a merciless heat, turning the air thick and shimmering above the parched earth. Sweat clung to my neck beneath the collar of my armor, but it wasn't the heat that unsettled me it was the silence.
I'd been waiting since dawn for the return of the two scouts I sent out last night. By now, they should have been back hours ago.
"Orrin," I called, my voice carrying across the rows of canvas tents. The soldier straightened from where he stood beside the supply cart and strode over, saluting sharply.
"General."
"Where are the scouts I sent last night?" My tone was calm, but my eyes searched his face for any sign of news.
"Sir… they haven't returned."
I frowned. "Ask around. Find out if anyone saw them come in at all."
"Yes, General." He moved quickly, disappearing into the bustle of the camp.
Men were sharpening blades by the smithy. Others hauled water in heavy buckets from the stream. Horses shifted restlessly in the heat, tails swishing at flies. The normal rhythm of the camp continued, but under it all there was a thread of unease_a feeling that every man could sense but none dared to voice.
When Orrin returned, his face was pale and tight. "General… every man confirms it. They never came back."
I stared past him toward the dark line of trees at the clearing's edge. "I gave no orders for them to remain out all night." My voice was low, more to myself than to him.
"Sir… Should I go out and search?"
I nodded. "Take Darren with you. Ride light, no unnecessary stops and return the moment you find anything."
Orrin hesitated. "And if we don't find them?"
I met his eyes. "Then you report straight to me. No delays. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
He gave a curt salute before jogging off toward the picket lines, already calling for Darren. I remained where I was, eyes locked on the silent, shadowed treeline_its stillness like a mouth holding its breath.
Something was wrong in those woods.
And I intended to find out what.
Minutes dragged by, each one stretching longer than the last. The air felt heavier, the quiet more oppressive. My gaze kept flicking toward the treeline, waiting_hoping_to see Orrin and Darren emerge with the missing scouts.
But nothing.
The longer I waited, the more unease coiled in my chest. A part of me itched to mount my horse and ride out myself, but before I could make the decision, hurried footsteps approached.
Lucen, the camp's butler, came rushing toward me. For a heartbeat, my hopes lifted perhaps he brought word from the search party.
"General Aedric," he saluted, breathing lightly from the quick pace.
"What is it, Lucen?" I asked, leaning forward slightly. "Do you bring news from Orrin? From the scouts?"
He hesitated, then shook his head. "No, sir. I came to inform you… We've run out of wine and bread."
I stared at him for a moment. "So?"
"I need your permission to restock," he replied quickly.
"Do you know of any village or market nearby?"
"Yes, General. A small one, not far from here."
I studied him for a moment, weighing the risk. If Orrin and Darren had not returned, there could be danger beyond the clearing. Still, the camp needed supplies, and hunger would weaken my men faster than any enemy.
"Take some coin," I ordered finally. "Go to the market, get fresh bread and wine, and return immediately. No detours, no delays."
"Yes, sir," Lucen said, bowing slightly before hurrying away.
As I watched him go, a knot tightened in my stomach. Sending him out while others had yet to return felt reckless, but the camp couldn't risk running out of food. My eyes drifted once more to the silent woods.
Where are you, boys? And what in the hell is keeping you?
----
The morning sun spilled in through the tall windows, painting the sitting room in gold. The air was already warm, a sign the day would be long. I was halfway through mending a tear in my practice tunic when I heard the light, quick footsteps of my mother and sisters coming down the stairs.
Mother's work bag hung over her arm, stuffed with measuring tapes, chalk, and rolls of neatly folded swatches. I knew that bag well_she only carried it when she was heading to her shop. She glanced at me with a gentle smile.
"Ariel, I'm opening the shop early today. Would you like to come with me? I could use the extra pair of hands."
Mother never forced us to help, but her tone was always warm enough to make you want to say yes.
I set aside my tunic and nodded.
"Of course, Mother. I've no plans for practice today, so I have all the time to help."
Anna, who had been adjusting the ribbons on her dress, spoke up next.
"Mother, I was thinking of sewing a new gown for myself. There's some pale blue silk I've been saving…"
Mother's eyes softened.
"Then you should do that today. Daphne can assist you_she's always had an excellent eye for details.'
Daphne's head snapped up, her voice rising an octave.
'Why can't I come to the shop with you instead? Let Ariel help Anna."
Anna lowered her gaze, her tone soft but edged with disappointment.
"It's fine if you don't want to help me…"
Daphne quickly backtracked, lifting her chin so she didn't lose her air of pride.
"I didn't say that. I'll not help you."
Mother's voice was patient as always.
"Daphne, you know you have a better sense for trimming and shape. I trust you to make your sister's gown perfect."
Daphne gave a dramatic toss of her hair before smirking.
"Well… fine. If you insist, Mother."
I rolled my eyes playfully at their little back-and-forth before cutting in.
"If you two keep debating, Mother and I will be late, and then she'll have a line of impatient customers before she even unlocks the door."
That got them moving.
---
By the time we reached the shop, the small bell above the door chimed cheerfully. The room smelled faintly of lavender sachets tucked between bolts of fabric. Sunlight danced on rows of neatly stacked silks, cottons, and velvets, each roll bound with ribbon. Three half-finished dresses stood on wooden mannequins, pins catching the light like tiny stars.
Mother set down her bag and tied her apron in one fluid motion before greeting the first customer_a young woman clutching a scrap of lace and looking hopeful. I took my place behind the counter, already reaching for the order ledger.
The rhythm of the shop was always the same_measuring, cutting, hemming_but it was alive, full of the sound of scissors sliding through cloth, the rustle of skirts as women twirled in front of the mirrors, and the murmured discussions about weddings, festivals, and feasts.
This was Mother's world, and I could see the way it came alive for her, just as the training yard did for me.