The iron braziers along the fortress perimeter crackled, casting long, jumping shadows across the gravel path.
Down in the valley, the Forward Encampment was a hive of quiet, mechanical discipline. Sentries walked the high stone walls in pairs, their gray cloaks wrapped tight against the evening chill, heavy crossbows slung across their shoulders. They were trained to watch the high ridge for movement—for the desperate, erratic scrambles of Ash-Walkers or the slow, rhythmic march of corrupted units.
They weren't trained to see three people walking down the center of the main road in broad daylight.
Daniel took the lead, his boots striking the packed dirt in a steady, unhurried rhythm.
Beside him, Lily walked with her hands loose at her sides, her eyes scanning the timberline out of habit, though the dangerous edge in her posture had settled into something far colder. Behind them came Finn Foster, his head tilted up, taking in the sight of the iron palisades he hadn't seen in a decade.
"They've added two watchtowers since my time," Finn observed casually, his voice barely carrying over the crunch of gravel. "And reinforced the outer gate with iron plating. Arthur always did love heavy iron."
"They're afraid," Lily said flatly. "You don't build walls that high unless you're terrified of what's on the other side."
"Or what's coming back," Daniel added.
They reached the perimeter line—a thirty-foot clearing stripped of trees and lined with iron spikes.
A sharp whistle cut through the quiet night air.
High on the central watchtower, a torch flared, followed immediately by the harsh, metallic clatter of heavy crossbolts being drawn back into place.
"Halt!" a voice bellowed from the ramparts. It was young, strained, trying hard to project authority it didn't feel. "Identify yourselves! You are approaching a restricted zone under the jurisdiction of the High Guard!"
Daniel didn't stop. Neither did Lily or Finn.
"I said halt!" the sentry shouted, his voice cracking slightly. "Draw your badges and present them for inspection, or we open fire!"
Daniel reached down to his lapel.
Instead of showing a silver emblem, he simply unclipped the empty leather strap where the badge used to sit and let it drop into the dirt. Lily did the same, the small clasp making a dry thud as it hit the earth.
The sentry on the wall hesitated. He lowered his torch slightly, trying to peer through the gloom at the three figures moving steadily through the spike line.
"They... they don't have badges," another guard on the wall muttered, his voice carrying clearly in the cool air. "Sir, look at their eyes. They aren't Ash-Walkers."
"Get the Commander," the first sentry ordered, his tone shifting from authoritative to panicked. "Get Commander Vane out here now!"
They reached the heavy, iron-bound gates of the inner courtyard before the guards could organize a response.
Daniel stopped five paces from the solid oak doors.
The iron plates on the gate were cold, but as Daniel approached, a faint, lingering trace of the crimson flare flickered across the palm of his hand. He didn't draw his sword. He simply placed his bare palm flat against the center beam of the gate.
A sharp crack echoed through the wood.
The heavy iron latch on the inside of the fortress snapped with a sound like a rifle shot. The massive double doors groaned, shuddering on their iron hinges, before slowly swinging inward under the weight of Daniel's light push.
Inside the courtyard, thirty armed guards stood in a tight defensive arc, swords drawn, shields raised.
At the front of the formation stood a tall man in immaculate, silver-trimmed armor, his hand resting on the pommel of an ornate broadsword.
Commander Vane.
Vane stared at the three intruders stepping through his broken gate. His eyes shifted from Daniel to Lily, and then finally landed on the weathered, gray-haired man standing between them.
Vane's face went dead white.
"Finn?" Vane whispered, his grip on his broadsword tightening so hard his gauntlet creaked. "That's impossible. You died on the peak ten years ago. Vance's report confirmed it."
"Vance was bad at taking notes," Finn said softly, stepping into the torchlight of the courtyard. "And even worse at reading the mountain."
Vane swallowed hard, his eyes darting to Daniel and Lily, taking in the dark, clean steel at their waists and the absolute lack of fear in their eyes.
"Who authorized you to return?" Vane demanded, trying to reclaim his composure, though his voice lacked conviction. "No unit leaves the ridge without official clearance from the inner council!"
Daniel stepped past Finn, taking center stage in the crowded courtyard. The thirty guards raised their shields half an inch, but nobody took a step forward.
"The council didn't clear us," Daniel said, his voice ringing out clearly over the silent courtyard. "We cleared the ridge. The seal is gone, the mountain is quiet, and the leash is broken."
Daniel took another step, his eyes locked onto Vane.
"Now open the inner road. We have a meeting with Arthur."