Rotting wood holds no secrets from a man walking toward his own funeral.Thorn ducked his head as he stepped deeper into the narrow shaft, the damp wooden beams creaking under the weight of the earth above. The faint light from the forest faded fast behind them, leaving only the soft silver glow of Lyra floating near his ear. Water dripped rhythmically from the jagged ceiling, splashing against the flat stones of the tunnel floor."Watch your head," Lyra said, her voice echoing in the tight space. "These timber supports look like they will fall if you breathe too hard."Thorn kept his right hand resting on his sword hilt. "The beams are old, but they are sturdy enough. Focus on keeping your light steady.""I am trying," she murmured, hovering closer to his cheek. "It is cold down here, Thorn. A strange kind of cold. Not like the snow on the mountain.""It is just damp earth," Thorn said, taking long, careful strides through the darkness. "Keep moving."They walked in silence for fifty

A broken bridge is just a funeral waiting for a crowd.Thorn stopped at the edge of the riverbank, his leather boots sinking two inches into the thick grey silt. The torrential rain had stopped, leaving a heavy blanket of low fog rolling over the dark water. Fifty yards out, the roaring river smashed against the stone pillars of the old imperial bridge. The central arch was gone, collapsed into the white foam years ago, but three thick timber planks had been thrown across the gap by local traders. On the far side, a single iron lantern glowed faintly through the mist."There is someone standing on the wooden span," Lyra whispered, her silver glow dimming until she looked like a stray spark in the fog. "I see a single silhouette."Thorn did not draw his iron blade yet. He kept his left hand resting inside his leather coat pocket. "Just one?""Only one," Lyra replied, floating up toward a willow branch above his head. "He is not wearing sect armor. He has a long spear and a heavy cloak.

A city built on secrets always smells like rain and wet stone before it burns.Thorn crouched in the shadow of a abandoned grain cart, his dark wool cloak pulled tight over his shoulders. Dawn was breaking over the horizon, painting the sky in pale shades of grey and cold blue. Five hundred yards ahead, the massive outer walls of the imperial capital towered above the open fields. Heavy iron gates blocked the main archway, guarded by two dozen soldiers wearing the silver armor of the Radiant Sword Sect."The main gate is completely sealed," Lyra whispered, her small silver light tucked inside Thorn's leather collar. "They have three spell casters standing on the upper rampart."Thorn adjusted his grip on the hilt of his iron sword. "Julian reached the city last night.""He definitely did," she agreed, her voice trembling slightly. "Look at the banners on the wall. They put up reward posters with your face on every wooden post along the moat."Thorn watched a line of farmers waiting wi

A throne room smells very different when the men inside realize they are about to die.Thorn ducked under a heavy downward strike from the lead guard, bringing his northern steel blade up in a sharp, blinding arc. Steel clashed against steel, sending bright orange sparks showering onto the polished white marble floor. Thorn twisted his wrists, catching the guard's sword guard, and shoved the man hard into two soldiers charging right behind him."Hold the perimeter!" Elder Vael shrieked, backing toward the high glass windows at the far end of the grand room. "Do not let him reach the dais!"Lyra shot through the air like a silver streak, diving straight into Elder Vael's glowing face. "Looking for this?" she yelled, her bright light flaring with intense silver sparks right against his eyes.Elder Vael cried out, swinging his wooden staff wildly at the empty air to hit the floating light. "Get away from me, cursed spirit!"Lyra looped around his head, snagging the glass orb at the top o

A silver blade in the dark kills just as fast as a golden king's command.Thorn ducked beneath the whistling strike, stepping sideways on the slippery basalt floor. Julian's silver blade hissed through the air, hitting the stone wall with a loud metallic clang that sent bright sparks shooting into the dim vault."You are still slow on your left side, Thorn!" Julian roared, pulling his sword back and thrusting straight for Thorn's chest.Thorn brought his new steel blade up, catching Julian's weapon near the hilt. "I do not need to be fast to kill a man who is afraid.""I am not afraid of you!" Julian spat, leaning his full body weight against the crossed blades. Steel ground against steel with a sharp, grating shriek. "You are just a boy holding onto a dead crown!""Then why are your hands shaking?" Thorn asked quietly.Julian bared his teeth in rage, kicking his right boot toward Thorn's knee. Thorn sidestepped the kick, released the clash, and drove his left elbow straight into Juli