The King's Guard

Chapter 19

They moved cautiously, Kael running a hand along the wall until he felt a temperature shift—slightly warmer air. A pathway.

Eventually, they found a spiralled incline etched into the rock itself. It twisted upwards in a slow arc, emerging just beyond the edge of the trial perimeter.

As they stepped back onto the marked trail, Kael’s rune compass which had been silent for hours flared to life. The glow was immediate, almost eager, as though it hadn’t been dormant at all.

When they returned to the Academy, the instructors took their report with polite nods and vague interest.

“Strange anomalies,” one muttered, barely looking up. “We’ll investigate.”

But Kael saw it: the way Instructor Ember’s eyes darted away from his, the stiffness in her posture. A flicker of something less clinical than disinterest. Guilt? Or fear?

He didn’t press it.

That night, Kael couldn’t sleep.

He drifted from the barracks and wandered to the edge of the dormitory courtyard. The torches in the archways had guttered low, and shadows stretched long across the stone floor. A lantern had been left by the fountain, its flame flickering with a tired sway.

Kael sat beside it, elbows on knees, eyes drawn to the water’s stillness. It reflected nothing. No stars. No moon. Just the faint orange of the lantern’s glow.

He waited.

Reyna didn’t come.

But someone else did.

Soft footfalls announced Kyna’s arrival before he saw her. She emerged from the shadows like she’d always been part of them: shoulders relaxed, hair tied back in a simple band.

“You’re not imagining it now, are you?” she asked quietly.

Kael didn’t look up. “No.”

She didn’t sit, but her stance lost its usual sharpness. Her voice held less bite. “They’re not trying to kill you,” she said, as if testing the weight of the words. “Not yet. Just…marking lines.”

He finally glanced at her. “Why?”

Kyna’s gaze flicked towards the stone arches. “Because you’re in the way. Or because you’re just visible enough not to be ignored.”

Kael frowned. “So, what—back down? Let them sort it?”

“If that’s what you think I said, you’re not listening.” Her voice remained soft, but now it carried an edge. “Stay alert. Don’t play hero. And don’t trust who you think you should.”

Then she turned, disappearing the way she came. The shadows swallowed her up.

The next morning, Kael was awake before the summons arrived.

He was listed among only four cadets selected for a priority briefing. Reyna, already there, met his eyes briefly as he entered.

Kyna lounged against the wall, arms folded, jaw set.

Jared arrived last, impeccably dressed, movements smooth and deliberate. He surveyed the others with a faint, controlled smile.

Instructor Archon wasted no time.

“Recon assignment,” he said curtly, tapping the board behind him. “Outside the Academy’s standard bounds. Trial extension. No observers. Success and return time are your metrics.”

Kael’s brow furrowed. No maps, no specifics. Just an area marked red beyond the protected zones.

Reyna leaned slightly towards him. “They’re sending us off-grid.”

Kyna didn’t react, but Kael noticed her foot tapping lightly, rhythmically.

Jared’s grin widened. “I look forward to proving myself again.”

Kael didn’t answer. He simply returned Jared’s gaze, unblinking, until the moment passed.

That night, Kael returned to his room and stopped short.

Something was different.

He scanned the space, senses sharp. His eyes caught a folded note on the floor, just beneath the doorframe. Plain parchment. No seal.

He crouched, opened it carefully.

He’s not the one you should be watching. The strings go higher than his reach.

No signature. No markings.

Just silence.

Kael moved to the window, looking toward the torch towers along the outer wall. Their flames danced restlessly, as though disturbed by something just beyond the eye.

Then he turned, and his breath caught.

His satchel lay where he’d left it.

But the rune compass was gone.

The briefing room buzzed with muted tension at about 9am the next day. Kael adjusted the clasp on his collar, fingers brushing the polished metal as he tried to focus on the mission schematic projected ahead. He wasn’t alone in his distraction. He had found his missing rune compass underneath his bed. But, how did it get there? Was it Jared's handiwork or someone else? What was going on?

Meanwhile, Reyna sat still, keeping her hands on her knees, watching the outlines of the enemy compound without blinking. Kyna who was uncharacteristically silent, kept glancing between the exits.

Darius’s voice broke through.

“This is no simulation.”

Silence fell. The older commander paced to the side of the projection, his expression flat.

“The target is located in the outer fringes of Talveth Hollow. Codenamed Black Dagger. Former operative, defected two years ago. Claims to have information on pending insurgencies. You’re to locate, confirm identity, and extract—alive. Minimal civilian disruption.”

Darius flicked a control. The schematic shifted to a rugged, fog-drenched terrain.

“You’ll be divided into pairs. Squad Delta will provide overwatch. Alpha, your team leads infiltration. Squad Gamma runs point on fallback. You have thirty-six hours.”

The lights returned.

No one asked questions.

They moved out that evening. Under a veil of thin cloud, the Academy’s dropships coasted over mountain ridges toward the hollow. The landscape below looked like a map half-scorched: fractured ridges and thickets of woodland sunk in pale grey mist. Inside the hold, the thrum of engines and the cold flicker of the overhead lights settled over them like a second skin.

Kael sat across from Reyna, their knees almost touching with each jolt of turbulence. Her expression hadn’t changed since the briefing: stoic and unreadable, but her fingers tapped lightly against her leg, a rhythm she probably didn’t notice herself.

“Ever heard of Talveth before?” Kael asked, voice low enough that it didn’t travel beyond them.

She shook her head, shifting to check the harness strap at her shoulder. “Only in archived mission logs. My father once said old trade routes ran through it. Mostly avoided these days. Too many blind spots.”

Kael narrowed his eyes at the floor between them. “Too convenient a place for a meet. Terrain like that hides more than just fog.”

Kyna, perched just beside them and half-leaning on a crate of sealed packs, gave a quiet scoff. “Or it’s a kill-box. Perfect spot if someone wants to make sure we don’t walk out.”

Kael met her gaze. She wasn’t being dramatic. The place had that reputation.

“Then we stay sharp,” he said. “Stick to the plan. No improvising unless absolutely necessary.”

The silence that followed wasn’t agreement so much as quiet resignation.

Touchdown was swift. The moment the dropship hissed open, a blast of damp air hit them, thick with the scent of rotting leaves and old pine. Mud squelched beneath their boots as they dropped into the mist and formed their perimeter. The trees loomed above like jagged cathedral pillars, their branches clawing skyward, moss clinging to bark like old wounds.

Reyna adjusted the scope on her wrist. Kael scanned the treeline. Shapes moved. It was just wind though, or the fog playing tricks, but no sign of life yet.

Jared emerged from the other side of the perimeter, flanked by a pale-eyed recruit from Squad Gamma. His expression was staunch, and though he said nothing, the look he cast Kael spoke volumes. Something between warning and accusation or maybe just resentment. Kael didn’t blink. He looked through Jared, then turned away.

They moved out in staggered formation, weaving through slick undergrowth and narrow ravines. The terrain grew more tangled with each step. Old stone markers half-buried in soil told of a forgotten path, long since claimed by the wild. They pressed on.

The meeting point was a watchtower—at least, it had been once. Now, it barely stood, reduced to a slouching ruin on the hill’s curve, vines choking its frame and stone crumbling from the base like wet parchment.

Reyna raised a hand, halting them. She pressed two fingers to her earpiece and waited.

“No signals,” she muttered, glancing at Kael. “Dead zone starts here.”

Kael exhaled through his nose. The air here was different. He could feel it.

“Then we do this blind.”

The watchtower was hollowed out, abandoned. Dust smothered the floor. A bird’s nest lay half-crushed in the corner, and cracks spiderwebbed the ceiling. Yet it wasn’t entirely empty. There were signs. A trail of muddy boot prints tracked a cautious circle near the threshold. Someone had stood here recently: watched, maybe even waited.

“Someone was here.” Kyna murmured from behind, crouched near the base of a collapsed beam. She touched one of the prints. It was still damp.

Kael moved to the far wall. A jagged line in the stone caught his eye. One segment had shifted slightly—mortar flaked at the edges, and rich, dark soil bled through the gaps. He pressed a hand to it. It gave, ever so slightly.

“Loose stonework,” he said over his shoulder. “Deliberate.”

Reyna joined him, her breath warming the chill in the air. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Hidden cache. Or an exit.”

She nodded, hand moving slowly to her belt. “Or an ambush.”

Before he could speak, the old door creaked wide on rusted hinges.

All four turned at once, weapons half-drawn but not raised.

A figure stood in the doorway, cloak dripping with mist, hands raised slowly at chest height.

“You’re late,” he said.