The journey to the Raven Hunting School was anything but easy. The forest trails were treacherous, their paths twisted and overgrown. Ancient trees loomed overhead, their gnarled branches clawing at the moonlight. The group pressed on in uneasy silence, each of them alert to the unnatural chill that hung in the air.

Kaelen led the way, his demeanor colder than usual. His mind churned with thoughts of the school—a place he hadn’t seen in years. It wasn’t just a building; it was an institution as old as the art of hunting itself. The memories it held for him were as dark as the path they now traveled.

Behind him, Sigrid rode with her usual stoicism, her gaze scanning the shadows for threats. Every so often, she glanced at Kaelen, her thoughts unreadable. Nessa, for her part, brought up the rear, her bow always within reach.

The hours stretched on, the tension in the air growing heavier with each passing mile. Finally, as the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, the forest gave way to a vast, mist-covered valley.

At its heart stood the Raven Hunting School.

The school was no quaint lodge or modest outpost. It was a sprawling fortress of dark stone, its spires piercing the morning mist like jagged blades. Ancient banners, tattered and faded, hung limply from its battlements. Gargoyle statues perched along the walls, their grotesque faces frozen in eternal snarls.

The main gate was a massive construct of iron and wood, reinforced with runes that shimmered faintly in the dim light. It seemed more like the entrance to a fortress than a place of learning.

Nessa let out a low whistle as they approached. "So this is where you trained? Looks more like a prison."

Kaelen smirked faintly, though his eyes remained fixed on the gate. "Sometimes it felt like one."

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Sigrid’s gaze lingered on the massive structure. "I see why you turned out the way you did."

Kaelen shot her a glance but said nothing, guiding his horse forward. As they neared the gate, a low rumble echoed from within, and the massive doors creaked open.

A figure stepped out to meet them—a tall man clad in black leather armor, his face obscured by a hood and a raven-shaped mask. He carried a long halberd, its blade gleaming ominously in the light.

The man’s voice was deep and measured. "Kaelen. It’s been a long time."

Kaelen dismounted, his movements slow and deliberate. "Too long, Corvin. Still playing gatekeeper, I see."

Corvin tilted his head slightly, his mask giving him an almost predatory air. "And you’re still alive. Impressive, considering your talent for finding trouble."

Kaelen smirked. "Speaking of trouble, we need to talk to the Master."

Corvin’s gaze shifted briefly to Sigrid and Nessa. "Bringing outsiders to the school? That’s bold, even for you."

"They’re with me," Kaelen said firmly. "And they’ve earned their place here, at least for now."

Corvin studied the two women for a moment before stepping aside. "The Master will decide if they stay. Follow me."

Inside the school, the atmosphere was no less foreboding. The halls were vast and dimly lit, lined with ancient tapestries depicting legendary hunts and battles. The air smelled of aged wood, leather, and faint traces of blood—a constant reminder of the school’s purpose.

As they walked, whispers seemed to echo from the shadows, the voices of long-dead hunters whose spirits still lingered within the walls.

Sigrid glanced at Kaelen, her expression wary. "Your school has... a certain charm."

Kaelen chuckled softly. "Wait until you meet the Master. He’s the real charm."

They were led to a large chamber at the heart of the fortress. The room was circular, its walls lined with shelves filled with ancient tomes and artifacts. A massive wooden desk sat at the center, behind which loomed the figure of the Master.

He was an imposing man, his face partially obscured by a hood. His eyes glinted with an unnatural light, and his voice was as sharp as the weapons that adorned the walls. "Kaelen. You’ve returned."

Kaelen inclined his head respectfully. "Master. I wish it were under better circumstances."

The Master’s gaze shifted to Sigrid and Nessa, his expression unreadable. "And you’ve brought guests. This is most unusual."

"They’re hunters," Kaelen said simply. "And we’re facing something that requires the school’s resources."

The Master leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "You don’t return for years, and now you ask for help. What makes you think I’ll grant it?"

Kaelen stepped forward, his voice firm. "Because whatever we’re facing isn’t just our problem—it’s a threat to everyone. And if anyone can help us understand it, it’s you."

The room fell silent, the weight of Kaelen’s words hanging heavily in the air. Finally, the Master nodded slowly. "Very well. But understand this—knowledge always comes with a price. Are you prepared to pay it?"

Kaelen exchanged a glance with Sigrid and Nessa. "We wouldn’t be here if we weren’t."

The Master’slips curled into a faint, almost sinister smile. "Then let us begin."