Ch 18: Fractured Signals

After the Test, Before the Mission

Silence echoed through the half-abandoned clearing. Villagers moved like scattered shadows—some gathering supplies, others whispering in hushed conferences. The test's aftermath hung in the air, a storm's ghost not yet ready to dissipate. Vyn stood at the edge of the grounds, staring at the dirt beneath his boots, his mind replaying the battles and failures of the last mission.

His fingers curled into fists at his sides. ‘I need to be better.

“Vyn,” Ayola’s voice called out, soft yet commanding.

He turned abruptly, surprised to see her approaching him. She advanced with her usual grace, her white hair catching the fading light. In her hand was a small, translucent crystal embedded in a simple leather wristband.

“Uh… hey,” he managed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Something wrong?”

“No,” she replied, stopping in front of him. Her honeyed gaze studied him for a moment before holding out the wristband. “Here. This is for you.”

The archer blinked, looking between her and the crystal. “What is it?”

“A communication device,” Ayola said. “An experimental one. This is the receiver. I have the transmitter.”

“Wait, experimental?” He hesitated, eyeing the crystal warily. “You mean… untested?”

“Yes,” she replied simply. “Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t risk using something that hasn’t been tested, but we don’t have the luxury of options. If this works, it will let us communicate across distances without needing a direct line of sight. If it doesn’t…” She shrugged. “It’s still better than nothing.”

“Why me?” Vyn asked, his brow furrowing. “Why not give it to Taren or Elda? Or… anyone else?”

Ayola tilted her head, contemplating her words. “Taren is an excellent leader, but he’s injured and should be resting. He’s a grown man, and I’m not going to babysit him.”

Vyn chuckled nervously. “Fair enough.”

“As for Elda…” Ayola’s tone shifted, becoming more clinical. “She’s skilled, but she made questionable calls during the last mission. I respect her abilities, but trust is another matter.”

“And Varis?”

“I don’t know him well enough. And Ren…” Her gaze softened slightly. “Ren is injured too. He needs to focus on healing.”

The crystal. A weight. A question lodged like a stone in his throat: last resort or first choice? "So... I'm just the last option?"

Firm. Unequivocal. "No." Ayola's words sliced through his doubt. "You're the right option."

He blinked, taken aback.

“You’ve been through a lot,” she continued, her tone softer now. “And yes, you’ve doubted yourself. But I’ve seen how you handle pressure. You adapt, you think on your feet. This is just communication, Vyn. I know you’ll do fine.”

Vyn examined the crystal in her hand, his reflection distorted in its smooth surface. Her words settled in his chest, warm and heavy. Slowly, he reached out and took the wristband, sliding it onto his arm.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

“Don’t thank me,” Ayola said, stepping back. “Just keep it close. And trust your instincts.”

As she walked away, Vyn glanced at the crystal on his wrist. It felt heavier than it should, but something about her words stuck with him. Trust your instincts.

For the first time in a while, he thought… maybe he could.

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Around the Fire - Ny’Kelos

Darkness descended—not gently, but with purpose. A weighted silence. Crickets whispered their ancient rhythms, owl calls threading through the night's fabric. The campfire breathed, its sparks climbing—rebellious embers seeking communion with the star-pierced canopy. Around them, the sounds of the village settling down filtered through the darkness - the quiet murmur of changing guard shifts, the soft clinking of weapons being cleaned, the occasional burst of laughter from children being ushered to bed.

The warmth of the fire did little to ease the weight in Vyn's chest. The crystal sat heavy in his pocket, its presence a constant reminder of responsibilities he wasn't sure he deserved. Each time his hand brushed against it, memories of the ruins flashed through his mind - Taren's blood-stained armor, Elda's desperate orders, the sound of stone crumbling behind them as they fled.

“You’ve been staring at that fire so hard, I thought you were trying to melt it.” Ren’s teasing, cutting through the quiet night. He leaned back against the log he was sitting on, arms crossed as he stared at his friend.

Vyn blinked, startled out of his thoughts. “What? No, I—” He paused, catching the smirk on Ren’s face. “You’re hilarious, really. Should’ve been a court jester.”

“Hey, someone’s gotta lighten the mood,” Ren quipped, his lips twitching into a small grin. “Can’t have you brooding all night. Bad for morale.”

Varis chimed in. “Careful, Ren. You keep poking him, and he might actually say something interesting. Or worse—try to get poetic.”

The lighthearted scout snorted, while Vyn shot Varis a look that was half exasperation, half amused. “You two are impossible,” Vyn muttered, shaking his head. But despite himself, a small smile tugged at his lips.

“You’re welcome,” Varis replied with a grin, leaning back on his hands. “So, what’s on your mind? You’ve been awfully quiet for someone who’s usually in the middle of things.”

“It’s been a long day,” Vyn interjected, brushing off the question. He picked up a nearby twig, turning it over in his hands as if inspecting it. “That’s all.”

“Long for all of us,” Ren agreed, though his tone remained light. “Spent half the aftenoon chasing those damn wild goats out of the garden, and then the other half convincing the chief not to make goat stew.”

“That would’ve been the highlight of my day,” Varis uttered with a mock sigh. “Instead, I got stuck helping Daelin inventory the armory. Again. If I have to count one more arrow or sharpen one more blade, I’m going to lose it.”

He couldn't help wondering where Soren and the others were now. Whether they were even alive. The thought sat like a stone in his gut.

"Earth to Vyn," Ren called out, tossing a small twig at him. "You're doing it again." Vyn blinked, brushing off the twig. "Doing what?"

"That thing where you stare into the fire like it's going to tell you the future," Ren said, stretching his legs out with a satisfied groan. His own exhaustion was evident in the way he moved, though he tried to hide it behind his usual humor.

"Just thinking," The archer muttered.

"Dangerous habit," The merchant quipped, but his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. He'd spent the day helping reorganize the village's dwindling supplies, using his trade knowledge to stretch resources that had to feed far too many mouths.

"Though I suppose we've all been doing a lot of that lately."

"Hard not to," Ren admitted, his usual timbre replaced with solemn.

"Keep expecting to wake up back home, ya know? Instead, I'm spendin’ my days chasin’ goats and helping build defenses for a village I didn't even know existed a month ago."

"While our friends are out there somewhere," Vyn added softly, poking at the fire with a stick.

"Not knowing if they made it..." A comfortable silence fell between them, broken only by the crackling of the flames. Each lost in their own thoughts about how they'd ended up here, and what might come next. Varis was the first to break it, his cadence carrying its usual light tone though his words held weight.

"At least we're making ourselves useful. The village needed help with the essentials - things they couldn't spare people for with all the defense preparations. Between Vyn's archery lessons, my supply management, and Ren's...uh goat-herding talents..."

"Hey!" Ren protested, but there was a genuine smile in it. "We're doing what we can," Varis finished. "It's not what we planned, but it's something."

“Better than hauling water all afternoon,” Vyn pointed out. “Which, by the way, is a lot less fun when the kids keep stealing your buckets for their… what did they call it? Operation River Monster?”

Ren barked out a laugh. “That’s what they were doing? The kids might be onto something.I’ve seen trade caravans use decoys to lure bandits away. We could rig something to misdirect any attackers-if we had the right supplies.”

“Pretty sure one of them tried to recruit me,” Varis added, his grin widening. “Said they needed a merchant to negotiate with the monster.”

“Sounds like you’re perfect for the job,” The archer quipped dryly, tossing the twig into the fire. It caught quickly, the flames devouring it in seconds.

The three of them shared a quiet laugh, the camaraderie easing the weight of the day’s work. The fire crackled between them, its warmth a small comfort against the cool night air.

After a moment, Ren let out a dry, humorless laugh and leaned back, his gaze fixed on the stars visible through the gaps in the trees. “You know, this mission… it went sideways fast. How did we even end up here?”

Vyn glanced at him, his smile fading slightly. He didn’t answer right away, his mind drifting back to everything that had happened since they’d left .The Catalyst, the mercenaries, the constant fights for survival—it all felt like a distant dream and an ever-present nightmare at the same time.

“Not the plan, that’s for sure,” The charming negotiator responded, light but with reflection. He gestured toward the village. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, this place has its charm. But it’s not exactly where I saw myself a month ago.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“Where did you see yourself?” Ren asked, his tone curious.

Varis shrugged, a grin tugging at his lips. “Anywhere with better food and less mud. Maybe haggling over rare spices in the city markets, charming some noble out of their coin. You know—living the dream.”

Vyn let out a hushed chuckle, though it sounded more wistful than amused. “Yeah. The dream.”

The joking warrior turned to him, his brow furrowing. “You miss it, don’t you? Brighthollow?”

Vyn hesitated, the question hanging in the air. His fingers traced absently over his bow string before he finally nodded. “Yeah… I do.”

The admission lingered between them, unspoken yet understood. The firelight reflected in their eyes as they each considered their own answers—what they’d left behind, what they were fighting for. The silence stretched, a moment of shared understanding that didn’t need words.

It was Varis who finally broke the silence, his voice carrying a hint of humor to lighten the mood. “Well, if we survive this, I’m buying the first round when we get back. Assuming there’s still a tavern left standing.”

Ren snorted. “You mean you’ll haggle for the first round.”

Varis grinned. “Details.”

Their laughter felt lighter this time, cutting through the heaviness of the moment. But before the warmth of their banter could fully settle, Vyn’s expression changed. His gaze dropped to his pack, his brow furrowing as he reached for something.

“What is it?” Ren asked, his tone shifting to concern.

Vyn didn't answer right away. His fingers brushed against the smooth surface of the crystal Ayola had given him, the weight of her trust pressing heavier than the object itself. Why me? The question echoed in his mind again, mixed with doubt and a desperate need to prove himself worthy of that faith.

He pulled it out, the faint light of the crystal catching the fire’s glow.

The others leaned in, their curiosity piqued. “What is that…” Ren began trailing off.

The crystal's first change was subtle - a faint warmth against Vyn's palm that seemed to pulse in rhythm with his heartbeat. Then came the color shifts, barely noticeable at first: flickers of deep blue bleeding into violet, like storm clouds gathering inside the transparent surface.

Ren noticed it first, his usual smile fading as he leaned forward. "Vyn... is it supposed to do that?"

“It’s… something Ayola gave me,” The brunette archer said slowly, his eyes narrowing as he examined the crystal. “For communication. But I've never done this before.”

The crystal's glow intensified, casting strange shadows across their faces. A low hum began to emanate from it, vibrating through Vyn's bones like the distant rumble of thunder. The air around them grew heavy, charged with an energy that made the hair on their arms stand on end.

Varis shifted uneasily, his merchant's confidence cracking. "That doesn't look good."

Before Vyn could respond, hairline fractures appeared across the crystal's surface, spreading like frost across a window. The hum rose to a painful pitch, and then-

The crystal fractured with a final burst of light that left them blinking in the darkness.

Silence fell, broken only by the faint crackle of the nearby fire. The three men stared at the remnants, the faint glow now completely extinguished.

Varis broke the stunned silence. “So… uh… what now?”

The three exchanged uneasy glances, the gravity of the situation settling over them. Vyn tightened his grip on the remains of the crystal, his jaw clenched as he tried to shake off the gnawing feeling of dread creeping up his spine.

“Let’s go,” Vyn said finally, his tone steady but low. He met their gazes in turn. “We need to find someone. Now.”

Without another word, they moved, the hushed urgency of their steps carrying them into the night.

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The Hall of the Talking Fire - Ny’kelos

Urgency lived between breaths. Pine smoke—a sentinel's breath—danced across parchment battlefields. Tactical markers stood like forgotten soldiers, their shadows stretching across the scarred table's landscape of potential destruction. Through the open window, bitter medicinal herbs from the healer's hut mingled with the metallic scent of approaching rain. Each gust sent the maps fluttering like nervous birds, while the carved walls seemed to absorb the weight of unspoken fears. The creak of wooden floors and snap of shutters provided a grim percussion to their planning, punctuated by the distant ring of hammers as villagers fortified defenses in the growing dark. Elda sat at a low table, scanning a sheet of parchment filled with hastily scribbled notes.

Daelin stood nearby, arms crossed, speaking in measured tones as he listed off the village’s needs. Across from her, Taren leaned back against the wall, his hand absently brushing the bandages wrapped around his side, his expression distant but attentive.

Each time Daelin marked a position on the map, the wooden tactical markers clicked against the table like closing coffin lids. The sound echoed in the room's heavy silence, punctuated only by the soft scrape of chair legs against wooden floors and the occasional cough. The scent of leather and weapon oil hung thick in the air - the smell of warriors preparing for battle. Outside, the wind had picked up, causing the shutters to creak ominously. It carried with it the distant sound of hammers striking wood as villagers worked through the night to reinforce defenses. Elda's fingers traced the map's terrain lines, following the paths their enemies might take. Her shadow, cast by the room's torchlight, stretched across the table like a giant's hand reaching for prey. The tactical markers cast smaller shadows that looked like tiny soldiers marching across the parchment landscape.

“Food stores are holding steady,” Daelin remarked, his voice steady but edged with fatigue. “But only just. If the hunters don’t bring in a decent haul tomorrow, we’ll have to start rationing the dried meat.”

Elda sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “We’ll need to pull the younger villagers from the fields and onto trap-setting duties, at least until the forest clears up. The storm three nights ago probably scattered the game deeper into the woods.”

Daelin hesitated. “That’s a gamble. The fields are already behind schedule, and the elders aren’t going to take kindly to losing more hands.”

“Do you think I care what the elders think when half the village is one missed hunt away from starvation?” Elda snapped.

Taren raised a hand to de-escalate. “She’s not wrong. Short-term priorities come first. The elders will have to understand that survival isn’t up for negotiation.”

Chief N’Kari’s deep, calm voice interjected, silencing the tension. “Careful, Elda. Your sharp tongue wins no allies. Daelin, you’ll handle the elders if it comes to that. Explain it to them as you would a child; patience and reason are tools as much as a spear.”

Daelin sighed but nodded. “Fine. But if I have to mediate another argument about whose goat wandered where, I’m assigning Elda as their babysitter.”

Elda glared at him, though there was a flicker of reluctant amusement in her expression. “They wouldn’t survive my babysitting.”

Elda tapped a finger against the table, her brow furrowing. “Patrols?”

“Thin,” Daelin admitted. “We’ve pulled warriors from every spare corner. Craftsmen, elders, even the older apprentices. But we’re barely covering the perimeter, and it’s only a matter of time before exhaustion sets in.”

Taren spoke up, his voice calm but firm. “Rotate the apprentices off night watch. Let them rest. Exhausted fighters are as good as none.”

“Agreed,” Elda said, though her tone was clipped. “But that leaves the southern perimeter even more exposed.”

The native rubbed the bridge of his nose, clearly weighing the options. “I’ll reassign one of the hunting parties for tomorrow’s dawn patrol. It’ll leave the forest traps unattended for a few hours, but—”

Their discussion was cut short as the door to the room slammed open with a loud bang. Instinctively, Daelin’s hand flew to the hilt of his blade, while Elda shot to her feet, her expression snapping to one of sharp alarm.

“What in the—” Elda began, but her words were drowned out by the heavy footsteps of Varis, Vyn, and Ren as they burst into the room.

“Stop!” The left hand of N'Kari barked, stepping forward, his posture tense. “Who allowed—?”

“We’re sorry!” Vyn blurted out, holding up his hands in an attempt to placate them. His face was flushed, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “But this couldn’t wait.”

“What couldn’t wait?” Elda snapped, her eyes narrowing as she folded her arms. “You’d better have a damn good reason for barging in here.”

Varis, ever the smooth talker, raised his hands in mock surrender. “Look, I know this isn’t exactly protocol, but you’ll want to hear this. Trust me.”

Taren’s calm voice cut through the tension. “Enough. Let them speak.” His gaze fixed on The archer, steady and unyielding. “What happened?”Here’s an expanded version of the scene with added skepticism from Elda and Daelin, maintaining the tension and referencing their confusion about the importance of the shattered crystal:

Vyn stepped forward, fumbling with his pouch. He pulled out the crystal, now cracked and faintly glowing, and held it up for all to see. “This. Ayola gave it to me before she left. She said it was an experimental communication device. It started glowing and shaking—and then it cracked.”

Vyn felt the familiar pressure building in his chest - the same instinct that had warned him about countless other moments where death had smiled and passed them by. But this was different. This wasn't just danger approaching; it was something worse. Something that made the crystal's remnants burn cold against his palm and sent his thoughts spinning like startled birds.

"A broken rock?" Elda's words cut through his thoughts, sharp and dismissive. The old Vyn might have backed down, might have second-guessed himself. But he'd survived too much, seen too much, to doubt these instincts now.

"You weren't there," he said, his voice steady despite the storm of uncertainty inside him. "You didn't feel it. This isn't about the crystal - it's about what it means. And if I'm right..." He let the words hang, heavy with implications none of them wanted to face.

The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling over them like a heavy fog.

Daelin’s gaze shifted from the crystal to Vyn’s face, his expression unreadable. “Broke?” he repeated, his tone low and cautious. “How?”

Vyn opened his mouth to respond, but Elda cut in, her tone sharp and impatient. “And that’s why you barged in here? Because of a broken rock?” She folded her arms, her keen eyes narrowing. “You’re telling me Ayola handed you a glorified light show, and you thought this—” she gestured toward the crystal, “—was worth interrupting a meeting for?”

Varis, leaning casually against the wall, interjected with a smirk. “To be fair, it is glowing, and if there’s one thing we’ve learned, glowing stones are usually bad news.”

The archer’s face flushed with frustration. “It was stable, glowing faintly at first, then suddenly started shaking and—” He cut himself off, his voice rising. “This isn’t normal.”

Daelin leaned closer, his arms crossed, his skepticism evident. “A crystal glows, then breaks. What makes that so urgent? Why not wait until morning to tell us?”

Vyn bristled at the insinuation. “Because Ayola said it was meant for communication. Do you think she’d give me something untested if she didn’t think it was important?”

Elda scoffed, shaking her head. “She gave it to you because she didn’t trust anyone else. That doesn’t mean it’s anything more than an experiment gone wrong.”

Vyn’s hands clenched at his sides, his voice steady despite the tension in the room. “This isn’t just a broken rock. The catalyst crystals reacted like this before they corrupted the wolves. You saw what happened to them.

Elda opened her mouth to retort, but Taren’s voice cut through the rising tension. “Enough.”

The room stilled, Taren’s calm but firm tone silencing further argument. His gaze transitioned between Vyn, Elda, and Daelin, his expression unreadable. “Vyn wouldn’t have brought this here without a reason. Let him finish.”

Vyn nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “I don’t know exactly what this means, but Ayola made it clear this crystal wasn’t just for show. If it broke, something caused it. Something we need to be ready for.”

Elda crossed her arms, her skepticism still evident. “You’re sure this isn’t just your imagination?”

“My gut,” The instinct-driven archer said firmly, meeting her gaze, “has never steered me wrong.”

Daelin snorted softly. “Your gut? You’re basing this on a feeling?”

Varis leaned forward with a grin. “You’d better believe it. Vyn’s gut has saved us more than once.”

“Like when?” Elda challenged, her tone laced with doubt.

“Like the caravan ambush,” Varis retorted easily. “He called it hours before we saw the first bandit. If he hadn’t, we’d all be ash in some raider’s campfire.”

Ren, standing quietly at the back of the group, added, “And the bridge collapsed at Crescenthold. Vyn spotted the cracks no one else noticed. We would’ve been buried in rubble without his warning.”

Taren joined the chorus, calm and measured. “The Frost Peaks, too. Vyn insisted we bring extra supplies because of a ‘bad feeling.’ That bad feeling saved us when the storm hit.”

Elda hesitated, her gaze flicking between them, her doubt slowly giving way to reluctant acceptance. She let out a low groan, throwing up her hands. “Fine. What exactly are we supposed to do about it?”

“We prepare,” Taren proclaimed simply, “And we act.”

The chief, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. “Crystals like these do not shatter without reason. Whatever caused this… it is not natural. We must act.”

Just as the chief finished speaking, another set of footsteps thundered down the hallway. The door burst open again, revealing a young scout, Kira, who stumbled to a stop upon seeing the already crowded room.

"Enemy scouts—" she began breathlessly, then blinked at the assembled group. "Oh. Um. Did... did I interrupt something?"

Daelin pinched the bridge of his nose. "Does no one in this village knock anymore?"

"To be fair," Varis offered with a grin, "we did set the precedent just now."

"Not helping," Elda muttered.

Kira shifted awkwardly. "I can come back...?"

"No," several voices responded in unison.

The chief raised his hand for silence, though amusement flickered in his eyes. "Speak, child. What news?"

"Right. Yes." Kira straightened. "Enemy scouts, about two hundred feet from the eastern perimeter. They're well-armed, moving in pairs. Professional. Not bandits."

"Mercenaries," Taren said grimly.

"How many?" Daelin demanded.

"At least twelve that we spotted. They're being careful, but..." Kira hesitated. "They're looking for something."

The room fell silent as the implications sank in. Finally, Vyn spoke up, holding up the shattered crystal.

"Still think this was just my imagination?"