The early morning mist clung to the ground as Kalen and the delegation made their way down the winding path that led out of the Sacred Hall. The sky was pale with the first light of dawn, casting a muted glow over the landscape. The air was cool and crisp, filled with the scent of pine and damp earth. It was the kind of morning that Kalen had always found peaceful, but now, as he walked alongside his fellow cultivators, peace was the last thing he felt.

The tension was palpable in the group. No one spoke as they moved in silence, their eyes forward, their minds focused on the mission ahead. There were five of them in total, all handpicked by the Council for their skills and abilities. Kalen recognized most of them—veterans of the Sacred Hall who had trained for years—but there were two faces he didn’t know.

At the front of the group was Mistress Lira, her presence commanding and calm. She led them with confidence, her steps sure and steady. Beside her walked Master Kael, one of the senior instructors known for his mastery of wind and lightning. His tall, lean frame moved with a quiet grace, and his eyes were sharp and alert, always scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger.

Behind them were the three disciples who had been chosen: Kalen, Aric, and Lenya. Aric was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a fierce reputation. His mastery of earth made him a formidable force in battle, and his stoic demeanor only added to his intimidating presence. Lenya, on the other hand, was smaller and quicker, her abilities centered around wind and water. She moved with an almost feline grace, her sharp eyes constantly flitting from one place to another, as if she were always ready for something to happen.

Kalen walked slightly behind them, his mind still spinning with thoughts of what lay ahead. The Black Fist. The Raven King. The unknown dangers they would face. It all felt like a dream, one that he wasn’t entirely sure he was ready for.

They had been walking for several hours when Mistress Lira finally broke the silence. "We’ll make camp in the valley ahead," she said, her voice firm but not loud. "We need to conserve our energy for what lies beyond the mountain range."

Kalen glanced up at the peaks looming in the distance. The mountains marked the eastern border of the Sacred Hall’s territory, and beyond them lay the lands controlled by various sects and independent cultivators. It was a dangerous region, known for its harsh terrain and unpredictable weather. But that wasn’t what made Kalen uneasy. It was what lay beyond—rumors of the Black Fist’s influence spreading like wildfire.

As they descended into the valley, Kalen couldn’t help but feel the weight of the journey settling on him. He had never traveled this far from the Sacred Hall before, and the unfamiliarity of the surroundings only added to his sense of unease.

When they finally reached the valley floor, Mistress Lira and Master Kael instructed them to set up camp. The disciples moved efficiently, their training evident in how quickly they worked. Kalen helped Aric gather wood for a fire while Lenya used her control over wind to clear an area for them to rest.

As they worked, Kalen couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. He glanced around, his eyes scanning the tree line and the rocky outcrops that surrounded the valley. The forest was dense, its shadows long and deep. There was no sign of movement, but something felt off. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

"Do you sense it too?" Lenya asked, appearing beside him. Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

Kalen nodded. "It feels like we’re not alone."

Lenya narrowed her eyes, her gaze sweeping the forest. "I’ve felt it since we left the Sacred Hall. Like something’s following us."

Before Kalen could respond, Mistress Lira called out to them. "Keep your focus, disciples. We’re in uncharted territory now. Stay alert."

The warning did little to calm Kalen’s nerves, but he nodded and went back to helping Aric with the fire. As the flames sparked to life, the warmth was a welcome comfort, but it did little to dispel the growing tension in the air.

Once camp was set, the group gathered around the fire. Mistress Lira and Master Kael stood a short distance away, speaking in hushed tones, their faces serious. Kalen couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he could guess it wasn’t good.

Aric, who had been silent for most of the journey, finally spoke. "What do you think we’ll find out there?"

Kalen hesitated before answering. "I don’t know. But whatever it is, it’s dangerous. The Council wouldn’t have sent us if it wasn’t."

Lenya shifted uncomfortably, her hands resting on the hilts of the twin daggers at her waist. "The Black Fist. They’re not like us, are they? They don’t follow the natural balance."

Kalen shook his head. "No. From what I’ve heard, they force the elements to obey them. They don’t work with the elements—they control them."

Aric’s brow furrowed. "That sounds… wrong. How can they even do that?"

"That’s what we’re here to find out," Kalen replied. "But I don’t think it’s going to be easy."

Silence fell over the group again, the crackling of the fire the only sound. Kalen’s thoughts drifted to the Raven King. What kind of power did a man have to wield to command such fear? The stories he had heard made the man sound more like a myth than a real person. But if the Black Fist was real, then so was the Raven King.

As the night wore on, Mistress Lira gave them the order to sleep in shifts. Kalen volunteered for the first watch, his nerves too frayed to allow him to rest. He took up a position at the edge of the camp, his back to the fire, his eyes scanning the darkness.

The valley was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of leaves in the wind. But as Kalen sat there, alone with his thoughts, the sense of being watched returned. It was stronger now, more oppressive. He stood, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword, his breath catching in his throat.

From the shadows at the edge of the forest, a figure emerged.

Kalen’s heart skipped a beat as he drew his sword, the blade glowing faintly with the icy blue of his elemental power. The figure was tall, cloaked in dark robes, its face obscured by a hood.

"Who’s there?" Kalen demanded, his voice steady despite the pounding in his chest.

The figure did not respond. It stood motionless at the edge of the firelight, its presence sending a chill down Kalen’s spine.

In an instant, Mistress Lira and Master Kael were at his side, their weapons drawn. Lenya and Aric followed, moving into defensive positions around the campfire.

The figure remained silent, its hooded gaze fixed on Kalen. Then, in a voice that was barely more than a whisper, it spoke.

"You are not ready."

Before Kalen could react, the figure dissolved into the shadows, vanishing as if it had never been there.

For a long moment, no one moved. The tension in the air was suffocating.

"What was that?" Lenya whispered, her voice barely audible.

"I don’t know," Mistress Lira replied, her eyes narrowing as she stared at the spot where the figure had stood. "But whatever it was, it wasn’t friendly."

Master Kael sheathed his sword, his expression grim. "We’re being watched. We need to stay on guard."

Kalen swallowed hard, his mind racing. The figure’s words echoed in his ears.

*You are not ready.*

What did that mean? Who—or what—had they just encountered?

As the night stretched on, Kalen couldn’t shake the feeling that something far more dangerous than they had imagined was waiting for them beyond the mountains. The journey had only just begun, but already, the weight of what lay ahead was pressing down on him.

Whatever awaited them in the east, it was clear: they were walking into the unknown.