The dense and dark forest stretched endlessly around them, a maze of trees and underbrush that seemed to press in from all sides. It had been a week since the attack on Azeron, and Renjiro and his companions had been moving steadily westward, deeper into the unknown wilderness. They’d hardly stopped, their days and nights blending into an endless blur of survival, fatigue, and lingering anxiety. They were tired, hungry, and unsure of what lay ahead.

“I would do anything for a loaf of bread right now,” Goro groaned, breaking the silence as he trudged along the uneven forest floor. “Or some roasted meat. Anything that isn’t dried roots and leaves.”

Emi rolled her eyes, though a faint smile crossed her face. “We’re lucky to have found enough to eat at all, Goro. The forest isn’t exactly a banquet hall.”

Renjiro chuckled softly, though his gaze remained forward, scanning the dense trees. “I’d say we’re all ready for a real meal, but let’s make it out of here first.”

Kairro snorted from behind, though exhaustion softened his usual sharp tone. “Well, if you have any ideas on where we can find bread in this endless wilderness, I’d love to hear it.”

As they exchanged banter, their conversation turned more somber, reflecting on the events that had driven them into the forest. The Red Clan’s breach of Azeron’s defenses still felt surreal—a violation of the academy they’d once considered impenetrable. The weight of it seemed to linger in the air, a reminder of the world’s sudden shift.

“We trained for this… or so we thought,” Kairro muttered. “But no one could have prepared us for the Red Clan breaking through the academy’s barriers. And now we’re just… out here. Hiding.”

Renjiro noticed Yumeru walking a little ways behind them, her gaze distant, her expression clouded. She hadn’t spoken much about the attack, but he could see something unsettled in her eyes—a disturbance that ran deeper than exhaustion. He opened his mouth to ask if she was all right, but he hesitated, unsure if she’d want him to pry.

Finally, after a pause, Emi cleared her throat. Her voice was hesitant, as if she’d been thinking about it for a while but hadn’t wanted to say it. “Renjiro… I think it’s time we address the obvious. You’re… human.”

The group grew quiet, each of them turning their attention to him. He met their gazes, seeing a mix of curiosity, uncertainty, and—for some, like Kairro—lingering disbelief.

He took a steadying breath. “You’re right. I am human. I’m not from Azeron. My village is far from here, a place that didn’t know about the clans or Lumina.”

“What brought you to Azeron, then?” Goro asked, his usual lightheartedness replaced with genuine curiosity.

Renjiro’s gaze dropped to the ground, memories flickering in his mind like fragments of a dream. “It started when I found a cave near my village. Inside… I found a crystal. It glowed, brighter than anything I’d ever seen. I can’t remember exactly what happened after I touched it. Everything went blurry, and when I woke up, I started feeling strange… powerful. But it wasn’t long before the Red Clan came.”

He hesitated, the memory still raw in his mind. “There was one soldier who stood out among the others. He didn’t lead them—he commanded them, and they obeyed. They called him Calo. I remember… my uncle tried to fight him off, to protect me.” Renjiro’s voice faltered, and he closed his eyes as the memory resurfaced in sharp, painful clarity.

In his mind’s eye, he could see his uncle, fierce and unyielding, standing before him as Calo closed in. His uncle fought bravely, wielding an old hammer and calling out to him, “Run, Renjiro!” But Calo moved with brutal precision, evading every blow until he caught his uncle by the throat. Renjiro remembered the sight of his uncle, held helplessly in Calo’s iron grip, his face paling as the life was squeezed out of him. The last look his uncle gave him was one of desperate, silent hope—a plea for him to survive.

The memory passed, leaving Renjiro feeling hollow, the weight of that moment settling heavily in his chest. His gaze remained lowered as he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t do anything. I was helpless.”

As he spoke, he felt an ache in his chest as another face flashed through his mind—his friend Kaelan, whose whereabouts were still unknown. The memory of the attack left him with lingering questions. Had Kaelan survived? Could he somehow be out there, alive and hiding just like him?

The moment he mentioned Calo, shock rippled through the group. Emi’s eyes went wide, and Goro visibly tensed, while Kairro took a sharp breath, his expression hardening.

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“Calo?” Emi repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “As in General Calo—the Red Clan’s butcher? He’s… infamous among the Guardians for his ruthlessness. He’s known to be one of the most volatile commanders in their ranks.”

Kairro’s face was unreadable, but there was a newfound respect, mingled with horror, as he looked at Renjiro. “You encountered Calo and survived? Not many can say that.”

Renjiro nodded slowly, the memory bringing a fresh ache to his chest. “He’s the reason I’m here… why I came to Azeron. I had to get stronger. To be able to protect myself… and others.” His gaze dropped, a flicker of pain crossing his face. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

Silence settled over the group, each of them absorbing Renjiro’s words. Kairro’s face was taut, his gaze fixed on the ground as if deep in thought.

Emi, her brows furrowed in concentration, finally broke the silence. “Renjiro, even if you absorbed some power from the crystal, a human body isn’t designed to withstand Lumina. It should have torn you apart.”

Renjiro nodded, knowing that Emi’s words mirrored the doubts he had faced himself. “I don’t know why I survived. I just know that something changed in me that day. It’s the reason I came to Azeron. To train, to grow stronger… so I wouldn’t be helpless if the Red Clan ever came for me again.”

Kairro’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, the sting of his inner conflict evident. “All my life… I trained and perfected every move and every technique. And yet…” He trailed off, frustration simmering beneath his words. “An inexperienced Lumina user—a human, no less—bested me in combat.”

The group fell into an uneasy silence, each caught in their thoughts as the night deepened. Exhausted, they finally set up a small camp, settling in to rest until dawn.

Hours later, long after everyone had fallen asleep, Goro’s eyes snapped open. He sniffed the air, his stomach growling as a faint scent of food drifted toward him. He nudged Yumeru, who was closest to him, and whispered, “Do you smell that?”

Yumeru stirred, inhaling sharply before nodding. She motioned for Emi to follow as they silently rose, leaving Renjiro and Kairro by the dwindling fire. Following the scent, they crept through the underbrush, the smell of freshly cooked food growing stronger with each step.

The sight stopped them in their tracks. In a small clearing, platters of bread, cured meats, and fruits were scattered across the forest floor, as though a feast had been laid out just for them.

“Finally,” Goro murmured, moving forward to grab a piece, his hunger momentarily overriding his caution.

“Wait!” Yumeru grabbed his arm, her expression wary. “Something’s off. This doesn’t make any sense.”

But it was too late. Shadows fell from the trees above them, masked figures in dark hoods landing silently around them with bows drawn and blades gleaming in the moonlight. In a flash, they cast nets made of an unusual black metal that seemed to glimmer with an unnatural sheen. The nets fell over Goro, Yumeru, and Emi, trapping them within thick, shadowy fibers.

Goro struggled, his voice panicked as he strained against the binds. “I can’t break free! I… I can’t use my Lumina!”

Emi, her face filled with alarm, attempted to summon her energy, but the effort was met with a deadening resistance. “I can’t either… it’s like it’s being… drained.”

Yumeru tugged at the strands of the net, her expression darkening as a familiar dread crept into her thoughts. What is this… No, it can’t be what I think it is…

Their captors moved swiftly, their faces obscured as they tightened the nets around the struggling trio. The dark metal glowed faintly, absorbing the Lumina from any attempts to escape. Helpless, they could only watch as the hooded figures dragged them toward waiting carts, hitched to fierce, snarling beasts with orange eyes and bristling fur.

“Goro! Emi! Yumeru!” Renjiro’s voice was a distant shout, jolting him awake as he and Kairro sat up by the fire. In the darkness, they saw the faint forms of their friends, ensnared and being carried off by their captors.

Without hesitation, Renjiro and Kairro ran after them, dodging trees and leaping over roots as they pursued the kidnappers deep into the forest. They ran for what felt like hours, following the faint tracks and broken branches left behind, but by morning, their friends were gone.

“We have to find them,” Renjiro said, his voice low with determination. “We can’t let them stay captured.”

Kairro nodded, a fierce look in his eyes. “Agreed. They’re not getting away with this.”

They spent the next day following the trail, the forest growing thicker and darker with each step. As dusk fell, rustling sounds nearby made them tense, but before they could react, a trap activated beneath them. A massive net lifted them both into the air, leaving them suspended high above the ground.

Footsteps approached, and soon a figure emerged from the shadows—a young boy, his face obscured by a hood of deep green, eyes barely visible in the dim light.

Kairro struggled against the net, his voice loud with frustration. “Release us! Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?”

The boy tilted his head, regarding them with an unblinking stare. “You’re not a Screecher?” he asked, his voice soft and hesitant.

Renjiro, sensing Kairro’s temper rising, quickly spoke up. “We mean no harm. I promise we’re not your enemies.”

The boy seemed to hesitate, his gaze shifting between them before he reached up, pulling his hood back slightly to reveal green eyes and hair. His face was youthful but sharp, his expression a mixture of caution and curiosity. “You’re not from here… but that mark on your clothing.” His eyes narrowed as they landed on the white phoenix symbol emblazoned on their attire. “You’re from the Blue Clan?”

Kairro’s eyes widened with realization, his tone changing from anger to astonishment. “A Verdance Keeper?”

Renjiro looked between them, confusion crossing his face. “A what?”

Kairro’s eyes stayed fixed on the boy. “He’s part of the Green Clan, Renjiro. The Verdance Keepers…