"Remarkably punctual, aren't you?" Cain addressed Glucia, standing from the tree stump he'd claimed as a throne in the clearing. His usual attire of worn, brown leather stood out against the sea of emerald that carpeted the forest floor.

"And I could say the same about you." Glucia responded, a wry smile playing at her lips. The nostalgia in her voice was palpable as she added, "This place, pretty quaint of you to pick this as our meeting place. It brings me back.”

The morning still clung to the fringes of night; fading stars pricked the dim sky, and the horizon blushed softly, anticipating the sun. The air was sharp, imbued with the rich aroma of damp foliage. Dew-kissed blades of grass winked in the half-light.

Glucia's gaze snapped back to Cain, drawn to the dark circles under his eyes. “How long have you been here?” she asked, her tone mingling concern with curiosity.

With a mild shrug, Cain replied, his voice betraying a cocktail of anticipation and apprehension. “I couldn't sleep, too exited for our mission I guess. Remember the time we came here with our teachers? This is different. It's just us. I can't help but feel a thrill.”

His gaze found hers, “And what brings you here at this ungodly hour?”

“I couldn't sleep either,” she confessed, pointing towards her overstuffed backpack, “My mind's a whirlwind of checklists and thoughts. Woke up way too early, figured I might as well be productive.”

As a mighty yawn seized her, she conceded, "Though a nap does sound tempting. I think I'll snatch a quick nap before we leave,"

"You might as well," Cain consented, reclaiming his perch on the stump.

Glucia climbed up a nearby tree with familiar movements, resting on the gnarled blanket of leaves as if fully confident of their ability to hold her. Her lithe body found comfort on the leafy platform, unfazed by the height. Settling into the leaf-strewn perch, she seemed as much a part of the tree as any animal.

"Keep your balance there, dont fall. You've put on a few," Cain teased, his smirk hidden in the shadows.

"And you've grown a backbone," she shot back, stretching out on the branch, her eyelids growing heavy.

The only sound that filled the tranquil silence was the rhythmic chirping of rubbercrickets.

The words fell from the tree canopy like a leaf on a light breeze, “Do you think we’ll be okay?”

Cain's gaze trailed to the distant, untouched wilderness. "We're filling the shoes of adulthood, Glucia. It's our time to fend for ourselves, to face the brutal realities that stand in our the path. Life is harsh, but we need to endure if we wish to grow."

A faint whimper echoed from above. "What if something happens to us, to you or Osirc? What if... What if I never come back to my parents?"

In a quiet gesture, Cain plucked a lone flower from his wooden seat, its petals brimming with resilience. "This is our rite of passage, Glucia. We've lived under the protection of our village for years. Now it's time for us to build our strength so that we we may do the same for the ones that come after us. We have to stand firm. Akin to lamp against the crushing boulder of reality."

The sunrise began to wrestle the darkness away. The lingering mist succumbed, surrendering to the warm embrace of morning's light.

***

Glucia found herself jerked from the embrace of sleep. Nestled within the leafy cradle of her tree-bed, she stirred groggily, squinting against the dappled sunlight that had crept in through the overhead canopy.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Below her, Cain stood with a lazy, expectant smile, his hand still raised from jostling the tree trunk.

Fumbling against the residual weight of sleep, Glucia rubbed her eyes, muscles protesting the wake-up call. "What's the rush?" she muttered, her voice still garbed in sleep. "I was having such a good dream.”

“All of us are here. We’re ready to go,” Cain stated, his tone brisk.

Glucia's eyes widened, and she sprang into action, sliding down the tree with nimble movements. She scooped up her overstuffed backpack and began marching toward the edge of the clearing. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get going!"

“That’s a little too fast,” Osric remarked, bemused.

“She’s quite the energetic one,” commented an unfamiliar face spoke.

Cain stepped forward, tugging Glucia's backpack, bringing her back to the clearing with a shake of his head. "Before we charge into the wild, we need a briefing." He pointed at the two unfamiliar faces in the group. "And introductions are in order."

As Glucia and Cain assembled the group, two strangers stood amidst the familiar faces.

Cain began with the stranger who had spoken earlier, "Everyone, this is Preston." Standing tall, Preston commanded an immediate presence. He had a rugged appearance, with tousled blond hair and a thin-cut beard. His piercing blue eyes highlighted by a small scar on his brow.

Stepping forward, Preston greeted the group with an affable grin and a casual wave. "Hello, mates. Here's to hoping we make a solid team."

As everyone nodded, Cain directed their attention to the other newcomer – a petite girl whose silver hair was woven into an intricate braid, adorned with delicate beads. "And this is Hilda. She's Elder Aretas's daughter."

Surprise rippled through the group at the introduction.

Hilda acknowledged the group with a serene smile, her fist gently thudding against her chest in a gesture of respect. "May the Hearthguard dwell in your home,” she intoned.

"May he guide you to safety," the group responded in unison.

With introductions out of the way, Cain drew the group closer, his expression serious. “We will be risking our lives together, so we need to know more about each other, especially now since it’s our first time working together. Time to lay our cards on the table. I’ll go first.”

He took a step forward, assuming the mantle of transparency. “My competency is 82%, and I am currently specialize tendon refining. My weapon of choice is the sword, precision being my strong point. I'll be serving as the vanguard of the group."

Glucia took a deep breath, stepping into the circle next. She mustered a semblance of confidence as she spoke, "My competency is 76%, and I am doing specialize brain refinement. I use a slingshot. I will be the navigator through the wilderness. I'll be taking on the role of the pathfinder."

Preston was next. There was a buoyant lilt to his voice that somewhat cut through the tense atmosphere, " Competency 63%, and I'm a general blood refiner. This," he gestured to the weapon hitched to his hip with a boyish grin, "is my partner in crime, and I'll be your reliable rear guard."

Hilda, Elder Aretas's daughter, then introduced herself. Her voice was steady, belying a maturity that seemed to stretch beyond her years, " 79%. I'm currently a general muscle refiner. As for my weapon, it's undecided, so for now, I'm using a rapier." Her eyes flicked to the slender blade sheathed at her side, "I'll be holding the flank."

Osric had been observing the exchange with keen interest. He surveyed Cain thoughtfully, “He’s got an inkling of a good leader." When Hilda finished, he turned to address the group.

"As for me, my competency is 58%, and I also am doing blood refining. I've chosen the spear as my weapon of choice and will serve as the skirmisher, keeping our enemies at bay."

Pleased with the result, Cain gave a satisfied nod, "I'm glad we all know our roles."

“Now that’s out of the way. Let’s talk about the mission.” Cain sat down on the ground, opening an intricately sketched map from his bag. “Our mission is simple: collection.”

He traced his fingers along their route, “We'll tread the perimeter of the forest, follow the village's traplines, and head to the Mellowpines Quarry to harvest Moonwine Vines and perhaps some Newtwater Parchment if we're lucky.” He rolled up the map, tucking it securely in his bag. “Our priority is safety. Anything else is a bonus. Remember not to get greedy. Our priority is safety.” Cain looked around the group, "Any questions?"

Preston raised his hand. "What if we get separated?"

"If that happens, we have checkpoints marked along the route. We meet up there. If unsuccessful, the smaller group aborts the mission and returns to the village," Cain explained.

“And our formation?” Hilda queried.

“We switch between defense and offense. Defense is our default. When I call for offense,” Cain paused, looking at Preston.

"I transition from rear guard to skirmisher,” Preston supplied promptly.

“Precisely.”

The group fell into silence, absorbing the information.

“Then let’s head out,” Cain declared.

As the words hung in the air, a cool breeze swept through the group, bringing with it the morning chill.