Isyd walked past ruins and crumbling walls scattered amidst woods and shrubs. Those big stones overgrown with lich were the last remnants of a time when Vilriver only consisted of the Inside and needed fortifications in addition to the River to defend against foreign invaders. Centuries later, the walls had been brought down and the population had spilt over the River and formed the Outside. The forest through which Isyd was now trudging was found on the opposite side of the Outside, after crossing the Little Stream. This was the colloquial name given to the tributary of the River that branched off upstream of Vilriver before rejoining it downstream, forming thusly the islet of the Inside. Truth be told, the Little Steam was not a strict demarcation of Vilriver borders as shown by how the gardens of the Kazkan manor or the Fields of the Academy eventually melded into the forest after a certain distance.

After crossing the Little Stream, Isyd followed it closely downstream at the confluent. More by reflex than anything, he had kept his senses opened and listened intently to the Song of the Grace all around him. Contrary to what could be believed, the forest wasn’t more silent that the city. The woods were full of life; birds and rodents as well as the trout and other amphibians in the water made it distracting for Isyd to focus. Still, he kept a distracted awareness of his pursuers in the back of his mind as he forced his way through the wilderness.

At first, Isyd had made sure to not go too far too fast and let them trail behind him a few paces behind, until the moment they jumped past the Little Stream. There, Isyd had quickened his pace and in the absence of a well-trodden path, the three thieves had quickly lost track of him.

Isyd had used this chance to scout the area ahead. After a while spent going in circles without finding him, the thieves had regrouped around the point they had first lost track of him and were discussing what to do next. What they didn’t know was that Isyd had actually walked back and approached them. He kept a few paces between him and them and crouched behind a fallen tree. This is where Naeht came to find him.

“So, you got anything?” he asked her.

“They aren’t experienced in tracking as you suspected,” she said. “Also, they call each other silly nicknames! Owl, Magpie, Crow? Who came up with that? Anyway, I think they decided to split up and search for you! One upstream, one stays around here and one goes downstream!”

Isyd nodded. He had hoped for them to separate and had prepared several plans to make it happen. As it turned out, they had done it on their own. He couldn’t fault them; it was the logical decision to cover the most ground when hunting in an unfamiliar environment. Unfortunately for them, the thieves had failed to consider one thing.

They were not the hunters; they were the hunted.

Isyd first followed the man who had headed upstream – he they called “Crow” apparently. His darkveil had been tailored made for trailing in the woods. Darkveils were the distinct attribute of the Rangers charged to roam the Black Forest at the western frontier of the Commonwealth. With his darkveil, Isyd was basically invisible and he didn’t need to bother with an [Illusory Spell] to hide, which was a good thing because he notably sucked at casting them.

Trailing only a few meters behind his prey, Isyd carefully watched Crow as he got further and further from his companions. More than once, Isyd saw him look at his wrist as if checking the hour on his watch. Isyd knew that it wasn’t a watch but instead a small [Arcane] that housed a [Shielding Arcane]. Naeht had spied on them as they slightly modified it so that it would still detect incoming attack [Spells] but would no longer activate the shield. By walking around forward, the thieves now used the [Arcane] as a mean to detect the presence of a nearby [Illusory Spell] or a trap.

Unfortunately for them, Isyd didn’t really need to use any of the Arts to fight them. Isyd was well aware of how many Artysta were too reliant on their [Spells] and their [Arcanes] and were unable to do anything without them. Arguably, it was this fact more than the [Taint] that cost so much Artyst lives against the Obcys. Isyd had not learned the Arts in any formal way, and therefore he had spent a significant part of his life without them.

As he followed Crow, Isyd fell back into habits he’d been taught so long ago. It consisted of an economy of movements, of breath, of thoughts. He was like the wolf trailing the deer. Silent. Driven. Creeping ever closer until it was the distance was just right…

Isyd’s attack was abrupt and decisive. Crow turned at the sudden sound, wand raised, just in time to have a hand crushing his throat. He tried to cast a [Spell], but Isyd slid past him and seized him in a chokehold with one arm while the other pinned the hand holding the wand in his back. Crow guttered a cry of pain and struggled to get Isyd off his back. He tried to smash him against a trunk but Isyd tackled his legs under him and they both fell to the ground, Isyd still atop. Then, methodically and without hesitation, Isyd seized Crow’s forearm, pressed on the shoulder and twisted.

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In the dead of the night, the crack of the bones was audible. Crow’s cry of pain was muffled against the dirt and fallen leaves. Not wasting time, Isyd picked up the linen bag he’d been carrying and used it to gag the man. He then lifted him by his tunic despite Crow’s struggles to get free; Isyd was so much stronger physically that it looked like a child struggling against an adult.

Isyd smashed him against a tree and launched a [Hex]. Slowly, before he could realize what has happened to him, Crow felt as if he was sinking into the wood. Surprise quickly turned into sheer panic as he fell deeper and deeper into the tree. He whirled his head, tried to shout, to kick, to bite. His attempts were futile; with a single arm, Isyd kept him down and pushed him further. The bark ate at Crow’s clothes, fusing until they almost appeared to be one and the same.

“Do not worry, this is not permanent,” Isyd told Crow. At last, the man didn’t seem like he could sink in further. Gagged, he could only move his head and his hand while the rest of his body was trapped inside the wooden prison.

Isyd turned his attention to the [Arcane] at the man’s wrist. It was going wild as it felt Isyd’s [Hex]. Isyd touched it and closed his eyes to better focus; he listened to the Song of the Grace and tried to understand what composed that specific [Arcane] and imprinted it in his mind. Once that was done, Isyd stepped aside and walked away. It was time for him to go the second of the thieves.

That man – Naeht called him “Owl” – had been told to stay put while his comrades went up and downstream. Thus, Isyd found him where he had left him. As he approached, Isyd began crafting a [Hex]. It was an [Air Spell], invisible and without any purpose but to trigger the [Detecting Arcane] on Owl’s wrist. Inside the [Air Spell], Isyd rearranged the Balance of the Commands in a way to match the Song of the Grace he had gleaned earlier. As a last touch, Isyd stretched the [Spell] so that it turned into a floating, invisible ribbon from where left Crow to where Owl was standing. He then activated the [Spell].

Without fail, Owl’s [Arcane] immediately went off. It detected the Isyd’s [Spell] but more importantly than that, it was now synchronized on it as the Songs of the Grace matched perfectly. First startled, Owl quickly regained his composure and began searching for what could have triggered his [Arcane]. He walked around trying to figure out which direction to follow. By paying attention to the varying intensity of detection, Owl slowly but surely trailed after the Isyd’s [Spell] and headed toward Crow without realizing it.

It took him a while but eventually, Owl arrived around Crow’s level. His wand was raised, ready to cast a [Spell] at a moment’s notice. That’s when he first heard the muffled sounds. By then, he stopped looking at his wrist and followed the sounds by ear. Then he saw him.

In the darkness of the night, Owl didn’t understand immediately what he was seeing. From the tip of his wand, he cast a [Lighting Spell] to illuminate his surroundings. His heart dropped in his chest.

“Good Grace!” Owl shouted. “C-Crow?”

The man fused inside the tree could only flail his head around, eyes wide in terror and pain.

“Fuck! W-what happened? Wait, I’ll get you out!”

Crow’s muffled words only became more frantic and his eyes turned even wider.

“What is it? Wait, I’ll get that shit out!” Owl said. He approached his friend and with a bit of struggle, managed to partially ungag him.

“What happened to you? Who did that to you? Was it…” Owl began.

“R…Run!” Crow shouted feebly, face frowning in pain. “RUN!”

“What? What do you mean…?”

A sudden sound made Owl’s hair stand up and his mouth turn dry. He whirled around and launch a quick [Spell]. A [Fire Ball] spewed from his wand and singed the nearby tree. Nothing else moved. Convinced that he was letting his nerves get to him, Owl let out a sigh of relief and turned back toward Crow.

He thus failed to notice, Isyd as he fell upon him from above.