The caravan moved steadily through the forest trail, the sun filtering through the trees above in shifting patches of light. The woods were alive with the rustle of leaves and distant birdsong, a tranquil melody that matched the laughter of the travelers.

Mary and Lena walked alongside the central carriage, their pace unhurried as they shared quiet words.

“Your brother has so much energy,” Mary said with a fond smile, her gaze fixed on Theo.

“He always does,” Lena replied, grinning. “But look at Papa. He seems just as excited as Theo.”

Up ahead, John carried Theo on his shoulders, the boy reaching out to grab at the branches overhead. John was laughing, pretending to duck under imaginary obstacles, his voice ringing warmly through the air. Theo’s squeals of delight made the entire caravan seem lighter.

“I think Theo brings out his adventurous side,” Mary said softly.

Lena giggled, watching as John spun Theo around and set him down on the edge of the carriage. Theo scrambled onto the back, his small hands gripping the wooden frame as he glanced over his shoulder to smile at his mother and sister.

Behind them, Arlen sat in silence on the rear-most carriage, his expression distant. His eyes followed the shifting shadows between the trees, unblinking, as if seeing something no one else could.

But then the air shifted.

The lively forest seemed to hold its breath. Birds that had been singing moments ago went silent, and the rustling leaves stilled. It was subtle at first, but the unnatural quiet spread like a creeping shadow.

The adventurer at the front frowned, raising a hand to signal the caravan to stop. “Hold,” he called, his voice low but commanding. His sharp eyes scanned the trees, his fingers brushing the hilt of his sword. “Something’s off.”

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John immediately set Theo down, his demeanor shifting in an instant. The easy smile vanished from his face, replaced by steely focus. He crouched to meet Theo’s eyes.

“Go back to your mother. Stay with her,” he instructed, his tone firm.

Theo nodded, sensing the gravity of the moment. His usual cheerfulness gave way to seriousness as he turned to run back toward Mary and Lena.

But as he reached the gap between the carriages, his foot snagged on a loose strap. He fell hard, a startled cry escaping his lips.

“Theo!” Mary gasped, her heart leaping as she rushed toward him, Lena following close behind.

Before they could reach him, chaos erupted.

Bandits poured out of the trees ahead, their war cries shattering the forest’s fragile calm. Horses reared, their panicked cries mingling with the clash of steel and shouted orders. Group A surged forward, their wild charge meant to overwhelm and distract.

“Stay down!” one of the adventurers shouted, drawing his sword as John grabbed a staff from the side of the carriage.

Theo struggled to untangle his foot, his wide eyes darting between the bandits and his mother running toward him. Mary’s breaths came in frantic gasps as she knelt to pull him free.

But the panicked horses were beyond control. One bolted, its hooves thrashing wildly. Mary cried out as the animal struck her shoulder, the force sending her to the ground. Her head hit the hard earth with a sickening thud, and she went still.

“Mother!” Lena screamed, falling to her knees beside her.

John turned at the sound of Lena’s cry, his heart seizing as he saw Mary lying motionless. For a moment, he hesitated, torn between fighting off the attackers and rushing to his wife’s side. His grip tightened on the staff as rage and fear warred within him.

Meanwhile, Group B circled toward the rear, their goal the unguarded carriages. The guards and adventurers at the front were putting up more resistance than expected, and frustration was clear in the bandits’ frantic shouts.

“Quick! Grab what you can and move!” their leader barked, his voice sharp with irritation.

One of the bandits, scouring the last carriage for valuables, froze when he spotted Arlen. The boy sat quietly, his unflinching gaze fixed on the man. Something about the child’s calmness unsettled him, but greed quickly overtook hesitation.

“The kid,” he muttered, a glint of opportunity flashing in his eyes. “He’ll fetch a good price.”

Without a word, he climbed into the carriage and grabbed Arlen. The boy didn’t struggle or cry out, his unnerving stillness making the bandit’s heart pound faster. He hauled Arlen off and disappeared into the trees, unnoticed in the chaos.

At the front, John knelt beside Mary, gently shaking her. “Mary, wake up. Please,” he pleaded, his voice cracking. Theo and Lena clung to him, tears streaming down their faces as they huddled close to their unconscious mother.

The bandits began to retreat, their spoils fewer than they had hoped. Their leader’s frustrated orders rang out, urging his men to regroup.

As the forest grew quiet again, the injured were tended to, and the caravan slowly gathered itself. John held Mary close, whispering her name as he tried to rouse her. Theo and Lena stayed by his side, their tearful eyes darting around the disheveled caravan.

No one noticed the empty space at the rear.

No one realized the firstborn was missing.

Arlen was gone.