The group trudged through the swamp, knee-deep in thick mud and sloshing water that clung to their legs with every step. Agan could already feel the grit and wetness creeping into his boots, but he kept pace with Tarek, refusing to be the one who fell behind.

Garik, as usual, was just ahead, smirking over his shoulder. “Keep up, Agan. What, the mud too thick for you?”

Agan narrowed his eyes, gripping his staff a little tighter. “I’d keep up better if I didn’t have to look at your ugly back.”

Karu, walking a few paces behind them, let out a laugh. “Garik’s always gotta be ahead, doesn’t he? Thinks he’s a leader or something.”

Aska shot Karu a look, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Only because he’d complain about the view otherwise.”

Garik rolled his eyes, but Agan saw the flicker of a grin he tried to hide. He nudged past Garik, giving him a playful shove as he took the lead, earning a light-hearted shove back. There was an energy among them, a mix of tension and excitement as they ventured farther from Murkrest, deeper into the swamp.

After an hour of slogging through the mud, they arrived at a small rise, and Tarek held up a hand, signaling them to stop. He pointed ahead, his voice low but carrying.

“We’re entering Raksha territory. Stay alert and quiet. They keep an eye on everyone passing through.”

Nara scanned the swamp ahead, her usual calm replaced with something close to unease. “Are they really so territorial?” she whispered to Tarek.

Tarek nodded. “The Raksha protect their lands fiercely, especially lately. They’ve been on edge. Rumors of empire scouts have reached their ears, just like ours.”

Karu muttered something under his breath. “Great. Just what we need—empire troublemakers stirring up everything.”

Aska shot him a warning look, clearly aware of the Raksha’s sharp senses. “We’re guests in their land. Keep your voice down.”

Karu shrugged, but his expression turned serious. They continued forward, each of them moving with a little more care, every step deliberate. The air here felt heavier, filled with the scent of damp moss and something faintly metallic. A large, ancient tree loomed ahead, its roots curling over patches of rock and earth.

“Are we sure the Raksha won’t just—” Karu started, but he stopped abruptly as a figure appeared from behind the tree.

The Raksha warrior stood tall, his face streaked with mud and paint, eyes narrowed as he assessed them. He was armed, a spear resting against his shoulder, but he didn’t raise it. Instead, he gave a single nod to Tarek, who returned the gesture, then motioned for the group to continue on their way.

Agan’s heart hammered in his chest, but he kept his face neutral, unwilling to show any sign of nerves. Beside him, Garik had gone quiet, his gaze locked on the Raksha warrior until they had passed.

Once they were out of earshot, Karu let out a breath. “Didn’t think they’d just let us through like that.”

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Tarek shot him a glance. “They respect boundaries, as long as we respect theirs. Just remember that, and they’ll leave you alone.”

“Still,” Garik muttered, glancing over his shoulder, “I’d hate to be the one who crosses a line they don’t like.”

Aska shook her head, but Agan caught the flicker of a smile she tried to hide. “Try not to think about it. Just follow Tarek’s lead.”

The banter kept them moving, each of them casting glances at the shadows around them, half-expecting another Raksha scout to materialize out of the trees. But the swamp was silent, the only sounds the occasional croak of a frog or the distant rustle of leaves.

Finally, they reached a small clearing, where clusters of yellow-flowered plants covered the ground in patches. Tarek nodded toward them. “Celandine roots. Each of you, gather as many as your satchels can hold, and don’t crush the plants. They bruise easily.”

Agan knelt down, carefully digging around the roots to pull one free. The soil was thick and dark, clinging to his fingers as he worked. Nearby, Nara and Aska were already pulling up roots, their movements steady and practiced.

Garik grumbled as he wrestled with a particularly stubborn root. “This one’s as bad as Karu’s stubborn head.”

“Better watch out, Garik,” Karu retorted, holding up a perfectly intact root. “Looks like I’m winning this time.”

“Oh, it’s a competition now?” Garik said, grinning. “Fine, let’s see who gets the most without bruising a single one.”

Agan rolled his eyes but felt the same spark of competitiveness flicker within him. He focused on his own work, keeping his hands steady, determined not to let Garik get the upper hand—at least not without a fight.

Time slipped by, the quiet punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter and muttered complaints as the group filled their satchels. Agan’s hands were dark with dirt, his fingers aching, but he couldn’t help feeling a sense of satisfaction at each root he pulled free.

When they’d nearly finished, Tarek looked up, his gaze sharpening. He held up a hand, signaling for silence, and Agan froze, his heart skipping a beat.

A faint rustling sound came from the edge of the clearing, followed by a low growl. Agan’s grip tightened on the root he was holding as he scanned the trees, his eyes searching for the source of the sound.

There, crouched in the shadows, was a creature unlike any he’d seen before. It was low to the ground, its fur a dark, mottled brown that blended with the swamp’s colors. Its eyes gleamed in the dim light, fixed on them with a predator’s intensity.

“Back slowly,” Tarek whispered, his voice barely audible. “Do not make any sudden moves.”

The group obeyed, each of them stepping carefully, inching away from the creature. Agan’s pulse pounded in his ears, but he kept his movements slow, refusing to let fear take over.

Garik, beside him, was breathing shallowly, his gaze locked on the creature. “What is that?” he muttered under his breath.

“A swamp drake,” Aska murmured. “Small one, but still dangerous.”

The creature let out a low snarl, its gaze flicking between them. It didn’t seem ready to attack, but its stance was tense, its muscles coiled, as if it were waiting for an excuse to pounce.

Just as they were nearing the edge of the clearing, Karu’s foot caught on a root, and he stumbled, letting out a muffled curse as he caught himself.

The drake’s head snapped toward him, its eyes narrowing, and for a heart-stopping moment, it crouched lower, its gaze fixed on Karu.

Without thinking, Agan reached down, grabbing a handful of mud and flinging it at the creature. The mud splattered across its face, and the drake let out a startled growl, shaking its head as it backed up a step.

Tarek seized the opportunity, motioning for the group to move faster. “Go!”

They broke into a run, darting through the swamp as the drake’s snarls faded behind them. Agan’s heart hammered in his chest, but he didn’t stop, didn’t look back until they’d put a safe distance between themselves and the clearing.

When they finally stopped, each of them panting for breath, Karu let out a shaky laugh. “Well… that was close.”

Garik shook his head, grinning as he clapped Agan on the shoulder. “Nice throw. Guess I underestimated you.”

Agan gave him a quick nod, his own grin breaking through. “Guess you did.”

Aska rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face betrayed her amusement. “Maybe next time we can avoid getting that close.”

Tarek glanced back at the clearing, his gaze serious.