Agan shifted his weight, his eyes fixed on the narrow path ahead, where the morning mist hung thick over the swamp’s tangled branches. Tarek had sent him and his friends on another scouting mission, but this time, there had been no lightheartedness in his instructions. He’d spoken in a low voice, glancing toward the edges of Murkrest as if he expected the empire’s forces to appear at any moment.

“Keep to the shadows,” Tarek had said, his tone heavy with something Agan couldn’t quite name. “They’ve been sighted closer every day. I don’t want them seeing you.”

That warning echoed in Agan’s mind as he, Garik, Aska, and Karu moved through the dense undergrowth, their footsteps muffled by the damp earth. There was no usual banter today—just the quiet sounds of their breathing and the occasional snap of a twig. Every rustle felt amplified, every shadow deepened, as if the swamp itself sensed the danger looming beyond its borders.

Garik leaned over, his voice barely a whisper. “You feel it too, don’t you?”

Agan nodded, glancing back at him. “Feels like something’s waiting out there. Like it’s only a matter of time.”

Aska brushed her hand against a low-hanging vine, her gaze sharp as she scanned the shadows. “We’ve never scouted this close to the edge before. Whatever Tarek’s worried about, he must think it’s serious.”

Karu muttered under his breath, a hint of doubt creeping into his voice. “If they’re really that close, what’s the point in sending us out here? It’s not like we can stop them.”

Agan shot him a look, his jaw set. “We’re here to make sure they don’t surprise us. If you’d rather be hiding back in Murkrest, no one’s stopping you.”

Karu’s eyes flashed with anger, but he fell silent, his shoulders tensed. Agan felt a surge of frustration, but he pushed it down. They didn’t have time for arguments now, not with the empire’s shadow stretching closer with each passing day.

The group pressed on, moving carefully through the swamp until they reached a low rise that overlooked the outer edges of the village’s territory. Agan held up a hand, signaling for silence as he crouched, peering out over the landscape. His heart hammered in his chest as he spotted movement in the distance—a faint glint of metal, the unmistakable shape of soldiers moving through the fog.

He gestured for the others to look, his breath catching as he realized just how close the empire’s forces had come. Rows of soldiers were assembling, their armor catching the muted light, their movements precise and practiced. They formed lines as they advanced, their faces hard and unreadable, their steps unnaturally synchronized. And scattered among them were mages, their robes dark, their hands glowing faintly with gathering magic.

Aska swore under her breath. “There’s too many of them. They’ve come prepared.”

Garik’s gaze was fixed on the soldiers, his face set in grim determination. “Looks like Tarek was right. This isn’t just a show of force. They’re here to take us.”

Agan’s throat tightened as he took in the scene, the realization settling over him like a lead weight. Murkrest was vastly outmatched. Whatever defenses they’d managed to put together over the past weeks wouldn’t be enough. The empire wasn’t just poking around anymore—they were preparing for war.

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Karu shifted beside him, his voice low and uneasy. “If we go back and tell them, what can we even do? We’re just… a village. We don’t stand a chance.”

Agan’s fists clenched as he forced himself to keep his voice steady. “We don’t have to win. We just have to hold them off long enough for Murkrest to get everyone to safety.”

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken fear. Agan knew they were all thinking the same thing—that Tarek, Elder Saka, and the others would be preparing to stay, to protect the village with everything they had. And he knew, deep down, that he would be staying too.

A shout from below broke through his thoughts. One of the empire’s soldiers had turned, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the swamp. Agan froze, holding his breath as the soldier muttered something to his companion, pointing toward their hiding spot.

“Time to move,” Agan whispered, gesturing for the others to follow him.

They slipped back into the trees, moving as silently as they could, weaving between the shadows. Behind them, Agan could hear the soldiers’ voices growing fainter, their commands muffled by the swamp’s dense foliage. It was only when they were far enough that they slowed, catching their breath in silence.

Garik wiped his brow, his face pale. “We’re barely holding them off, Agan. If they hit us with everything they’ve got...”

Agan placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder, meeting his gaze. “Then we make them work for every inch they take.”

The words came out stronger than he felt, but he held onto them, forcing himself to believe it. He looked at each of his friends, seeing the same mix of fear and determination in their eyes. Whatever happened, they would stand together.

“Let’s get back,” Agan said, his voice low. “Tarek needs to know what we saw.”

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When they returned to Murkrest, the village was already buzzing with activity. The elders and warriors moved with purpose, reinforcing barricades and setting up defenses. Tarek was in the center of it all, barking orders as he worked beside the others, his movements quick and efficient.

Agan approached him, nodding in respect before delivering his report. “We saw them, Tarek. They’re close. More soldiers than we’ve ever seen. And mages too.”

Tarek’s jaw tightened, his gaze hardening as he absorbed the news. “Then it’s as we feared. They’re not holding back.”

He turned to the rest of the villagers, raising his voice so that it carried over the clamor. “Listen up! We’ve got one last chance to strengthen our defenses. Everyone who can fight, prepare yourselves. Those who can’t, gather in the center of the village. Elder Saka will guide you.”

The villagers sprang into action, their movements swift and purposeful. Agan and his friends joined them, helping to set up traps along the outskirts, fortifying the makeshift barricades with sharpened stakes and thorned vines. They worked in silence, each task a reminder of the battle that loomed on the horizon.

As the sun began to dip below the canopy, casting the village in a dim, eerie glow, Tarek gathered the defenders in a tight circle. His face was solemn, his voice steady as he addressed them.

“This is our home,” he said, his gaze sweeping over each of them. “And we’ll defend it with everything we’ve got. The empire might have numbers, they might have magic—but we have something they don’t. We know this land, and we fight for more than power. We fight for each other.”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the group, and Agan felt a flicker of hope spark within him. The empire’s forces might be overwhelming, but Murkrest had always endured against impossible odds. They had each other, and they had the swamp. That had to be enough.

As the villagers dispersed to their posts, Garik clapped Agan on the shoulder, his usual grin back in place despite the tension in his eyes. “We’ll make it through this, Agan. And when it’s over, we’ll have one hell of a story to tell.”

Agan managed a smile, though his heart was heavy. “Then let’s make sure it’s a good one.”

They took their places, the shadows growing deeper around them, the swamp settling into an uneasy silence. Agan gripped his spear, his gaze fixed on the path ahead, waiting for the first sign of movement.

In the quiet, he could hear the faint echoes of the village’s song from last night, the words of their ancestors woven into the air around him. The swamp was with them, its roots deep, its strength unyielding.

And when the empire finally broke through the mist, Agan was ready.