As Lila marched over the familiar terrain on yet another deep patrol mission, she couldn't help but wonder why they still even bothered to waste time on that. It had been years since an undead was encountered the last time. These beasts clearly didn't want to have anything in common with humans anymore. Centuries had passed since the Fall, and although there was a brief period of all-out war, there had been minimal interaction between the two races that have now shared this world.

The Elders kept rambling on about ‘vigilance’—like chasing shadows in broad daylight, if you asked her, especially when it came to the undead. If encountered, their every move had to be monitored closely. Supposedly, they were dangerous and unpredictable. Not that they saw them often. Or ever. That "if encountered" part was the most important, right? What were the odds?

Let's say they truly wanted to keep the undead at bay. Wouldn't it be more reasonable to get closer to the places of their concentration? Like the legendary Old Cities, where danger lurked around every corner? Lila had never been there, but old rangers loved to tell stories if you offered them a free beer.

That should be a worthy mission for experienced rangers like Lila. But they never went there.

In recent years, though, something has made the Elders change their stance. Now, any undead they found had to be delivered back to Mountain View, supposedly for observation and experiments. And Lila couldn't help but think there was more to the story than what the Elders were letting on.

Every time she thought about that, a neverending procession of questions swirled in her mind, begging for answers that never seemed to come. All she got whenever she dared to ask were stern glares, and disapproving hushes. As if she were an insolent child. It didn't matter that she was a highly trained professional with over ten years of experience. In town's power structure, she was just a mere cog in the machine. Expected to blindly follow orders from her superiors without questioning their opinions or commands.

Years have passed since her first mission outside of their small town. It happened when she was twenty. And even though her tendency to question authority had landed her in this position, reporting directly to Korin, she couldn't really complain. He was competent enough, and the job was better than most, even with Korin's almost one-dimensional approach to leadership.

The current patrol was monotonous, nine days without anything even mildly entertaining. Their final objective was to check a series of old, abandoned cabins in the Southern Forest. There was a small town here before the Fall. And while it was unlikely for the undead to visit these ruined structures, it was worth checking for any signs of activity. Nowadays, most of their problems were caused not by the undead but by humans. Not all of them lived in the towns. And then, the relations between human settlements were not always entirely peaceful.

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With an effort, Lila stopped daydreaming and carefully scanned her surroundings. A lot of time passed since patrolling had become second nature to her, but sometimes, she got distracted. And it was good practice to stay focused on the task at hand. Even while Lila didn't expect anything unusual to happen, her job was to be vigilant.

The forest was full of autumn colors as the trees shed their vibrant leaves onto the ground. The aroma of decaying foliage filled the air, adding a hint of sharp sweetness to the crisp atmosphere. Everything seemed normal. Boring. She punched through a pile of leaves, earning disapproving glares from her fellow patrol members.

"Bones and bark, this is ridiculous,” she muttered. “Same old forest trails, same old shadows. We’ve been scaring off more foxes than undead out here.”

Lila took another deep breath to relish the smell of the forest. But then, she stopped abruptly, signing to the others to follow her example. There was something there. A scent that was out of place.

"What's wrong?" Korin said impatiently.

Lila spoke in a hushed but urgent tone. “I smell smoke,” she murmured, eyes narrowing. “Forest wit would tell ya, no one lights a fire this close to the town...unless they’re on a patrol or up to no good.”

"I hope it's not just your imagination," said Korin. "You just were so sure that we are alone."

But Lila knew better. Her sharp senses never failed her, especially in situations like this. Stress always heightened her perception.

Without another word, the rangers cautiously followed Lila toward the source of the scent. As they neared an old cabin, Lila's suspicions were confirmed as barely noticeable smoke rose above its half-ruined roof. Someone was inside, probably breaking the law and endangering themselves and others.

Lila got closer to the building, trying to look inside and see through the cracks in the wall. The fire almost went out by that moment, the dying embers making the shadows shift inside. It was hard to see who was there—a human or...?

But it should have been a human. It was common knowledge that the undead weren’t supposed to have any technology or even mastery of fire. It was common knowledge.

Suddenly, the fire woke up briefly, the last drops of conifer resin fueling it. And Lila saw a person curled near it, catching the retreating warmth.

Lila gestured for everyone to step back. When they were at a safe distance, she explained: "Hard to say who it is. But they started a fire, it can't be an undead, right?"

"The procedure is the same, no matter what," said Korin. "We capture them first, check whether it's a human or an undead, and decide later. We can't leave here without making sure."

"Are you really going to capture it, if it's undead, or...?" said Lila.

"You know the tradition," answered Korin. "It demands we kill it."

"But you also remember the orders of the Elders, right?" asked Lila.

"Bind her tight," said Korin noncommittally. "Let’s call the foxes and haul her back before she starts spitting sparks or something."