The mist was thicker than usual that morning, drifting low between the towering ancient trees like pale rivers of fog. Sunlight filtered through the canopy in narrow beams, but most of the forest floor remained shadowed and quiet.
Too quiet.
High above the forest floor, on the wooden platforms of Greenwood Village, the elves had already begun their morning watch.
No one said it out loud, but everyone knew why.
Today, the hunters would arrive.
---
Commander Aerion stood on the eastern observation platform, arms folded behind his back as he stared out across the sea of trees.
Two scouts stood nearby, their eyes scanning the forest carefully.
One of them shifted slightly.
"Commander."
Aerion didn't turn.
"Yes."
"I can feel the mana again."
Aerion nodded.
"So can I."
The second scout spoke quietly.
"They're close."
"How close?"
"…Less than a kilometer."
Aerion exhaled slowly.
"Closer than I expected."
The scout frowned.
