The sun was still high when the scouts left Amari.
Dust rose beneath their feet as they passed the last mud homes and moved toward the open stretch that led into the forest. The air shifted gradually — from warm and familiar to cool and unfamiliar.
Spears rested across their shoulders. Bows hung loosely at their sides, carried more for tradition than urgency. They were young — most of them barely past boyhood and they tried to look like men ready for war.
They laughed loudly as they walked.
As if sound itself could keep fear at a distance.
Kalu walked at the front.
"Why are you all walking like the forest will jump out and swallow you?"
he said with a grin.
"We're just looking. Not fighting spirits."
One of the boys snorted.
"Easy for you to say. You always think nothing can touch you."
Kalu shrugged.
"Nothing has yet."
Another leaned closer, lowering his voice.
"That's because the spirits like bold men."
"Or foolish ones,"
someone muttered.
They laughed again.
A thinner boy at the back glanced over his shoulder uneasily.
"I still don't like this," he said.
"My grandmother says when animals start dying without cause, it means the land is angry."
Kalu waved a hand dismissively.
"Your grandmother also says sneezing at night invites ghosts. Relax."
The group chuckled.
Then someone smirked.
"So, Kalu… is it true?"
Kalu raised an eyebrow.
"Is what true?"
"That Imani cried when she heard you were chosen to scout."
The boys erupted into teasing laughter.
Kalu scoffed, but his ears reddened slightly.
"She didn't cry."
"She did," another insisted.
"My sister said so."
"Well," the first boy added with a mischievous grin,
"if I were you, I'd hurry back. Can't keep the Hand of the King's daughter waiting."
Someone laughed.
Another said,
"Forget Imani. If I came back alive from this forest, I'd ask for the Princess herself."
"That one?" a voice replied immediately.
"You want to die?"
"I'd trade anything to have her in my bed."
The words landed sharply.
"Careful,"
Kalu cut in, voice firm now.
"That's the Princess you're talking about."
The laughter faltered for a brief second.
Then returned — louder, but thinner. Nervous. Forced.
They walked on.
Zaina was pacing.
The chamber felt too small. The walls too close.
Imani watched from the low stone bench, fingers twisting the fabric at her sleeve. She had learned long ago that Zaina's storms were not random, they built pressure before release.
"You're wearing a path into the floor," she said gently.
"They dismissed me," Zaina snapped.
"Again."
"They didn't dismiss you," Imani replied carefully. "They just—"
"They ignored me." Zaina stopped abruptly.
"There's a difference."
She ran a hand through her hair, frustration simmering beneath her skin.
"I told them it wasn't hunters. I told them something was wrong. And what did they do? They sent boys who think the forest is just trees."
"They're scouts," Imani said softly.
"They're children," Zaina corrected. "Brave, yes. Loyal, yes. But unprepared."
Imani hesitated before speaking again.
"You are… still grounded."
Zaina laughed — sharp, hollow.
"Grounded. Like the earth will swallow me if I step too far."
She leaned back against the wall, suddenly quieter.
"Do you know what it feels like, Imani? To see the problem clearly, understand it fully, and still be told to sit down because you're 'too much'?"
Imani looked away.
"I know what it feels like," she said softly,
"to be told to stay quiet."
Zaina's expression changed immediately.
Not defensive.
Understanding.
"I know you do."
For a moment, the room held stillness instead of tension.
The Queen stood alone in her chamber.
She had dismissed her attendants earlier. Now silence pressed in around her, heavy and unyielding.
She paced once.
Twice.
Then stopped at the window overlooking the distant forest line.
The trees appeared calm from here. Ordinary.
But she no longer trusted ordinary.
"They've left?"
she asked — though no one was present to answer.
Her fingers brushed the carved wooden charm hanging near her bedside. It was old. Worn smooth by time. A symbol of protection passed through generations.
A strange tightness gathered in her chest.
"They moved too late,"
she whispered.
Outside, the wind shifted direction.
By the time the scouts reached the sacred boundary, the sun was sinking.
The forest ahead looked darker than it should have at this hour. Its shadows pooled heavily between the trees, unmoving.
Even the birds had fallen silent.
Kalu slowed.
"Do you feel that?"
No one joked now.
They stepped closer.
The first sign was the stones.
Large boundary markers — carved with ancient protective symbols, lay cracked across the ground. Some were overturned. Others split cleanly.
One symbol had been slashed through entirely, the groove deep and deliberate, cutting straight across centuries old markings.
A boy swallowed hard.
"These were sealed."
Kalu crouched, running his fingers lightly over the disturbed soil.
His voice lowered.
"This didn't happen today."
Another scout whispered,
"Then we're not early."
Silence thickened.
"We're late," someone said.
A sound echoed deeper within the forest.
Not a roar.
Something lower.
Watching.
Kalu stood immediately.
"We report back," he said firmly.
"Now!!."
No one argued.
They turned toward Amari.
Zaina stopped pacing.
Her anger had burned through its peak.
What remained was sharper.
"I'm going to the forest," she said.
Imani's head snapped up instantly.
"No."
"Yes."
"You'll be punished."
"I already am."
Imani stood now, fear flashing across her face.
"Zaina, please. If they find out—"
"They won't," Zaina said.
"Not until I know what's wrong."
There was no hesitation in her voice anymore.
Only determination.
Imani exhaled slowly.
"What do you want me to do?"
Zaina met her gaze.
"Cover for me."
Imani closed her eyes briefly.
This was not rebellion for excitement.
This was loyalty.
She opened her eyes again.
"Fine," she whispered.
"But if you don't come back before dawn—"
"I will."
Zaina didn't let her complete the statement.
Imani didn't look convinced.
But she nodded.
The Queen froze mid step.
Her breath caught sharply.
"Zaina?"
No response.
Her heart began to beat faster.
She turned immediately, skirts brushing the floor as she moved swiftly through the corridor. The calm composure she wore in public vanished.
She reached her daughter's chamber and pushed the door open.
Imani stood inside.
Alone.
The Queen's voice was steady — but her eyes were not.
"Where….." she asked slowly,
"...is my daughter?"
Imani said nothing.
And far beyond the palace walls,
The forest waited.
Patiently