"Rangers," Alfen called, his voice cutting through the ambient noise of the courtyard. "Form up."

  The response was immediate, and the rangers moved into formation. Val took his position at the head of his squad, Elara falling in beside him, followed by Aric and Lian. Around them, other squads organized similarly, creating a neat grid that filled the courtyard.

  Alfen surveyed the assembled company with a critical eye, then nodded once in apparent satisfaction. "Before we begin the deployment briefing, we have new members joining our ranks." He gestured to the recruits who stood at rigid attention behind him. "These rangers have completed their initial training and will fill positions in our depleted squads."

  Val studied the newcomers with interest. Six of them, three men and three women, all looking to be in their early twenties. Their faces showed the mingled excitement and trepidation of fresh recruits facing their first real assignment. Val remembered that feeling, the blend of pride and terror that came with donning the ranger's gear for the first time.

  "They've been accelerated through final training due to our current crisis," Alfen continued, his tone making it clear he wasn't entirely pleased with this compromise. "What they lack in field experience, they'll make up for in enthusiasm and the guidance of their squad leaders." He fixed the veterans with a pointed look. "I expect every one of you to ensure they learn quickly and stay alive."

  Alfen turned to the recruits. "Step forward when I call your name and join your assigned squad." He consulted a small scroll in his hand. "Jens Riverstone."

  A compact, wiry man with a shaved head and meticulously maintained beard stepped forward. His movements were precise, suggesting previous military training.

  "Squad Three under Sergeant Mara," Alfen directed.

  The recruit moved smartly to where Mara stood at the head of her squad, taking position at the rear of the formation.

  "Kitra Hawkeye."

  A tall woman with auburn hair and alert amber eyes moved forward. She carried herself with the confidence of someone accustomed to the wilderness, and Val noticed calluses on her hands that spoke of long practice with a bow.

  "Squad Five under Toren."

  Kitra nodded and moved to join Toren's squad, her gaze sweeping the assembled rangers as if memorizing faces.

  "Daven Corley."

  A lean man with brown hair and fingers stained with ink stepped forward. He moved with an economy of motion that suggested a methodical nature.

  "Squad Two under Kaelen."

  Daven acknowledged the assignment with a curt nod, joining Kaelen's squad without fanfare.

  "Thalia Briarwood."

  A composed woman with copper-colored hair kept in a tight bun stepped forward. Her amber eyes missed nothing, and the way she carried herself suggested formal training of some kind.

  "Squad Three under Sergeant Mara."

  Thalia moved to her position, exchanging a brief nod with Jens as she joined the same squad.

  "Lissa Merritt."

  A compact, muscular woman with short-cropped blonde hair and piercing blue eyes stepped up. Her stance was unmistakably military, and she scanned the rangers with an evaluating gaze.

  "Squad Five under Toren."

  Lissa moved to her assigned position, standing at perfect attention once she reached Toren's squad.

  "Kira Blackthorn."

  The final recruit, a wiry, athletic woman with honey-brown skin and curly black hair cut practically short, stepped forward. A white scar bisected her left eyebrow, stark against her complexion. Her eyes held a sharp intelligence that immediately impressed Val.

  "Squad Three under Sergeant Mara."

  Inside the briefing hall, a large map table dominated the center of the space. Detailed maps of Yelden Valley had been spread across its surface, with markers indicating settlements, known danger zones, and patrol routes. Rangers gathered around, squad leaders ensuring their teams had clear views.

  Val positioned his squad near the section of the map showing Clearwater and its surrounding territory. Aric and Lian flanked him, with Elara completing their small circle. Across the table, he noticed Master Rhalla enter the room, the life aether master's gaze sweeping the assembled rangers before settling on Val with an enigmatic smile.

  Captain Alfen moved to the head of the table, waiting as the last of the rangers filed in. When all were present, he placed both hands on the table's edge, leaning forward to address the company.

  "Our assignment is Clearwater," he began without preamble, jabbing a finger at the settlement marked on the map. "Two-day journey north from Oakspire, population approximately ten thousand. It's a key location for several reasons: access to fresh water, shipbuilding facilities that we'll need for reconstruction efforts, and strategic position as a buffer between the northern territories and Oakspire itself."

  He traced a route along the map with his finger. "We'll take the Northern Road, securing it as we go. Army Company Five will follow a day behind us with additional supplies and reinforcements. Our primary objectives are threefold: First, secure the settlement and prepare it for potential siege. Second, establish regular patrols of the surrounding territory to monitor undead activity. Third, maintain communication lines with Oakspire through ranger relay stations."

  Alfen's scarred face grew more severe as he continued. "Make no mistake: this is not a routine patrol. Intelligence suggests coordinated undead activity throughout the valley, similar to what we witnessed at Willow Creek. Every major settlement is being reinforced in a similar manner, with ranger companies and army units deployed in a defensive perimeter around Oakspire."

  He swept his hand across the southern portion of the map. "The southern valley, which houses the majority of our population, is reporting heavy contact with undead forces. Riverbend has already been attacked twice but has held so far. Highfields and Fallhaven have been reinforced, and Evergreen has been evacuated due to its indefensible position."

  "Our mission at Clearwater is to hold the settlement if possible," Alfen continued, his voice hard with resolve. "But I want to be absolutely clear: if the position becomes untenable, we evacuate the population and withdraw to Oakspire. No heroic last stands, no sacrificial delays. The priority is preserving lives.

  He looked around the room, making eye contact with each squad leader in turn. "We've already lost too many good rangers. I don't intend to lose any more without absolute necessity."

  Val met Alfen's gaze steadily when it fell on him, acknowledging the captain's message with a slight nod. After Willow Creek, they all understood the reality of their situation. Pride and heroics had no place when facing an enemy that could overwhelm through sheer numbers and unrelenting persistence.

  "Now," Alfen said, his tone shifting to more practical matters, "let's discuss the specifics of our deployment."

  For the next hour, Alfen detailed their mission parameters, patrol routes, and contingency plans. He assigned specific tasks to each squad, taking into account their strengths and the experience levels of their members. Val's squad, with its balanced composition of tracking, healing, and combat skills, was tasked with long-range reconnaissance to the east of Clearwater, where the terrain grew increasingly wild as it approached the Deadlands border.

  As the briefing concluded, Alfen straightened from his position at the table. "Finalize preparations and personal matters. Squad leaders, ensure your teams are fully equipped and that new members understand their roles. Dismissed."

  The rangers dispersed, moving in small groups toward equipment stores or personal quarters. Val gathered his squad with a gesture, leading them to a quiet corner of the hall where they could speak privately.

  "Thoughts?" he asked, looking at each of them in turn.

  Elara spoke first, her healer's practicality evident in her concerns. "I'll need to requisition additional supplies. If we're running extended patrols east of Clearwater, we'll be far from support if anyone's injured."

  Val nodded. "Make a list of what you need, and I'll ensure it's prioritized."

  "The terrain east of Clearwater gets rough quickly," Lian observed, his quiet voice carrying the authority of someone who knew the wilderness intimately. "Lots of ravines and deadfalls. Good places for ambushes."

  "That's why they're sending us and why we didn't get any fresh recruits," Val acknowledged. "We know how to move through difficult terrain without being detected." He turned to Aric. "Any concerns?"

  The young ranger considered for a moment. "Just wondering about our communication plans. If we're operating that far from Clearwater, how do we maintain contact? Signal arrows have limited range, and messengers would be exposed."

  It was a good question, showing Aric's growth as a ranger. "We'll establish rally points and regular check-in schedules," Val explained. "And we'll have fallback positions if we need to retreat quickly."

  The discussion continued as they refined their understanding of the mission, each member contributing insights based on their specialties. Val was pleased with their focus; despite the losses they'd suffered and the dangers ahead, his squad remained professional and determined.

  As they finished their planning session, Val noticed Master Rhalla hovering nearby, clearly waiting for an opportunity to speak with him. "Get started on those preparations," Val told his squad. "We'll reconvene at the barracks this evening to finalize everything."

  As the others dispersed, Val approached Rhalla, curious about what the life aether master wanted. The mage greeted him with a friendly nod.

  "Ranger Hearne," Rhalla said, his voice pitched low enough that nearby rangers couldn't overhear. "I wanted to catch you before you got too caught up in preparations. Grandmaster Linden asked me to provide whatever assistance I can during this deployment, both with your... unique situation and with the general mission."

  Val studied the mage, noting the earnest expression. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm still not entirely comfortable discussing my 'situation' with others. Especially not in the field where there are more immediate concerns."

  Rhalla nodded, seeming to take no offense at Val's caution. "I understand completely. Just know that I'm available if you need guidance or support. Life aether is my specialty, and from what Linden told me, that's precisely what you're dealing with."

  "What exactly did Linden tell you?" Val asked, curiosity overcoming his reticence.

  "That you've manifested unusual abilities," Rhalla replied, his eyes brightening with scholarly enthusiasm. "It's fascinating from an academic perspective, but I imagine rather unsettling to experience firsthand. You positively radiant life aether."

  Val couldn't help but agree with that assessment. "Unsettling is one word for it," he admitted. "But now isn't the time for experimentation or training. We have a mission, and that takes priority."

  "Of course," Rhalla agreed readily. "I'm a mage first, but I've been trained for field operations. I won't be a liability to your company, I promise."

  There was something disarming about Rhalla's earnest manner that made Val relax slightly. "Have you been assigned to a specific squad?"

  "Captain Alfen suggested I rotate between squads as needed, providing support where my abilities can be most useful," Rhalla explained. "Though given Linden's interest in your situation, I suspect I'll be working with your squad more often than not."

  Val nodded, accepting the reality of the situation. "Just remember that in the field, ranger protocols take precedence. We move quietly, strike decisively, and prioritize the mission above individual concerns."

  "Understood," Rhalla said with a quick smile. "I've been thoroughly briefed on ranger operations. I may be more useful than you expect."

  With a final nod, Val left the mage and headed toward the equipment stores to check on his own gear. The rest of the day passed in a blur of preparations: weapons were sharpened, armor was mended, supplies were packed and repacked for optimal distribution. Val moved between tasks with focused efficiency, ensuring his own readiness while also checking on his squad members.

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  By late afternoon, satisfied that all necessary preparations had been completed, Val decided to return to his small house in the lower city. There were personal matters to attend to before tomorrow's departure, and he wanted time to gather his thoughts away from the constant activity of the barracks.

  In his bedroom, Val pulled out a small wooden chest from beneath his bed. Inside lay the few personal treasures he owned: his parents' wedding rings, a dagger that had belonged to his brother, a collection of pressed leaves from significant places he'd visited throughout Yelden Valley. He closed the chest without removing anything; these items were safer here than on the dangerous mission ahead.

  Next, Val retrieved the manual that Grandmaster Linden had given him, carefully wrapping it in oilcloth to protect it from the elements before placing it in his pack. The dense, academic text had proven challenging to understand, but Val was determined to study it when opportunities arose during the deployment. If there were answers about his changing abilities hidden in those pages, he needed to find them.

  With his personal preparations complete, Val realized he had one last stop to make before returning to the barracks. He needed to say goodbye to Baret and ask him to relay a message to Alea. There wasn't time to visit the academy and find her directly, which would likely earn him an earful when they next met, but he couldn't leave without ensuring she knew where he'd gone.

  The streets of Oakspire's lower city were busier than usual as Val made his way toward The Burning Branch. Refugees from outlying settlements mingled with citizens, creating a sense of crowded tension that hadn't existed before the attacks began. Val noticed increased guard presence as well, Oakspire's defenders keeping watchful eyes on the swelling population.

  The Burning Branch stood on a corner where two moderately busy streets intersected, its sturdy timber construction and well-maintained facade a testament to Baret's care over the years. As Val approached, he could hear the familiar sounds of conversation and laughter spilling from the open windows, a heartening reminder that life continued even amidst crisis.

  Inside, the tavern was comfortably full but not crowded. Regulars occupied their usual tables, while a scattering of newcomers, likely refugees from recent attacks, sat in quieter corners, their expressions still bearing the shadows of their experiences. Baret himself stood behind the bar, his substantial frame moving with well-practiced efficiency as he filled orders and greeted customers.

  The tavern keeper spotted Val almost immediately, his weathered face breaking into a warm smile. "Val! Over here, lad." He gestured to an empty stool at the far end of the bar.

  Val made his way through the room, exchanging nods with familiar faces as he passed. He settled onto the stool, accepting the mug of ale that Baret placed before him without asking.

  "Deploying?" Baret asked, his keen eyes noting Val's ranger attire and the subtle signs of preparation.

  Val nodded, taking a grateful sip of the ale. "Clearwater. Two-day journey north."

  Baret studied him for a moment, then nodded once, decisively. "You'll need a proper meal before you go. And supplies." Without waiting for a response, he moved toward the kitchen, calling orders to his staff.

  Val smiled slightly. Baret's response to any crisis had always been the same: ensure everyone was well-fed and prepared. It was an approach to caretaking that Val had come to appreciate over the years.

  While Baret was busy in the kitchen, Val took the opportunity to observe the tavern's patrons. Most were engaged in their own conversations, but he noticed a few watching him with the wary respect typically afforded to rangers. In times of crisis, rangers symbolized both protection and the harsh realities beyond Oakspire's walls.

  Baret returned with a loaded plate: roast beef, potatoes, and fresh greens from his private garden. The aroma made Val's stomach growl, reminding him that he'd eaten little since the previous evening.

  "Eat," Baret instructed firmly, placing the plate before Val. "And don't argue about paying. Not with you heading out tomorrow."

  Val knew better than to protest. He ate with the focused appreciation of someone who understood that good meals were not guaranteed in the field. The beef was perfectly cooked, seasoned with herbs that complemented rather than overwhelmed the natural flavor. The potatoes were crisp on the outside, fluffy within, and the greens provided a fresh counterpoint to the richer elements of the meal.

  As Val ate, Baret busied himself with other customers, giving him space to enjoy the food without interruption. Only when Val had finished did the tavern keeper return, collecting the empty plate with a satisfied nod.

  "Need to ask a favor," Val said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Could you let Alea know where I've gone? I don't have time to go to the academy and find her."

  Baret chuckled, a deep sound that rumbled from his chest. "She'll have your hide for not telling her yourself, you know."

  "Better that than missing deployment," Val replied with a rueful smile. "Just tell her I'll see her when I get back."

  "I'll tell her," Baret promised. "Though she might just decide to follow you to Clearwater out of spite. That girl never did like being left behind."

  The thought of Alea chasing after the ranger company out of sheer stubbornness made Val laugh despite himself. "She's got her own assignment. The academy's keeping the mages busy with this crisis."

  "Speaking of which," Baret said, his tone growing more serious, "heard you've got mages attached to your company now. That's new."

  Val nodded. "Direct combat support. Makes sense given what we're facing."

  "And nothing to do with whatever had you and Alea rushing off to meet with Grandmaster Linden?" Baret asked, his expression knowing.

  Val stared at him, caught off guard by the question. "How did you—"

  "I've known you two since you were stealing sweetcakes from my kitchen," Baret interrupted, his voice fond but firm. "I can tell when there's something going on. Not asking you to explain, mind. Just making sure you're alright."

  The concern in Baret's eyes touched Val deeply. "I'm figuring some things out," he admitted after a moment. "But I'm okay. Really."

  Baret studied him for a long moment, then nodded, apparently satisfied with what he saw. "Well, you know where to find me if you need to talk. Or eat. Or drink." He smiled, lightening the moment. "Speaking of which, I've got something for you to take with you."

  He disappeared into the back room, returning moments later with a bulging pack and a familiar wineskin. "Salted meat, hard cheese, dried fruit, and some of those honey cakes you've always been fond of," he explained, placing the pack on the counter. "And this—" he held up the wineskin, "—is autumn's blackberry wine. Your favorite. Seems appropriate you should have it."

  Val was momentarily speechless, touched by the thoughtfulness of the gesture. "Baret, I can't—"

  "Course you can," Baret interrupted firmly. "Take it, use it. Keep you and your squad fed on the road."

  Val accepted the gifts, knowing that refusing would only hurt the older man's feelings. "Thank you," he said simply, the words inadequate for the depth of his gratitude.

  Baret waved off the thanks. "Just come back in one piece, that's all the payment I need." He reached across the counter, clasping Val's forearm in the traditional gesture of respect between equals. "May the Oakspire watch over you, Val."

  Val returned the clasp, his throat suddenly tight with emotion. "And you, Baret."

  The moment stretched between them, heavy with unspoken concern and affection. Then Baret released him, stepping back with a gruff nod. "Go on, then. Get some rest before tomorrow. I'll make sure Alea knows where you've gone."

  Val stood, securing the wineskin to his belt and slinging the pack over his shoulder. He nodded to Baret once more before turning to leave, aware of the older man's gaze following him as he moved through the tavern toward the door.

  Outside, the evening air had cooled, bringing with it the distinctive scent of Oakspire in autumn: woodsmoke, fallen leaves, and the faint sweetness of late-blooming flowers. Val walked slowly, savoring the familiar sensations of his home city, knowing that days of hard travel and potential danger lay ahead.

  Back at his house, Val carefully packed Baret's provisions, ensuring that the weight was evenly distributed in his travel pack. He placed the manual from Linden in a protected inner pocket, tucked the wineskin where it would be accessible without unpacking everything, and double-checked his equipment one final time.

  Satisfied that everything was in order, Val attempted to settle down for the night, knowing he needed rest before tomorrow's early departure. Sleep, however, proved elusive. He lay in his bed staring at the ceiling, his mind racing with thoughts of the mission ahead, the strange developments in his aether abilities, and the growing threat to Yelden Valley.

  Every time he closed his eyes, images from his recent visions flashed behind his eyelids: the ancient battlefield, the bearded man with the living staff, the wooden armor sprouting from the earth. These fragments of what might be memories or premonitions refused to coalesce into a coherent whole, leaving him frustrated and increasingly alert as the night deepened around him.

  Eventually, Val gave up on proper sleep. He moved to the small desk near his window, lighting a single candle, and unwrapped Linden's manual. If he couldn't sleep, he might as well try to make sense of some of the dense text.

  The manual opened to a chapter titled "The Circulation of Life Essence," illustrated with intricate diagrams showing how life aether supposedly flowed through the human body. Val traced the illustrated pathways with his finger, trying to correlate the academic descriptions with his own experiences.

  According to the text, traditional life aether users drew power from external sources and channeled it through their own cores, an intermediary process that limited both quantity and application. But the ancient practitioners, those contemporary with Mother Arden, had somehow developed their cores to generate life aether internally, becoming living fonts of power rather than mere conduits.

  This distinction resonated with Val's experiences. When he drew on his abilities, it didn't feel like he was channeling external power; rather, it seemed to well up from within him, as if his core itself was producing the energy he needed. If Linden was right, this fundamental difference explained why his abilities manifested so differently from other aether users.

  The text went on to describe various techniques for cultivating this internal generation, but the language became increasingly obtuse, filled with metaphors and analogies that made little practical sense to Val. References to "the seed of creation" and "the breath of the world tree" might have held meaning for the ancient practitioners, but they offered little concrete guidance for someone trying to understand these abilities in the present day.

  Frustrated, Val closed the manual and returned to his bed. Dawn would arrive soon enough, and with it the beginning of their journey to Clearwater. He needed to be rested and alert, regardless of the questions that continued to circle in his mind.

  Sleep continued to elude him as the night stretched on, his body too tense and his mind too active for proper rest. Instead, Val focused on steadying his breathing. Not true sleep, perhaps, but a form of rest that would have to suffice.

  Outside his window, Oakspire slumbered, the great tree itself a darker shadow against the night sky. Somewhere within its massive trunk, the council would be planning defenses, coordinating responses to the growing threat. Elsewhere in the city, Alea would be sleeping, unaware that Val would be gone by the time she learned of his deployment. And throughout Yelden Valley, settlements large and small prepared for attacks that seemed increasingly inevitable.

  As the first hint of dawn lightened the eastern sky, Val rose from his bed, his body stiff from the night's restless vigil. He moved through his morning routine with mechanical movements, washing with cold water to shock his system into alertness, donning his ranger attire and checking his weapons one final time before securing them in their proper places.

  His pack stood ready by the door, containing everything he would need for the deployment. Val hoisted it onto his shoulders, adjusting the straps until the weight settled comfortably across his back. With a final glance around the house that had been his sanctuary between missions, he stepped outside into the pre-dawn stillness.

  The streets were quiet as Val made his way toward the barracks, only the occasional early riser or city guard breaking the solitude. Oakspire itself loomed above the buildings, its massive silhouette gradually becoming more distinct as light seeped into the sky. Val found himself studying the great tree with new interest, wondering what secrets it held regarding his unusual abilities and their connection to Mother Arden.

  At the barracks, rangers were already gathering in the courtyard, equipment packs arranged in neat rows, weapons being given final inspections before deployment. Val spotted his squad near the eastern edge of the formation, Elara checking her medical supplies while Aric and Lian conversed quietly. He joined them, noting with approval their readiness.

  "Everyone prepared?" Val asked, setting his own pack down beside theirs.

  Elara nodded, securing her medical pouch to her belt. "As ready as we can be, given the circumstances."

  "Did you get any sleep?" Aric asked, noting the shadows under Val's eyes.

  "Enough," Val replied, not wanting to worry his squad with his restless night. "I'll catch up on the road if needed."

  Before further conversation could develop, Captain Alfen strode into the courtyard, fully equipped for travel. The rangers immediately formed up, squads arranging themselves in marching order. Val moved to his position at the head of his squad, aware of the weight of responsibility that came with leadership.

  "Rangers," Alfen called, his voice carrying clearly in the morning air. He surveyed the assembled company, his scarred face severe in the growing light. "This deployment is unlike any in recent memory. We face an enemy displaying unprecedented coordination and strategic thinking. Stay alert, trust your training, and watch out for each other."

  Alfen raised his hand in the traditional ranger salute, fist over heart. "For the Oakspire."

  The company returned the salute as one, their voices joining in the response: "For the Oakspire."

  With that, Alfen turned and began walking toward the northern gate, the company falling into formation behind him. Val adjusted his pack one final time as he began walking, his squad a reassuring presence at his back. Ahead lay two days of travel through potentially hostile territory, followed by the unknown challenges of securing Clearwater against the undead threat.

  As they passed through Oakspire's northern gate into the wider valley beyond, Val cast a final glance back at the great tree that had defined his home since childhood. In the early morning light, its massive canopy seemed to glow with an inner radiance, a reminder of the power and protection it had provided for generations. Whatever changes were occurring within him, whatever challenges awaited at Clearwater, Val drew strength from that sight, the enduring symbol of Yelden Valley's resilience in the face of darkness.

  The residents of the impromptu village of refugees outside of the gate turned to watch them as they passed. Val locked eyes with a younger man that seemed to stare right through him. There was something off about him, a feeling of wrongness deep in his gut. Val slowed and made his way through the crowd but the man was gone. With a shrug, Val returned to the group and the journey to clearwater began.

  "Reckless fool!" The tallest figure's harsh whisper carried the weight of authority. "Decades of careful planning, and you risk it all for what? A glimpse of the ranger?"

  The accused stood defiant, shadows dancing across his hooded face. "Your caution has become cowardice. We have the opportunity—"

  "We have nothing but speculation and fragments," the third figure cut in, voice smooth as polished stone. "The notes are incomplete. The signs inconclusive."

  "I saw it in his eyes!" The defiant one stepped forward, passion overwhelming prudence. "The power that could destroy everything we have worked for. While you hide in these tunnels, parsing ancient texts, he walks above us!"

  The tall one moved with surprising speed, fingers closing around the other's throat. "And now he sensed you." The grip tightened. "Your impatience jeopardizes everything."

  "The timing is wrong," the third figure added, circling the pair like a predator. "The pieces are not yet in place. The northern gambit has barely begun."

  The grip relaxed, and the defiant one stumbled back, massaging his throat. "That's exactly my point. Events accelerate while we deliberate. The dead rise with purpose. The valley trembles. And you would have us wait?"

  "We would have you follow the plan," the tall one growled. "The plan that has sustained us, hidden us, brought us to this precipice. One ranger's awakening changes nothing."

  "It changes everything!" The words echoed off ancient stone. "He is what we've waited for. What she promised would come. And you send him north, away from our seat of power?"

  The third figure laughed, a sound like grinding glass. "You think we don't monitor his movements? That his deployment was random chance?" A pause pregnant with meaning. "The northern gambit serves multiple purposes."

  "The tall one's voice held cold satisfaction. "Now return to your post. Speak of this to no one. And if you ever approach him directly again..." The threat hung unfinished but understood. The defiant one bowed stiffly and retreated into the darkness, leaving the other two to their whispered plotting.