The wind woke Kael before the light did.

  It slipped through the tower’s gaps in uneven breaths, tugging at loose fabric and carrying the faint scent of ash. Kael lay still for a moment, listening. The tower creaked softly around him, stone shifting against stone as if reminding him how old and how fragile it really was.

  Beside him, Ash was already awake.

  The pup sat upright, ears forward, eyes fixed on the tower’s opening. His tail was still, his body tense in a way Kael had come to recognize.

  “What is it?” Kael murmured.

  Ash didn’t look at him.

  Kael pushed himself up and followed the pup’s gaze. Morning light spilled over the treeline, pale and cold, washing the forest in long shadows. For a few quiet seconds, everything looked the same as it always had.

  Then Kael saw it.

  A thin line of smoke.

  Faint. Almost delicate. Rising slowly beyond the trees.

  Kael frowned and stepped closer to the opening, resting one hand against the stone. The wind shifted, and the smoke wavered but it didn’t vanish.

  “Is that closer than it was?” he muttered.

  He couldn’t be sure. Memory was unreliable. Fear even more so.

  Ash let out a low sound not a growl, not a whine. Something in between.

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  Kael’s grip tightened on the stone.

  Smoke meant fire.

  Fire meant people.

  And people meant problems.

  He forced himself to move.

  Routine mattered. Panic didn’t help anyone least of all him.

  Kael grabbed the clay pot and headed for the river, Ash walking at his side but never straying far. The forest felt different this morning. Too quiet. Not empty watchful, like something holding its breath.

  At the riverbank, Kael knelt and filled the pot slowly. The cold water bit at his fingers, grounding him. He glanced toward the opposite bank, toward the darker forest beyond.

  Nothing moved.

  Still, Ash stood stiff beside him, eyes locked on the trees.

  “Ash,” Kael said quietly.

  The pup didn’t react at first.

  Kael tried again, firmer this time. “Ash.”

  The pup blinked, shook his head once, then looked up at Kael as if pulled back from somewhere far away. He gave a small huff and stepped closer.

  Kael exhaled.

  “Don’t do that,” he muttered. “Not today.”

  They returned to the tower without incident, but the feeling followed them like a shadow.

  Kael spent the late morning working on the tower. He tested stones, pressed clay into smaller gaps, adjusted what he could. It wasn’t proper repair not yet but it helped. Every filled crack felt like a small victory.

  Ash stayed close, circling the tower’s base, occasionally stopping to stare out at the forest again.

  Kael noticed something then.

  The fireflies were already appearing.

  Not many. Just a few faint glimmers near the trees, drifting lazily despite the sun still hanging high.

  That wasn’t right.

  He straightened slowly.

  Fireflies meant dusk.

  Dusk meant danger.

  And smoke...

  Kael turned toward the opening again.

  The smoke was still there.

  Steadier now.

  He swallowed.

  “Not today,” he said quietly. “Whatever you are… not today.”

  Ash pressed against his leg, warm and solid.

  As evening crept closer, Kael sat beside the fire and watched the smoke curl into the sky. It looked harmless. Distant. Almost peaceful.

  But Kael knew better now.

  Nothing survived out here by being harmless.

  That night, as the tower filled with darkness and wind, Kael lay awake longer than usual. Ash slept beside him, breathing slow and steady.

  Kael stared at the ceiling and listened to the forest breathe.

  Something was out there.

  And whatever it was

  It was getting closer.