The morning after the vow, Ridgehall stirred with new purpose. Men gathered in the courtyard, their boots scuffing the stone as they packed travel kits and sharpened blades. But these were not soldiers for war—they were hunters, scouts, trackers who knew the ridges better than most lords’ riders ever could.

  Kael stood at the center, the hammer resting against the ground by his side. He scanned the faces before him, men and women both, hardened by years of toil in the mountains. Some he knew by name, others only by sight, but all of them had stepped forward when asked.

  “You know the ridges,” Kael said, his voice carrying across the open space. “The rivers, the trails, the hidden paths between valleys. If Lila still walks, she is somewhere on those roads. I will not command you as soldiers, but I ask you as my people—find her.”

  The scouts gave short nods. No one cheered, no one called out. They understood the weight of the task. Quietly, they mounted their horses or shouldered their packs, then filed through the gates, spreading in small groups to the east, west, and south. The search had begun.

  Rhea approached once the last group was gone, her own pack strapped across her shoulders. “I’ll take the northern pass,” she said, her tone leaving no room for debate.

  Kael turned sharply. “Rhea, no. You’ve just returned. You need rest.”

  Her eyes flashed, though not with anger—with determination. “I won’t sit here waiting while others ride into danger. She’s my sister in all but blood. I swore I’d bring her back. You can’t deny me this.”

  Kael’s jaw clenched. He wanted to argue, but he knew the fire in her would not bend. He lowered his voice. “If you go, promise me you’ll not throw yourself into reckless danger. Promise me you’ll return, whether or not you find her.”

  “I promise,” Rhea said. Then, softer, she added, “And I promise I’ll bring word of her, no matter what.”

  Kael placed a hand on her shoulder, a brief touch of trust. “Then ride swift.”

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  Rhea gave him a small nod before turning and striding to her horse. Joran handed her a waterskin, Tarin passed her a small dagger for the road, and Orin murmured a prayer under his breath. She mounted and, with a last look at Kael, spurred her horse toward the northern trail.

  Kael watched until she vanished into the distance. The emptiness left behind cut at him, but he forced himself to stand tall. “May the ridges guard her,” he whispered.

  The rest of the day passed with the weight of waiting. Reports trickled in from nearby villages—none had seen Lila, but they would keep watch. Kael moved through the hall, hearing concerns from workers, meeting with Mark about supplies, and speaking with Orin about keeping hope alive among the people. Yet beneath every task, his mind returned to one thought: Lila was still out there.

  As night fell, Kael stood by the window of his chamber, staring at the dark ridges beyond. His thoughts churned like the restless wind. He wanted to ride himself, to tear across the valleys until he found her. But he knew if he did, everything here could unravel.

  Behind him, the door opened. Kael turned to see Daren step inside, his cloak dusty from travel. His butler’s return carried a quiet strength, though his face was serious.

  “You’ve carried much since I left,” Daren said.

  Kael gave a short nod. “More than I wanted. And now Lila—she’s gone. I sent riders, scouts, even Rhea. But waiting while others search…” He trailed off, his fists tightening.

  Daren studied him for a moment, then spoke in a tone both calm and firm. “You cannot chase her yet. Your path is not ready. There is something you must learn first.”

  Kael frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Daren stepped closer, lowering his voice. “The eyes. You’ve felt them before, haven’t you? In moments when the world seemed to slow, when danger sharpened, when you saw more than you should.”

  Kael froze. He remembered—the orphanage , the fight with the wardens. Though his eyes had healed, the memory of the pain never left him.

  Daren’s gaze was steady. “It is a gift. But without training, it will burn you more than it will aid you. You are lord now, Kael. If you are to stand against the lords, if you are to keep your people safe, you must master it.”

  Kael’s heart thudded. “And you can teach me?”

  “Yes,” Daren said simply. “But you must be willing. The training is not easy. It will break you if you resist it. And once the eyes are opened fully, there is no going back.”

  Kael turned toward the window again, staring at the ridges shrouded in shadow. He thought of Lila walking alone somewhere in that darkness, of the people who now depended on him, of the lords who already plotted his fall. Then he looked back at Daren, resolve settling across his face.

  “Then teach me,” Kael said. “Whatever it takes.”

  Daren gave a small nod. “Good. Then come with me.”

  Kael took up his cloak, slinging it over his shoulders. Together, the two walked out of the chamber, down the silent corridors, and into the night. The torches along the courtyard burned low, casting long shadows across the stone.

  Daren led him beyond the walls, toward the old training grounds at the edge of the ridge. The wind whistled through the trees, sharp and cold. Kael tightened his grip on the hammer, steadying himself for whatever was to come.

  As they stepped into the clearing, Daren turned to him. “Tonight, we begin. I will show you how to see through the eyes. And once you learn, Kael, nothing in these ridges will be hidden from you again.”

  Kael drew in a deep breath. His chest was heavy with fear, but heavier still with resolve. He gave a single nod.

  “I’m ready.”