The bunker loomed over us, its heavy metal doors creaking as Sylas pushed them open. Even with the king’s reassurance, the place felt wrong, like something out of a nightmare. A musty odor greeted us, mingling with the scent of rust and mildew.

  “Who thought it’d be a good idea to put a bunker here?” Kael muttered, wrinkling his nose.

  “It might look like something from a horror story,” Sylas replied, her fire orb casting eerie shadows on the walls, “but it beats another ocean trip. My stomach can’t take it.”

  Mira laughed nervously. “If I never see a ship again, it’ll be too soon.”

  The interior was deceptively vast. The corridors stretched into the darkness, lined with pipes that dripped with condensation. Crumbling staircases led to lower levels, and rooms splintered off in all directions, creating a maze.

  “I hate this already,” Mira said, clutching her staff tighter.

  “Stick together,” I reminded them. “We don’t want to get lost in here.”

  It took time to navigate through the twisting halls, the sound of our footsteps echoing faintly. When we finally reached the designated room, Kael peered in and frowned.

  “This is it? Looks like a junkyard.”

  The room was a mess—furniture overturned, debris scattered everywhere. We spread out, sifting through the clutter for any sign of the sigil.

  “You’d think the king could’ve mentioned it’d be this hard to find,” Sylas grumbled, crouching to check beneath a broken table, and picking a piece of weird-looking blanket.

  “Maybe he thought it’d be fun,” Kael joked, though his tone lacked its usual teasing lilt.

  Finally, Kaldor’s deep voice broke through our frustrated silence. “Here.” He had shoved a heavy closet aside, revealing a faintly glowing sigil etched into the wall.

  We gathered around it, placing our hands on the symbol. The moment we did, light enveloped us, and the room vanished.

  The air was fresher than anything I’d breathed in a long time. The forest we emerged into was vibrant, alive with the sounds of rustling leaves and chirping birds. Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor.

  “Finally, a forest that doesn’t want to kill us,” Sylas said, spinning in place to take in the serene surroundings.

  “It’s… nice,” Mira added, brushing her fingers against the leaves of a low-hanging branch. “Almost too nice. What’s the catch?”

  “No catch,” I said with a small smile, holding up the map. “Just a long journey ahead of us. We’re heading east to the beastkin lands, Elna Dorei. Kaldor, we’ll get you home.”

  The big bear-like beastkin nodded, his usual calm demeanor softening with gratitude. “Thank you. It means a lot.”

  “Unfortunately, It’ll take at least a year,” I continued. “We’ll stop in some cities along the way, maybe take on a few quests to get some money. But we need to avoid the highlands,... which is pretty damn near us.”

  “Why?” Mira asked.

  Before I could answer, Kael cut in, his voice unusually sharp. “Just trust me. Don’t go near the highlands.”

  Mira raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. Instead, she smirked. “Aw, Kael, what with your sudden mood change? Is it because you are worried about being away from Kaldor? How will you survive without your partner?”

  Kael didn’t take the bait. Instead, he looked away, his silence unnerving.

  “Hey,” Sylas whispered to me, “is he okay?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted, watching Kael walk a little ahead of us.

  As we walked deeper into the forest, a faint sound reached our ears—a soft, heart-wrenching sob. Sylas and I exchanged a look.

  “Stay here,” I said to the others. “We’ll check it out.”

  We followed the sound to a small boy huddled behind a tree. His knees were pulled to his chest, and his face was streaked with tears. His clothes were ragged, and his golden-yellow eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, stirring a strange sense of familiarity.

  There was something odd about him—his skin had faint, irregular patches, almost like old scars or birthmarks running along his arms and the sides of his neck. A rare condition, maybe? His nails were slightly sharper than usual for a kid his age, but that could’ve just been neglect or a weird genetic trait. His dark, slightly disheveled hair framed his face, and as I stepped closer, I noticed something else—his canines were a little more pronounced than normal.

  I frowned slightly but shook the thought away. It wasn’t that strange. I’d seen plenty of people with unique features before.

  The boy sniffled and shrank back as Sylas knelt beside him.

  “Hey there,” Sylas said gently. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. Are you lost?”

  The boy nodded, his sniffles breaking the quiet.

  “What’s your name?” I asked, crouching beside Sylas.

  He didn’t response at first, with his eyes closed. it looked down to my hands, oh thats why. “Everyone, lower your weapons?” Everyone took a slight glance back as we tuck our weapons to thier hips. Sylas then asked a again “Little boy, what’s your name and why are you alone in the forest?”

  She tried again. “Little boy, what’s your name? And why are you alone in the forest?”

  The child swallowed hard before finally whispering, “L-Leif… Leif Thaloran.”

  Sylas offered him a small, reassuring smile. “That’s a nice name, Leif. Where are your parents? Your home?”

  Leif hesitated, his fingers gripping the fabric of his tunic. “I… I was looking for my brother,” he muttered. “He went out days ago and didn’t come back. I… I got lost trying to find him.”

  I gave him an encouraging nod. “That’s the spirit. Everyone needs to have a place for family in their heart,” I said, my voice a little lighter. “But you can’t be looking for your brother when you’re all alone, right?”

  He sniffled and nodded. “Y-yeah…”

  I exchanged a glance with Sylas before kneeling down to his level. “Where do you live, Leif?”

  This time, his answer came with a hint of fear. “The… highlands.”

  The word sent an uncomfortable chill through me. I could tell Sylas felt the same way—her expression tightened, and she briefly met my gaze, concern flashing in her golden eyes.

  Kael, standing behind us, inhaled sharply. “The highlands?” he repeated, his voice low with suspicion.

  We led Leif back to the rest of the group, and as soon as I told them what he had said, Kael stiffened. His usual calm, unreadable expression hardened into something more serious.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “We can’t trust him,” Kael said bluntly, his arms crossed. “What if this is a trap? He could be leading us straight into danger.”

  Mira scoffed. “He’s just a kid! How could he trick us?”

  “You’d be surprised,” Kael muttered, his gaze never leaving Leif.

  Sylas huffed, putting her hands on her hips. “Okay, sure, let’s assume for a second that he is leading us into a trap. What do we do then? Leave him here? Hope the forest takes care of him?”

  “I’m just saying we should be cautious,” Kael argued. “For all we know, someone could be using him as bait.”

  “I can’t just leave him,” Sylas said firmly. “What if his brother really is out there? We’d be leaving two kids to fend for themselves.”

  Kaldor finally spoke, his voice steady and thoughtful. “He mentioned someone else. If that’s true, we shouldn’t ignore it. But Kael has a point. We need to be careful.”

  A heavy silence fell over us as everyone turned to me, waiting for a decision.

  Leif sat a few steps away, hugging his knees, his eyes wet with fresh tears. His tiny form looked so fragile, like he’d disappear into the wilderness if we left him behind.

  “Duke,” Sylas prompted softly.

  I exhaled, feeling the weight of the choice settle over me.

  “We’ll help him,” I said finally. “But we’re staying alert. No risks, no splitting up. We do this together.”

  Sylas smiled in approval, and Mira sighed in relief. Even Kael gave a reluctant nod, though his jaw was still tight.

  Leif looked up at us, his eyes widening in disbelief. “You’re… going to help me?” His voice was small, but the gratitude in it was clear.

  “Yes,” I said firmly. “But first, you need to tell us everything you know about the highlands. We’ll need to be prepared.”

  Leif shifted, his tail—wait, no, that was just his coat bunched up weirdly—curling slightly behind him. “It’s quiet,” he said after a moment. “Not many people come there unless they’re visiting. We mostly stay with our own.”

  Kael’s eyes narrowed. “And what about outsiders?”

  Leif blinked. “We don’t get many. But… my mom says it’s better that way.”

  “Why?” Sylas asked gently.

  He hesitated again, then gave a small shrug. “I don’t know. I never asked.”

  Something about that sounded off. But before I could press further, Kael exhaled sharply and turned to me. “So? What’s the plan, Duke?”

  I looked at Leif, who sat anxiously, waiting for our verdict. He had been careful with his words, but he hadn’t lied. And there was no way I was leaving a lost kid behind.

  “We’ll help him,” I said firmly. “But we stay cautious. No risks, no splitting up.”

  Sylas smiled, Mira sighed in relief, and even Kaldor gave a nod of approval.

  Kael crossed his arms. “You really haven’t changed, have you?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Kael let out a dry chuckle. “First, you’re helping a damn Drakonian, now you’re picking up strays in the middle of the woods. I guess you’ll take in just about anyone, huh?”

  Leif, who had been quiet, suddenly perked up. “Drakon… what?”

  I nearly choked.

  “Nothing,” I said quickly, waving my hand. “Forget about it.”

  Leif frowned but didn’t push.

  Sylas smirked, but at least she didn’t press the issue either.

  I cleared my throat. “Anyway, let’s get moving. The sooner we get Leif somewhere safe, the better.”

  Leif nodded, his glowing eyes meeting mine. For a brief moment, I wondered where I’d seen eyes like his before, but the thought slipped away as we started our journey.

  Leif walked happily ahead, his small hands clasped tightly with Mira and Sylas. The trio laughed and chatted as they pointed out the wildlife around them—a flock of vibrant birds flitting between the trees, a family of deer peeking curiously through the foliage, and even a squirrel that seemed particularly bold, chittering from a low branch.

  “Look at that one!” Leif exclaimed, his golden eyes wide with delight. “It’s so fluffy!”

  Sylas chuckled. “I think it likes you, Leif.”

  Mira nodded, smiling warmly. “Maybe it wants you to take it home.”

  Leif giggled, his earlier sadness seemingly forgotten.

  From behind, I couldn’t help but watch the scene, feeling a mix of awkwardness and amusement. Sylas and Mira had a natural way of making people feel at ease. I tried to join in, but my attempts at small talk were clumsy at best.

  “Uh… that squirrel,” I said, pointing toward the critter. “It’s, uh… very squirrel-like.”

  Kael said, looking at the ground and kicking the small rocks under his feet. “Wow, Duke. Insightful.”

  Kaldor continued with a grumpy face “So insightful that you didn’t consider the danger in doing this.”

  “Hey, I did. It just, I don’t want to leave that boy alone.”

  Mira laughed, and even Leif turned to giggle at me. I shrugged, letting them have their moment.

  With the map’s guidance and Kaldor’s innate ability to sense the terrain, we made steady progress toward the highlands. The forest gave way to an upward-sloping hill, the dense canopy thinning out to reveal patches of open sky.

  The first sight of the city came into view as we crested the hill. It was striking—fortified with jagged walls made of some material that wasn’t quite stone. The walls shimmered faintly in the sunlight, their surface uneven and organic-looking, almost like petrified scales. A massive gate loomed at the front, flanked by two guards whose figures were barely visible from our distance.

  Inside the city, the sound of the wind was distinct, whistling through unseen crevices and passages. From here, it seemed bustling, alive with activity.

  “That’s it!” Leif exclaimed, pulling forward with excitement. “That’s my home!”

  Sylas and Mira exchanged bittersweet glances, their earlier cheer replaced with quiet resignation.

  “So… we’re just dropping him off and leaving?” Sylas asked, her voice soft.

  I nodded. “We have to. If we stay too long, we’ll lose time on our journey. The east is still far, and Kaldor deserves to get home.”

  “I understand,” Mira said, though the disappointment was clear in her tone.

  Sylas said nothing, but her expression mirrored Mira’s.

  As we moved closer to the city, an uneasy feeling crept over me. The wind seemed to shift, carrying an unnatural chill.

  “Something’s wrong,” I muttered.

  Before anyone could respond, a sudden burst of wind roared from above, throwing us backward. I landed hard, rolling onto the grass as a dark silhouette descended in front of us.

  The figure stood tall, holding a long spear that glinted menacingly in the light. Its wings stretched wide, leathery and imposing, and its scaly skin shimmered with an iridescent sheen. A Drakonian.

  We froze, the weight of the moment pressing down on us.

  “What is a Drakonian doing here?” Kael whispered, his hand instinctively reaching for his dagger.

  My mind flowed back to the first time I met Eregor and Lief, they both have glowy golden eyes. That was why I felt so familiar with that eye color

  Before we could react further, a second silhouette swooped into view, then another, and another. Looking skyward, I felt my stomach drop.

  The sky was filled with them. Dozens of Drakonians hovered above, their wings beating in perfect rhythm. Their forms were varied—some smaller and lithe, others massive and heavily armored. Each one carried a weapon, and their golden eyes gleamed with sharp intelligence.

  Leif stood between us and the first Drakonian, his small frame trembling. “Please… don’t hurt them!” he cried, his voice cracking.

  The Drakonian holding the spear tilted its head, studying us with a piercing gaze. Its voice, when it spoke, was deep and commanding.

  “Why have you brought outsiders here, Leif?”

  Leif hesitated, glancing back at us. “They… they helped me. They’re my friends!”

  “Friends?” the Drakonian repeated, its tone heavy with skepticism.

  We remained silent, the tension thick as more Drakonians landed around us, their presence suffocating. I tightened my grip on my swords, Sylas and Mira on their wands, Kael on his shining dagger, and Kaldor with his shield and hammer, but every instinct screamed that we were outmatched.

  “Let’s not make any sudden moves,” Kaldor murmured, his calm voice steadying.

  I glanced at my team. Sylas and Mira stood protectively in front of Leif, their determination unshaken despite the overwhelming odds. Kael’s hand stayed on his dagger, though his expression betrayed uncertainty.

  “Let’s hear them out,” I said quietly, stepping forward with deliberate slowness. “We don’t want trouble. We just want to bring Leif home.”

  The spear-wielding Drakonian’s gaze narrowed. “You claim to help him, yet you are armed. How do we know you’re not a threat?”

  “Because if we were,” Sylas said sharply, “we wouldn’t have walked him all the way here.”

  The Drakonian didn’t respond immediately, its gaze flicking to Leif. The boy’s glowing eyes pleaded silently.

  Finally, the Drakonian lowered its spear slightly. “Very well. You will come with us. But if you mean harm to this city or its people…”

  Its wings spread wide, sending a gust of wind over us. The unspoken threat hung in the air, clear as day.

  “We understand,” I said firmly, sheathing my sword.

  With that, the Drakonians moved to escort us toward the city, their imposing forms flanking us on all sides. As we walked, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were stepping into something far larger—and far more dangerous—than we’d anticipated.