Inside, Fenn stood hunched over a large map splayed across the table, his shoulders tense, head bowed as though the world's weight pressed down on him. Two other Hollow-born flanked him, one of them a familiar face. It was an Awakened from Ember Reach, a couple of years ahead of Rynna, and known for his quick mind. The other was unfamiliar, a short man with closely cropped grey hair and a weathered look.
“Commander.” Rynna cleared her throat, stepping forward into a rest position, her hands clasped loosely behind her back.
“Rynna.” Fenn’s entire posture softened as he lifted his gaze.
She froze at the sight of him. He looked…different. It had only been a week, but his shoulders slumped ever so slightly beneath his worn leather armor, and his fingers twitched at the edges of the map as if holding on to the last bit of control he could muster. His eyes, visible above the mask, carried a haunted, empty look as if he had watched the light drain from his men day by day, knowing there was no victory to be had.
Coughing, he pulled himself upright. “I mean, Awakened Rynna. I’m relieved you made it. Headquarters sent word that you would be coming.”
“Nothing would have stopped us.” It took every ounce of her restraint not to close the space between them and pull him into her arms.
“Us?” His visible eyebrow lifted slightly, his gaze hardening as it found Kaelith.
“And what is so important,” the older man asked, his voice clipped, “that you had to deliver it in person? Hopefully, some way to win this damned war?”
“Yes. That’s why we’re here. Skarn is the key,” Rynna said firmly, her boots sinking slightly into the packed, muddy ground beneath her feet as she looked around.
The command tent was orderly, despite the disarray outside. Weapons racks lined the far wall, each blade and spear meticulously arranged, while lanterns hung from the beams, casting a steady illumination over the neatly stacked provisions near the entrance.
Swallowing, she added, “If we take him out, the horde should collapse.”
Fenn’s eyes widened at the words, then narrowed as his focus shifted to Kaelith again. “That seems too good to be true. Why would they make it so easy to defeat them?”
“It’s not as easy as it sounds, wolf,” Kaelith interjected, his voice breaking through as the first raindrops began to tap rhythmically against the canvas roof. “Skarn is a formidable enemy, and he’ll only reveal himself when he holds the advantage.”
“That’s where Awakened Calli comes in, then, I assume.” Fenn nodded toward her, the end of the table creaking as he leaned against it. “I take it you can find him?”
“I have a better chance than most,” she replied, her attention turning to the maps pinned to the tent's walls, tracking their scattered forces and territories under siege. “But the bigger question remains. Why create a single point of failure in an army that’s nearly unbeatable?”
“It seems,” Kaelith began, lips pursing, “that my former apprentice isn’t very trusting of his new ally. This is his leverage.”
“I wonder where he learned that.” Fenn’s tone was flat.
Kaelith ignored the comment. “It is a weakness we’d be fools not to exploit.”
“We,” Fenn echoed as he looked from Calli to Kaelith again, his eye briefly lingering on the Source-restricting cuffs at Kaelith’s wrists before drifting to the torn, blood-stained remnants of his clothes.
“It seems your trip wasn’t exactly uneventful.”
“No, Commander,” Calli cut in. “My unit was attacked by a horde of the dead. I was lucky that Rynna and...” she curled her nose in distaste, “the prisoner found me when they did.”
“A horde? Already past our defenses?” The older Hollow-born looked up from the map, skepticism etched into the deep lines on his face. “You must be exaggerating, girl. We’ve blocked them at every passage and paid for it in blood. Besides, you wouldn’t be here if there were that many.”
“There were hundreds,” Calli shot back, her voice shaking as her fists clenched at her sides. “My whole unit died keeping them off me.” Her eyes flickered toward Kaelith. “The traitor...he stopped them at the last minute and held them off until Rynna got there.”
“So let me get this straight.” The younger Hollow-born, Arthur, scratched his chin. “A ‘horde,’ as you call it, came upon you, wiped out everyone in your unit, and this one”—he gestured toward Kaelith—”just happened to show up in time and then decided to stand between you and an army of the dead? Holding them off long enough for...” He paused, a mocking grin creeping across his face. “Another Awakened to arrive and,with a prisoner wearing Source-restricting cuffs, wipe out ‘hundreds’ of our own dead Hollow-born warriors?”
Fenn stood now against one of the tent’s pillars, his arms crossed, but remained silent.
“Commander, I can’t decide which part of this story is more ludicrous.” The young man chuckled. “I know you have some sort of relationship with this woman”—he glanced at Rynna, “but…”
“Enough,” Fenn growled. “Calli is speaking the truth, at least as much as she remembers.”
“Commander, you can’t seriously believe—” the older Hollow-born began, but Fenn silenced him.
“I said enough, Henry. Do you think I would be so easily fooled?” The clouds swirling in his left eye dissipated, revealing the silver Wolf's eye beneath.
Henry’s face tightened as he took a step back, his shoulders hunching under Fenn's fierce regard. “Of course not, but that doesn't mean the snake hasn’t manipulated them.”
