The early morning air was thick with mist as Greyrest stirred awake. The walls, now taller and fortified, cast long shadows over the town as the sun crept higher. Ethan stood at the gatehouse, scanning the horizon for any sign of the rider he had sent to Riverhelm. So far, nothing.
He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. Every minute without a reply meant more uncertainty. Greyrest couldn't afford that right now. Too much was brewing, beneath the earth, beyond the forest, and even inside their walls.
The streets behind him were alive with movement. Rations were being counted. Arrows bundled. Walls patched. Greyrest was no longer just trying to survive, it was trying to hold.
In the woods, Daisy and Weylin trained like wraiths in the trees. Ever since their mission to the tunnels, Weylin had taken their training to the next level. It wasn't just about hitting targets now. It was about disappearing, knowing the forest like it was part of their skin.
Daisy kept up without complaint. She moved quieter, shot faster, and stalked longer than ever before. Weylin didn't praise her with words, but the lessons got harder, his version of approval.
One misty morning, Ethan came upon them crouched over scattered charcoal and bark. They were drawing maps, marking out every fallen log, streambed, and hollow in the woods.
"It might not look like it" Daisy said. "But remember everything."
Ethan nodded. "We'll need that memory when the time comes."
Back in town, Lorana completed her prototype armor. It was lighter than any chainmail Ethan had seen, woven in overlapping scales with padded leather joints. Daisy tried hers first. She twisted and pulled back her bow, surprised by the freedom of motion.
"It fits like a second skin," she said, running a hand along the links.
Weylin's armor was simpler, thinner around the arms, reinforced at the sides. He strapped it on without comment, adjusted the bracers, then walked back into the trees. But Ethan noticed the slight lift in his shoulders. He approved.
"They'll both need better soon," Ethan said. "This is just to keep them alive."
That night, just before dusk, the rider returned. Mud-spattered, weary, but unharmed. He brought a sealed scroll marked with green wax.
Ethan broke the seal and read quickly.
Baroness Elyra's reply was brief but direct. She was sending a man named Rorik, a master armorer known for outfitting Riverhelm's scouts and light cavalry. He would arrive with two assistants and rare materials, enough to equip Ethan's shadow team.
Ethan passed the letter to Lorana and smiled faintly. "Let's see what this Rorik can do."
Two nights later, a small wagon rattled through Greyrest's gates. It was flanked by two guards on horseback and piled high with crates. Rorik climbed down slowly, short, broad, and flame-scarred from a life at the forge. His apprentices followed, quiet and watchful.
Ethan met him in front of the Town Hall.
"You're earlier than expected," Ethan said.
Rorik shrugged. "I ride faster when there's real work waiting."
Ethan led him straight to the forge. Inside, Lorana stood with arms crossed, eyes narrowed. Rorik looked around, nodded once, then examined the tools.
"You've done well for a frontier forge," he said. "But I'll need heat, space, and silence."
"You'll have it," Ethan said.
Over the next three days, Rorik worked without pause. He asked Daisy and Weylin questions about their roles, how they moved, what weapons they used, where they'd been wounded before. He even watched them train from the shadows.
He sketched designs by lantern-light: armor made of hardened leather and flexible rings, with overlapping shoulder guards and boots lined for silence. Ethan was impressed.
"These are more than outfits," Ethan said.
"Everything should be a weapon," Rorik replied. "Even what you wear."
The armor came together piece by piece. Scaled vests that flexed but held strong. Gauntlets with reinforced knuckles. A hood lined with dark wool for Daisy, and a thin neck guard for Weylin.
When they tried it on, even Weylin gave a quiet grunt of satisfaction.
"This," he said, "feels right."
Daisy twirled once, bow in hand. "I feel invisible."
Ethan stood at the edge of the forge, arms folded. These two weren't just scouts anymore. They were the beginning of something bigger.
"Soon, others will follow," he said.
Lorana glanced over. "more like them?"
"Exactly," Ethan said. "Not soldiers. Not guards. But something else."
Torren joined them near the forge. "You're planning to hit those tunnels?"
"Soon," Ethan said. "But not yet. I want more eyes first. And now that we have the armor, they can go deeper."
Torren looked at Daisy and Weylin, standing side by side in their new gear. "They look like ghosts."
"They are," Ethan said. "And ghosts strike hardest when unseen."
Later that night, Ethan sat alone in the Town Hall, looking over maps. He marked potential paths into the tunnels, escape routes, and fallback points. Everything had to be precise.
A knock came at the door. Daisy stepped inside, moving silently even across wooden floors.
"Ready for another mission," she said.
Weylin followed her in, silent as always.
Ethan smiled. "This one won't be simple. You'll scout deeper. Mark traps, count their numbers, and see what lies at the heart of those ruins."
Weylin nodded. "Understood."
"You leave before dawn," Ethan said. "Take food, light gear, and no fire."
Daisy nodded. "We'll be back."
As they left, Ethan exhaled and looked to the forge's smoke curling into the sky.
Greyrest was becoming something more.
And the storm on the horizon had no idea what waited in the dark.