Beneath No Banner

Auren crouched low, pressing his back against the rough bark of a gnarled tree. His breath came slow, measured, just as Corren had taught him. Somewhere in the dense forest, Rhett was doing the same, though with far less effort.

No sudden movements. No noise. Just blend into the silence.

"If you fight every battle head-on, you'll be dead before you ever get strong enough to win the real fight," Corren's voice carried through the trees, calm but firm. He moved through the dense forest like a wraith, steps so light they barely rustled the fallen leaves. "So, if you can't win, you disappear."

Auren peeked from behind his cover. Corren was walking between the trees with casual ease, yet something about the way he moved made his presence flicker. One moment, he was in plain sight, the next, his form blurred into the shadows, slipping just outside of focus.

That shouldn't be possible. But then again, everything about Corren feels just beyond reach.

"How are you doing that?" Auren whispered.

"Perception is a weapon," Corren answered, vanishing behind a tree. "And people only see what they expect to see. Most don't pay attention to the empty spaces between moments. That's where you move."

The empty spaces between moments. Is that what I've been missing?

He glanced at Rhett, who hadn't so much as flinched since the lesson began. If anything, the boy already understood, blending into the underbrush with eerie stillness. Typical.

Corren reappeared, arms crossed. "Alright, lesson time. You're being hunted. No weapons, no chance in a fight. How do you escape?"

Auren frowned. "Run?"

Corren sighed. "You ever seen a rabbit try to outrun a hawk? Doesn't end well. Running is the last option. First, you lose the scent."

With a swift motion, he scooped up a handful of damp earth and crushed it between his palms, the scent of rich soil and decaying leaves filling the air. "Animals track by smell. People? Not so different. Get yourself covered in something stronger than your own scent. Mud, blood, anything that throws them off."

Auren wrinkled his nose as Corren smeared the damp earth across his arms. "That's disgusting."

"So is getting gutted in an alleyway," Corren shot back. "Your move, prince."

It's always 'prince' when I hesitate, as if he knows exactly where to poke the wound.

Grumbling, Auren followed suit, rubbing dirt over his skin. Rhett, without a word, did the same, though his expression remained unreadable.

"Next, you stay low, move slow," Corren continued. "Most people scan for movement first. The more you blend into the world, the less they see you."

Auren took a careful step, mimicking Corren's low stance. He moved forward, foot sliding silently across the mossy ground—only to snap a twig.

Corren winced. "You just alerted half the damn forest. Try again."

Auren muttered a curse and adjusted his steps. This time, he moved carefully, listening to the world around him, stepping where the earth was soft, where fallen leaves wouldn't crunch beneath his boots. It took effort, but after a few attempts, he began to feel the rhythm of it.

Corren nodded. "Better. Not good, but better."

Before Auren could respond, a sharp crack echoed through the trees.

Silence fell.

Corren's expression darkened. In one fluid motion, he stepped back into the shadows, vanishing from sight. Auren stiffened, gripping his spear. The forest had been alive with sound moments ago, but now? Now, it held its breath.

Then, movement. Something large. Heavy.

A branch snapped, closer this time.

Auren barely saw it before it moved—something between a stag and a predator, with jagged, mismatched antlers and slit-pupiled eyes that gleamed like burning embers. It sniffed the air, muscles tense beneath a pelt of coarse, matted fur. This was no ordinary beast.

And it was hunting.

Breathe. Don't move. It sees motion before form.

Rhett remained motionless. Auren forced himself to do the same, resisting every urge to turn and bolt.

The creature's gaze swept across them, lingering where they crouched. Auren's heart pounded against his ribs.

Then, something changed.

The air grew heavy, thick with unseen pressure. The shadows around them shifted, stretching unnaturally. A sound—low and primal—rumbled through the clearing, though it didn't come from the beast.

The creature's ears twitched. It hesitated. Then, with a snort, it turned and slunk back into the forest, vanishing into the gloom.

Auren let out a slow, shaky breath.

Corren reappeared, arms folded. "Sometimes, the best way to disappear… is to make something else scarier than your predator."

Auren stared. "You scared it off."

"Not me," Corren said, his smirk returning. "The idea of me."

The idea of him? That was the part that unsettled Auren the most. Not just Corren's skills, but the weight his presence carried. It wasn't just fear—it was something deeper. Something that made even monsters hesitate.

Auren's mind churned. "How do we do that, though?"

Yet, strangely, there was no reply.

Auren clenched his fists. Something about the way Corren had left felt wrong. Not calculated. Not part of a lesson. He had left because he was afraid—of what he might do to the uninvited guests of the forest.

And then, as if to confirm his thoughts, footsteps. Heavy, deliberate. A dozen figures emerged from the treeline, their armor dulled to avoid catching the moonlight, patterned with the symbol of a golden hawk. Mercenaries.

Their leader, a broad-shouldered man with a thick scar running down his cheek, surveyed the clearing with a knowing smirk. A presence clung to him, something that made the air feel heavier.

An Initiate.

"I know you're out there, boy," the leader called, his voice like gravel. "We ain't here to kill you. Not yet. We just need to have a little talk."

Auren swallowed hard, gripping his spear tighter. He knew better than to believe a man like that. They wouldn't stop at talking.

Rhett, beside him, exhaled slowly. "They don't know where we are yet."

Auren shot him a look. "And when they do?"

Rhett's gaze was unreadable in the darkness. "Then we fight."

Auren's mind raced. Corren left because he couldn't trust himself around them. What kind of monster does a man have to be to scare himself?

He shook the thought away. Right now, he had more pressing concerns.

He was not strong enough to win. Not yet.

But he had learned one thing tonight.

Sometimes, the best way to disappear—was to make something else scarier.

And Auren knew exactly where to go to do just that.

Rhett, beside him, exhaled slowly. "They don't know where we are yet."

Auren shot him a look. "And when they do?"

Rhett's gaze was unreadable in the darkness. "Then we fight."

The mercenaries spread out, moving in a slow, steady sweep. One of them, a lanky man with an axe, was getting too close. Too close to the roots where they hid. His boots crushed twigs underfoot as he passed within a few feet of them.

Auren held his breath.

Then, the man stopped.

He sniffed the air, eyes narrowing. Auren's grip tightened around his weapon, his muscles coiled, ready to spring—

A flicker. A shift in the air. And then Rhett moved.

One second he was beside Auren, crouched low. The next, he was in front of the mercenary, a streak of motion too fast to track. A hand shot out, gripping the man's face. Before the mercenary could so much as gasp, a surge of electricity crackled through Rhett's fingers.

The air snapped with a deafening crack. The man's body went rigid, his limbs seizing violently before he crumpled to the ground, smoke rising from his armor.

Silence.

Then—

"There!" one of the mercenaries shouted, pointing at Rhett.

Auren launched into motion before they could overwhelm Rhett.

He darted forward, his spear whistling through the air. The first man barely had time to react before Auren's weapon buried itself into his shoulder, forcing a pained cry from his lips. Auren twisted the spear free and spun, ducking under a wild sword swing before jabbing the blunt end of his weapon into another mercenary's ribs.

Rhett, beside him, was a storm given form. Sparks crackled along his fingertips as he slammed his palm against a man's chest. The mercenary convulsed violently before dropping like a stone. Another lunged at him, but Rhett sidestepped, lightning arcing between his hands as he backhanded the attacker with a crackling fist.

Auren didn't have Rhett's power, but he had something just as deadly—precision.

His spear shot out, catching a mercenary behind the knee. As the man fell, Auren flipped his grip and struck the hilt of the man's sword, knocking it from his grasp. A quick step forward—his elbow slammed into the mercenary's face, sending him sprawling.

Then the leader moved.

Auren barely had time to react before something blurred toward him—faster than any normal man. A fist slammed into his stomach, sending him skidding backward, his breath ripped from his lungs. He gasped, trying to steady himself, but the leader was already on him.

A sword swung—Auren raised his spear just in time. The impact jarred his arms, nearly wrenching the weapon from his grasp.

Too fast. Too strong.

The leader wasn't like the others.

Auren barely twisted away as a second strike came, the curved saber grazing his ribs. Pain flared, but he forced himself to move. He had fought before, but never against someone on this level.

A bolt of lightning split the night.

Rhett was there, stepping between them. His palm slammed forward, a crackling arc of energy streaking toward the leader.

For the first time, the man actually reacted.

The Initiate twisted his blade, slicing through the air. The moment the lightning touched his weapon, the energy dispersed—absorbed into the metal before harmlessly crackling off into the night.

Auren's eyes widened.

He countered Rhett's lightning.

Rhett frowned, eyes narrowing. "Interesting."

The leader exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders. "You're strong, kid. Both of you. But power without control?" His gaze flicked to Rhett. "That gets people killed."

Auren scoffed and forced himself to stand, spear still tight in his grip. His ribs burned, but he ignored the pain.

They were losing.

Think, damn it.

Then Auren's gaze flicked toward the trees—the deep part of the forest. Corren had always warned them about the beasts that lurked there. The ones even mercenaries feared.

Auren didn't hesitate. He turned and ran—not away, but toward the forbidden part of the woods.

"Auren?!" Rhett barked.

But Auren didn't stop. He knew the mercenaries would follow. They couldn't let him escape.

He just needed to run deep enough.

He pushed through the underbrush, breath coming in ragged gasps, his cuts and bruises screaming in protest. Then he heard it.

A low, guttural growl.

A shadow moved in the darkness, something massive, something that didn't belong in this world. The air itself felt wrong.

A beast of the deep woods.

Auren skidded to a stop, heart hammering. The mercenaries were right behind him—and then they saw it too.

The leader's eyes widened. "Oh, shit."

Auren turned and bolted the other way.

The beast lunged.

The mercenaries scattered, weapons forgotten, their earlier confidence shattered. The Initiate leader cursed, barely dodging as the monster's claws raked through a tree, splintering it like kindling.

Auren didn't look back. He ran toward Rhett.

And when he finally stopped, gasping for breath, he saw the mercenaries—running.

Not from him.

Not from Rhett.

But from the thing in the woods.

The beast let out a chilling snarl, before vanishing back into the darkness, satisfied with its chase.

Auren collapsed onto his knees, letting out a sharp, breathless laugh. "That worked."

Rhett stared at him. Then at the retreating mercenaries. Then back at him.

"…You're insane."

Auren grinned, wiping blood from his mouth. "Maybe. But we're still alive."