Scianeus's Orphans Saga

The situation looked grim; most of the group had sustained minor injuries due to the scuffle, and Reynard had suffered the worst of it.

They couldn't dawdle for long. This wolf group was most likely a scouting team, and they weren't going to wait around for the rest to converge on their position; they had to get out of there, fast!

They needed to stop the bleeding. Not only did that pose a mortal danger to Reynard, but it also spelled trouble for the rest of the group, as the smell would make them stick out like a sore thumb.

But they were at a loss. They needed something to serve as a tourniquet but couldn't find anything useful, and crafting something from the nearby branches would take too long. So Altan had to sever the bowstring off his bow. This was enough to then be wrapped around Reynard's arm and leg, restricting the bleeding.

They then cut off the bloodied parts of his clothes and washed the wounds in the rivulet. Altan proceeded to take the rags and wrap them around the rabbit caught earlier. He hoped to lure the wolves away by using the combined smell of blood from the rabbit and the clothes.

Soon after, everyone had washed up to conceal their scents, and they were ready to set off. Herbert carried the still unconscious Reynard on his back as they made their way downhill.

As they formed a marching column, every member was linked to another in some way. Some marched holding hands, leading others, and some were shoulder to shoulder, trying to share the heat as they shivered in the cold night, while the wolves howled in the distance...

Joshua occasionally called out to each group member to make sure that there weren't any stragglers. "Keep close to each other and don't split off from the group," he kept urging, his whispering failing to conceal the seriousness in his voice.

As he brought up the rear and made sure the group marched at a reasonable pace, maintaining the unity and coherence of the party, Joshua couldn't help but be angry with himself.

From an onlooker's perspective, one could not help but be amazed at his leadership ability and quick thinking. Successfully guiding a group of children through an uncharted forest where danger lurked at every corner was an impressive feat—doubly so if achieved by someone as young as him.

However, Joshua held himself to a higher standard. He was entrusted with the lives of all his siblings. Allowing one to go missing—assumed to be kidnapped or worse—and another to be brutally mauled by a wolf, with his life hanging by a thread, felt like an abysmal failure that weighed heavily on him.

Thankfully, the wolves had been unable to find their trail, and the howling sounds had faded into the distance a while ago.

After a long and confused march, the sun started to rise, signaling the end of one of the longest nights of their lives. They stopped stumbling around as they could now see the road more clearly, and a sense of calm prevailed.

Leading the column, Altan glimpsed at the horizon and could see the trees grow ever more distant as the edge of the forest neared. Soon, they would finally be out of the forest.

---

Back at the capital, Dirrar was dreading having accepted the meeting, as the guild master once again overindulged in liquor, trying to prove his virility and youthfulness. The soup decorating his face was spilling proof that it failed miserably.

Soon, however, his attention would be drawn to a more pressing matter as the duke unfurled a letter and handed it to him.

This letter had changed the mood even before it was read, for it was stained with blood. It was apparent that its sender was no longer in this world.

Intrigued, Dirrar opened the letter to read its contents. Inside were letters that appeared to have been scribbled in haste, simply reading, "We were exposed." It seemed urgency was the order of the day.

The duke then stated, "Over the past few months, we've started losing contact with most of our operatives stationed in the Aternos League. The few remaining agents went into deep cover to avoid being caught." Taking a sip of his drink before continuing, "We are currently blind to what's happening across our shores."

Dirrar replied, "It sounds rather serious. Is it alright for you to be absent at this time? Why did you come to the capital when a message would have sufficed?"

The duke then waved his hand and said, "Even the League would be hard-pressed to start a campaign in the winter months. All their ships are currently tied down transporting the massive amounts of timber they ordered. It seems this year is going to be even colder than usual."

Dirrar kept staring at his glass. On the surface, what the duke said was correct, but he couldn't help feeling somewhat bothered by it, although eventually, his usual wariness returned.

Realizing that a big ask was coming his way and wanting to stay out of current affairs as per the director's wishes, Dirrar, feigning indifference, replied, "What has that got to do with me? As far as I know, you're in charge of the eastern army." As he stood up from his seat and started walking out of the room, he added, "It seems that you've got everything under control."

The duke, realizing he had to reveal his hand, finally confessed, "I was told about who you really are, and I need your help to set up a meeting."

Suspiciously glancing at the seemingly sleeping guild master, Dirrar swiftly threw a knife at him, to the duke's surprise. The guild master masterfully caught the knife as if he had eyes in the back of his head, stating as he wiped the soup off his head, "You might hurt someone with that!"

"I knew you were awake. Did you enjoy the soup so much that you had to plant your face in it?" said Dirrar jokingly, before suddenly changing his facial expression and gripping his saber. It was as if he had donned the mask of another man.

"I thought I made myself clear when I said not to tell anyone," he expressed while standing on his toes, ready to leap forward and attack if the answer wasn't to his liking.

The guild master too shed off his usual childish behavior. Placing both hands on the table, with a face that could be called sincere despite the lumps of soup sliding off it, he said, "I really apologize for mouthing off this instant. The old farts at the council were bothered by the aggressiveness of the League and wanted me to spill information about your whereabouts, but I refused. However, it seems that your constant periodic visits were widely known, and our guest came in person to meet you."

Doubling down in an effort to soothe the tension, the duke stated, "As I said earlier, all I need you to do is set up a meeting. Nothing more!"

Answering without even looking at the man, Dirrar asked, "A meeting with whom? And for what?"

Thinking that the man was now obliged to deliver his words to the concerned party, the duke slyly said, "We need the spider to weave its web once more."