"Tch, why do we have to walk so far just to watch some old man chop wood?" Kael huffed, kicking a pebble off the path. His small boots barely made a sound, but his voice was loud enough.
Behind him, Joran, the loyal servant, grunted. "Young master, you said you wanted to see how the men work. Thought you were serious about it."
Kael rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "I was serious until I realized it's just swinging an axe at trees like some dumb animal. What's so interesting about that?"
Joran sighed but kept moving forward, his steps steady and sure. He had been with Kael's family since the boy was born and knew better than to argue.
Kael was twelve — spoiled rotten, stubborn, and full of attitude. His parents called him bright, but the servants called him a whirlwind of trouble.
They reached a small clearing where giant trees stood tall, their thick trunks like sleeping giants.
Joran dropped his tools with a tired grunt. "Sit if you're going to complain. Watch and learn. Don't say a word."
Kael plopped down on a rock with a huff, arms crossed tightly. "Fine. Show me what's so great about this."
Joran ignored the jab and swung the axe with practiced ease. The blade bit into the wood with a sharp crack.
Kael stared at the treetops and yawned. Silence bored him — he hated stillness.
Then something caught his eye — the sky above the mountain had shifted. It wasn't cloudy, but the air felt heavy, like it was holding its breath.
He sat up, frowning. "Does the sky always look so… heavy?"
Joran paused mid-swing and glanced up. Then he snorted. "Sky's sky, boy. You're just imagining things."
Kael didn't answer. The stillness felt less peaceful now — more like waiting for something.
"Tch." He stood, brushing dust off his pants. "Let's go back. My mother said dinner's wild boar tonight. If I'm late, my brother'll steal the best piece again."
Joran raised an eyebrow. "You dragged me all this way just to turn around?"
Kael didn't look back. "You're the servant. Isn't that your job?"
Joran sighed and slung the rope back over his shoulder. The axe stayed stuck in the tree.
Behind them, deep in the shadows of the forest, something blinked once.
And smiled.
Kael froze mid-step.
There.
A flicker between the trees — like a glint of light bouncing off an eye. A blink.
He squinted, staring into the shadows where the forest grew thick and quiet. For a moment, nothing moved. No rustle. No breeze. Just the weight of stillness pressing down on everything.
"Did you see that?" he asked, suddenly standing straighter.
Joran paused, mid-swing. "What now?"
"In the trees. Something… blinked."
The old man lowered his axe slowly, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. He followed Kael's gaze but saw nothing. Just trees and shadows.
"Probably a deer," he said. "Or a fox. Could be anything. Animals always wander up here."
Kael didn't reply immediately. He kept staring at the spot, his brow furrowed deeper than he liked to admit.
Joran added, "Could also be your imagination again. Wouldn't be the first time."
Kael scowled. "Tch. I know what I saw."
"Sure you do," the old man muttered, turning back to the log. But he didn't lift the axe again.
Instead, he looked up at the sky. Still no clouds. Still no storm. But the air felt wrong — the kind that made bones ache before rain ever came.
"We should head down," Joran said finally. "Sky's acting funny. And I don't like that feeling."
Kael, trying not to show that he agreed, scoffed. "We've barely been here an hour."
"And that's an hour more than I like when the trees are this quiet." He slung the axe over his shoulder and gathered the rope. "Come on, boy."
Kael didn't argue. Not this time.
As they turned and made their way back down the slope, Kael glanced one last time over his shoulder.
Nothing blinked back.
But for a second — just a second — he could've sworn the forest was watching them leave.
The trail downward was easier than the climb, but Kael still complained.
"My feet hurt," he muttered. "Next time I'll just send you and stay in bed."
Joran didn't answer. He walked a few paces behind, steady as ever, though his eyes lingered on the woods a little more than usual.
The trees whispered in their usual way — leaves rustling, branches creaking, wind weaving through the high canopies.
But something… else was there too.
Not a sound.
Not a shadow.
Just a feeling.
Like a presence nearby — not animal, not monster — human. But larger than a man had any right to be. Quiet. Still. Watching.
Not one of those stares that makes your skin crawl, no — this one felt almost reverent.
As if someone… or something… was watching Kael from afar the way a master watches a blade being forged.
Neither of them turned to look.
Neither of them could have seen it, even if they had.
Kael, lost in thought about dinner, yawned loudly. "You think mother'll let me skip my reading again if I say we got attacked by a bird?"
Joran gave a short snort but didn't smile.
As they stepped off the last rise and into the village path, the sky above shifted.
The clouds broke apart. The air lightened. The heaviness vanished like a forgotten dream.
Kael didn't even notice.
"Finally," he stretched his arms wide. "Back to civilization."
Joran paused. Only for a second. He looked back over his shoulder — at the mountain, the trees, the path that suddenly felt far longer than it was.
Nothing followed them.
Still, he exhaled slowly through his nose.
"Strange weather today," he muttered.
Kael laughed. "That's your big wisdom? Strange weather? You sound older than usual."
Joran just kept walking.
And as the boy skipped ahead toward the smell of cooked rice and wild boar, Joran looked once more at the fading mountaintop.
His expression didn't show fear.
Only the faintest crease between his brows — like a man trying to remember something he was sure he never forgot.
[End of Chapter 1]