Aeron knew the forest didn't turn quiet on its own.
The moment the raven cried and the wind stilled, he sighed—not in fear, but exhaustion.
"Wonderful," he muttered. "Can't even walk a half-day without someone deciding I'm their destiny."
He started running—not because he feared death, but because he knew what came next:
Being captured.
Being interrogated.
Being dragged halfway across the world to some warlord who thought killing him would wake up a god.
It was all so… tiring.
Aeron vaulted a fallen log and slipped between tight clusters of trees, moving with practiced ease. His breathing stayed even, more annoyed than strained.
A faint ripple followed him through the forest.
Too smooth to be wind.
Too controlled to be animal.
Aeron rolled his eyes.
"Stealthy. Very stealthy. Definitely not creepy at all."
A shape flickered between trees on his right—then left.
The Talons didn't rush. They glided, giving him the courtesy of a good chase.
"How polite," Aeron grumbled.
He cut sharply into a ravine, sliding down gravel, then bolted along its bottom. A shadow dropped in front of him—twin hooked blades glinting.
Aeron didn't flinch.
He just sighed deeper.
"Move."
The Talon struck; Aeron pivoted aside, shoved the assassin into the ravine wall, and climbed out with a grunt, dusting dirt off his cloak.
Behind him, the Talon rose and followed—silent, relentless.
"Persistent, aren't you?"
Branches cracked above. A throwing blade hissed past Aeron's cheek; he tilted his head just enough to let it pass.
The next blade he slapped away with the back of his forearm.
"Really? Poisoned? As if that helps."
Another blade cut his arm; he glanced at the wound with mild irritation.
"You touchy types never learn."
He ran harder, though more to avoid the inconvenience of being pinned down than out of survival instinct. The forest tightened around him until he burst into a clearing—
—and saw the cliff.
Fog swirled below it, hiding the drop.
Aeron stopped at the edge and groaned.
"Of course. A cliff. Perfect place to break every bone before they all knit back together and ruin my week."
The forest rustled behind him.
Aeron didn't bother turning right away.
He knew who it was.
Serik stepped forward, silver eyes glowing faintly.
"You run far," he said.
"No," Aeron corrected, "I run often. There's a difference."
Serik tilted his head. "You mock us to mask fear, Deathless One."
Aeron finally turned, unimpressed.
"If I were afraid, I wouldn't be this bored."
Serik motioned, and the circle of Talons tightened.
Aeron pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Listen, I've got things to do. Places not to be sacrificed. Gods not to resurrect. So if you're planning on dragging me to your warlord, we'll be here all day."
Serik smiled thinly. "You misunderstand. We plan on dragging you nowhere."
He raised a finger.
"We will simply take you."
Aeron clicked his tongue.
"Yeah, no. See, that's the part I'm not interested in."
He stepped backward without hesitation.
Right off the cliff.
Serik didn't even blink.
Aeron fell through the fog, muttering as he dropped:
"I swear, if I hit one more rock on the way down…"
The wind swallowed the rest of his complaint.
Above, the Talons peered over the edge.
Serik whispered, "He survived the fall."
Another Talon asked, "How can you be sure?"
Serik smiled.
"Because he's annoyed."
And the Red Talons followed him down into the mist.