The setting sun cast long shadows across the jungle floor as the stream flowed calmly nearby. Rustling in the undergrowth sent small reptilian creatures scattering.
Figures in purple and gray tactical uniforms moved through the area, scanning in silence before stopping beside a large rock near the riverbed.
"There's something here," one of them called out.
The others gathered as he brushed dirt from the stone's surface.
"Petroglyphs." He glanced over his shoulder. "Sarvel, can you interpret it?"
A woman in her mid-twenties stepped forward and crouched beside the rock
She traced the carvings with her fingers for a moment before standing.
"Target's heading for a valley," she said, turning toward the man who appeared to be in charge.
A brief silence followed.
"Then so are we," he replied.
Without another word, the squad moved out toward the valley.
***
As the sun beat down on them, the aves were unusually active, their piercing songs echoing through the trees.
The path eventually gave way to a packed gravel road.
Then the walls came into view.
Large. Imposing. Almost untouched by time. There was barely any visible wear.
Faelan frowned slightly.
That's odd. Either they had exceptional standards for maintenance… or the walls simply weren't used often enough to deteriorate.
The latter felt far more plausible.
They approached the gates where traders gathered, waiting to enter or leave the settlement.
A worn-down machine rumbled past them on six heavy tires, its engine coughing out a shuddering roar. Cracked headlights rattled with every bump, red soil caked along its underbelly. Crates of farm goods were piled high in the back—tomatoes, cabbages, raccots, and lekas.
Ria's eyes followed the vehicle for a little too long, as though debating whether to claim a few crates for herself.
"You're falling behind," Faelan called, snapping her from the thought.
At the gate, one of the guards stopped him, carefully inspecting the scarf around his neck before finally stepping aside.
It usually didn't take that long.
"What's the scarf about?" Ria asked as they passed through.
"Lior gave it to me," Faelan replied. "It's identification for messengers."
"Huh." She tilted her head slightly. "Can anyone use it? What if it gets stolen?"
"I… don't know," Faelan admitted.
The thought had genuinely never crossed his mind. He'd never even heard of a messenger's scarf going missing before.
He glanced at his scarf as they made their way toward the marketplace. Something about it felt different, though he couldn't tell what.
They arrived at the market, moving from shop to shop buying dried fruit and meat that'll last him for the trip back, Ria followed behind, then she spotted someone pilfering fruit from a stand without the shopkeeper's notice, she did the same, given how fast she was, it was surprisingly easy until her hands were full.
"Fae."
"Fae," she repeated.
Faelan turned toward her.
Ria stepped closer—far closer than necessary. He didn't appreciate the invasion of personal space, but said nothing.
"Could you hold a few things for me?" she asked sheepishly.
"Sure," he replied, not thinking much of it.
Once she handed him the items, Ria slipped back into the crowd.
And immediately returned to stealing.
She moved through the market with the finesse of a semi-professional thief, quick hands lifting fruit and small goods before vanishing elsewhere.
"I've got everything I need," Faelan called out. "Are you still buying mo—"
He stopped.
Faelan turned slowly, watching her in action.
That was when it clicked.
He had never actually seen her pay for anything.
For that matter… he didn't even know if she had money.
And currently, he was the one holding all her stolen goods.
"…Oh, shit," he muttered.
Faelan pushed through the crowd toward her.
"Stop! Thief!" someone shouted nearby.
Fortunately, they weren't talking about Ria—just the original thief who had apparently inspired her.
"Ria."
She stopped just before grabbing another item.
Faelan caught her by the arm and pulled her off to the side. "Did you steal all this?" he asked quietly.
"You're the only one calling it stealing."
"Because I'm the only one who saw it."
"It wouldn't have mattered anyway."
She took a bite of a paplenie—a sweet green fruit with seeds covering its skin.
"Usually some patrolmen get called," she continued casually. "Then they try to stop me, get beaten up, and I leave with the stuff anyway."
Another bite.
"So I would've gotten it in the end."
"That doesn't mean you can just–" he exhaled deeply, "let's just leave" he said walking away.
"Great, I can keep them," she said as she walked beside him.
"sure" he replied, there wasn't much of a choice
***
The Ryve made their way into the valley.
Their captain stood before the hatch as it slowly opened.
The same tall woman stepped out, her long white coat streaked with purple swaying slightly as she approached.
"What do you want?" she asked, already sounding annoyed.
"We have reason to believe someone passed through here," the captain replied.
"Someone did," she said flatly. "Two, in fact."
The captain remained still, though the thought crossed his mind immediately.
A companion? We weren't informed about that.
"Where are they now?" he asked.
"I don't particularly care about whatever business you have with them," the woman replied, irritation creeping into her voice, "but I'm not your information hub."
A brief pause.
"I'll answer one more question. Are you sure that's it?"
The Ryve exchanged brief glances.
The captain spoke again. "Where do you think they'll be?"
"Somewhere east, maybe," she answered. "Last I knew, they were about a day's journey from Caderrig. They'll probably stop to restock supplies."
Without another word, she turned and disappeared back into the hatch.
The door sealed shut behind her.
"The target traveling with someone wasn't part of the plan," one of the Ryve remarked.
"It shouldn't be a problem," the captain assured. "First, we confirm whether the target is in Caderrig. If she is, we wait for them to leave, isolate the variable, then subdue her."
"If we can," another Ryve muttered, taking a sip from his water flask.
He had red hair, mismatched eyes, and looked to be in his mid-twenties.
"I doubt we have the firepower to bring her in." He gestured toward the handgun at his hip.
"That won't be an issue, Riget," the captain replied.
He reached into his pocket and produced a small device.
"If this comes online, our chances improve significantly."
Riget glanced at it. "Or they get cut in half."
"What do you suppose we do then?" the captain pressed. "You must have an alternative in mind."
Riget stayed silent.
"That's what I thought."
The captain turned to the others. "We make a beeline for Caderrig. Anyone else have reservations about the operation?"
No one answered.
"Good. Let's move."
The captain walked off, the rest of the squad following without hesitation.