Bjorn’s axe sliced through a bat, scattering it into a storm of sparks that tumbled over the tower’s edge. Another shrieked from behind. Bjorn spun, slamming the butt of his axe into its head. The creature burst backward, spiraling off the platform, its trail of fire streaking like a falling star.

“There are too many of them,” Bjorn shouted. 

Rowan clenched his fists as he stepped to the platform’s edge and raised his arm. A firebat shrieked and dove for him. Rowan flinched, thrusting his hand forward. But nothing happened. Its claws flashed—

WHSSHH!

Bjorn’s axe cut past, striking the bat’s side. The creature let out a piercing screech as it spun away, breaking apart into a trail of sparks that tumbled into the night. But more firebats circled the tower as Bjorn tightened his grip on the axe. “I’ve got you,” he said.

Another firebat streaked down in a flare of orange. Bjorn rolled aside, the planks groaning under his weight, then came up swinging—one strike, then another. Two bats shattered into sparks, their glowing embers drifting away in the wind.

CRASH! Another bat slammed into the tower. The whole platform shook. Dust rained from the beams as a railing broke and fell to the forest below.

Bjorn yelled and charged at the last cluster of firebats. His axe carved through the air in wide, blazing arcs, every strike bursting the creatures into showers of sparks. Heat from the firebats surrounded him, wrapping the tower in firelight. Sweat streamed down his face, but his arms never weakened. Each swing was steady, and each strike was stronger than the last.

With a final cry, his axe sliced through the lead firebat. It burst apart, and the rest shrieked in panic before vanishing into the clouds.

The tower gave a long creak, like it was sighing in relief, as a cool breeze swept through and chased away the smell of smoke. Rowan walked over to where Bjorn slumped against the railing.

“You okay?” Rowan asked.

Bjorn lifted a hand in a wobbly thumbs-up, his shoulders rising and falling like a tired bull. Rowan broke into a grin. “That’s your victory pose? You look like you’re about to tip over!”

Bjorn huffed out something between a laugh and a groan. “Still counts.”

Rowan looked at Bjorn, then said carefully, “You know… the last time we saw firebats, you were all tied up.”

That finally made Bjorn turn. “Hard to forget. You were the one who dragged me out of it.”

“Well, yeah, but… You never told me how you got into that mess in the first place.” Rowan said.

Bjorn looked up toward the stars. “I was heading east from Mossmere, chasing rumors about the Havenreach warriors. Thought if I found them, maybe I could train with them and become Althoria’s best warrior.”

His voice grew more serious. “That’s when I heard it, clicks and whispers, moving through the trees. I turned, but it was too late. A dart in my shoulder, then another in my leg. The ground spun out from under me, and everything went black.”

Rowan’s eyes widened. “That sounds terrifying.”

Bjorn nodded slowly. “When I woke, I was tied up. Torches all around, beasts chanting that made the ground shake.” He paused. “I thought no one would come for me. Then—” his gaze softened, “you popped your head out from behind a log.”

Rowan winced. “Not my most heroic moment, huh?”

Bjorn chuckled. “No, but you jumped in anyway. You didn’t have to, but you did.”

“Yeah, well… somebody had to save your big axe-swinging butt,” Rowan said.

They both laughed as the night had finally calmed and the last sparks from the firebats fizzled into the dark, before vanishing for good. Rowan leaned against the railing and tipped his head back.

At first, it felt good to just listen to the quiet. But the silence didn’t stay empty for long; Rowan thought of what he saw through the telescope. Stone arches wrapped in twisting vines. Crumbling walls swallowed by roots. An old building in the middle of the forest, waiting for someone to find it again.

He shut his eyes, and suddenly the ruins didn’t feel so far away. Whatever was out there in the forest, it wasn’t just old rocks and shadows. He could almost hear the wind brushing through their hollow windows, and could practically picture footsteps echoing across broken floors. Then, Rowan’s body tensed. The image in his head didn’t feel like his own anymore. It pressed against his thoughts, like something out there was reaching for him.