The stranger's warning

The night was colder than Jasmine had anticipated. The warmth of the fire they had built in the clearing was slowly dwindling, the flames reduced to embers, casting long shadows on the ground. Caden had long since fallen into an uneasy sleep, his body curled into himself beneath his cloak, the letter he guarded so fiercely pressed close to his chest. Jasmine couldn't sleep, her mind too filled with the chaos of what lay ahead.

She sat by the dying fire, her arms wrapped around her knees, watching the smoke drift upward into the night. The woods were unnervingly still, the usual sounds of nocturnal creatures silenced, as if the forest itself was holding its breath. The eerie quiet seemed to amplify the anxiety creeping through her veins. She was too close to the unknown, too close to the border, and every instinct screamed at her to be alert.

Then, she heard it—a faint rustling in the underbrush, too deliberate to be an animal. Her pulse quickened, and her body tensed as she slowly turned her head, her eyes scanning the shadows just beyond the firelight. She wasn't alone.

A figure stepped from the trees, moving with a stealth that reminded her of Caden. The figure was tall, cloaked in dark, weathered fabric, the hood drawn low over their face, obscuring their features. They stopped just outside the ring of firelight, their presence unsettling in the stillness of the night.

Jasmine froze, her breath caught in her throat. Her first instinct was to reach for the dagger hidden in her boot, but before she could move, the figure spoke, their voice low and gravelly.

"You're out here, aren't you?"

Jasmine's heart thudded in her chest, her senses heightened. "Who are you?" she demanded, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

The stranger didn't respond immediately. Instead, they took a slow step forward, the faintest rustle of leaves beneath their boots the only sound breaking the silence. "It doesn't matter who I am," they replied cryptically. "What matters is what you're doing here. You're running from something. Or someone."

Jasmine's grip on her knife tightened, her mind racing. "We don't want trouble," she said cautiously, her eyes flicking to Caden, who still slept, unaware of the stranger's approach. "We're just passing through."

The figure chuckled, the sound low and almost mocking. "Passing through, hmm? I don't think so. Not with the way you're looking over your shoulder. Not with the way you've been traveling for days, trying to stay hidden."

Jasmine's heart skipped a beat. Whoever this person was, they knew too much.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She needed answers, needed to know why this stranger had found them, and what danger they might be bringing with them.

The stranger paused, their head tilting slightly as they regarded her with an unreadable expression. "I'm here to give you a warning," they said quietly. "The war's coming for you, whether you want it or not. And you're not as safe as you think."

Jasmine's stomach twisted. She wanted to ask what they meant, to demand more answers, but she couldn't find the words. Her mind was spinning with possibilities, each one darker than the last.

"Your friend," the stranger continued, their voice suddenly colder, "he's carrying something dangerous. And someone will come looking for it. You think you can hide in the woods forever, but it won't be long before they find you."

Jasmine's breath caught in her throat. They were talking about the letter. She glanced at Caden, her heart sinking. She had known that the letter was important, that it carried with it a dangerous secret, but hearing it from this stranger made the reality of their situation much more visceral.

"Who are you working for?" Jasmine demanded, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to sound assertive.

The figure smiled faintly beneath their hood, but it wasn't a reassuring smile. It was a smile that seemed to know far too much, a smile that carried the weight of secrets and shadows.

"I'm not working for anyone," they replied. "But I know what's coming. And you don't want to be caught in the middle of it."

Jasmine's mind raced. She couldn't trust this person, not yet. There were too many unknowns, too many risks. But the warning lingered, like a dark cloud settling over them. She needed to know more, needed to understand how much danger they were really in.

"What do you know about the letter?" Jasmine asked, her voice quiet, her gaze never leaving the stranger.

The figure's eyes glinted in the darkness, a flash of something calculating behind their hidden gaze. "I know enough to tell you that your time is running out. If you want to survive this, you need to move faster, go deeper into the woods. You can't stay here. You're already too close to the border, and once they realize what you have, they won't stop until they find you."

Jasmine's mind swirled with the implications of the stranger's words. They couldn't stay where they were. They had to keep moving, no matter how much she wanted to ignore the warning and pretend everything would be okay. But Caden—she couldn't just drag him further into the danger without understanding the full scope of what they were facing.

"We'll leave," she said slowly, her eyes never leaving the stranger's form. "But what do you want in exchange for your warning? Why tell us this?"

The figure shifted, the hooded head moving slightly, as if considering the question. "I'm not asking for anything from you. I'm just trying to make sure you don't end up dead because of someone else's greed."

Jasmine couldn't decide whether to believe the stranger or not. Their words were cryptic, their motives unclear. But one thing was undeniable—they knew too much.

"If you want to survive," the stranger said, their tone turning more serious, "you need to keep your wits about you. Trust no one. Not even the people you think you know."

Before Jasmine could respond, the figure turned and melted into the shadows, moving with the same quiet grace they had entered with.

Jasmine sat there for a long moment, her heart pounding in her chest. The stranger's warning had unsettled her, and now, as the silence of the night enveloped her once more, the weight of it pressed down on her like a heavy cloak.

She glanced at Caden, still fast asleep by the fire, unaware of the danger that had just brushed past them. She wanted to wake him, to tell him everything, but something held her back. She needed to think, to process everything the stranger had said, before she involved him in yet another uncertainty.

The stranger's warning echoed in her mind, and she knew one thing for sure: they were no longer just running from the war—they were running from something much darker, something that seemed to follow them at every turn. And wherever they went, danger was sure to follow.