The Road of Thorns

The Umbral Heralds led the procession like wraiths, their black-armored steeds kicking up dust that never seemed to settle. 

Kaelen rode at the center of the column, flanked by Garron and a contingent of Caldris' greenest soldiers. Lady Selene lingered at the rear, her Velarion escort glowering at anyone who strayed too close. 

The air hung with tension, thick enough to choke on.

Garron leaned sideways in his saddle, voice low. 

"Those Heralds give me the shivers. Saw one blink without moving its eyes yesterday."

"Don't stare," Kaelen muttered. "They're not here to guard us. They're here to report."

"Report what? How many times you scratch your arse?"

"How many times I don't."

The System's interface flickered at the edge of Kaelen's vision, its text stark against the pine forests flanking the Silvershade Road:

[Corruption: 0.7%]

[Soulcraft Progress: 31/100]

[Environmental Threat Detected: Ambush probability - 67% within 3 miles.]

Kaelen nudged his horse closer to Selene. 

"Tell your men to check their saddle straps. The road ahead is… uneven."

She didn't look at him. "I don't take orders from drunkards."

"Then take them from a pragmatist. Velarion's horses spook easily, don't they?"

Selene's jaw tightened, but she raised a gloved hand. Her escort slowed, fingers brushing weapon hilts.

———

It came in a hail of arrows.

Bandits erupted from the tree line—a ragged mix of deserters and highwaymen, their faces masked by grime and desperation. The Umbral Heralds didn't stir. They simply watched as the first wave of bolts thudded into Caldris' shield wall.

"Shields!" Garron bellowed, flames flickering at his fingertips.

Kaelen stayed rooted, Soul Sight dissecting the chaos. Silver threads of magic coiled around three attackers—a Torch-tier earth mage, two Ember-tier archers. 

Weak. Hungry.

Selene's voice cut through the din as she parried a bandit's axe. 

"Do something, prince!" Her words a mockery.

He dismounted, feigning a stumble. "I'm trying!"

A bandit lunged, dagger aimed at his throat. Kaelen "tripped" backward, hand brushing the man's boot.

[Soulcraft Activated: Husk]

The bandit's soul tore free—a frayed wisp of gray—as he collapsed mid-swing. Kaelen absorbed the meager energy, his System updating:

[Soulcraft Progress: 34/100]

[Corruption: 0.8%]

[Memory Degradation: Faint recollection of childhood riding lessons.]

"Unlucky bastard" Garron muttered, incinerating an arrow midair.

Selene fought like an aged warrior, her sword trailing alchemical fire. But Kaelen noticed her glances—at the Heralds, at him. 

Testing.

He played his role perfectly: the bumbling prince who "accidentally" kicked a rock into an archer's knee, who "panicked" and toppled a wagon to block the earth mage's fissure. Each move masked by chaos, each soul consumed in the fray.

All done to make errors of the Herald's analysis.

When the last bandit fled, Selene stormed toward him, her blade singeing the grass. 

"Your incompetence nearly got us killed!"

Kaelen wiped imaginary sweat from his brow. 

"But it didn't. Thanks to your brilliance, my lady."

She stared at him, searching for irony. Finding none, she spat, "Stay out of my way."

The Umbral Heralds finally stirred, their leader's voice a rasping echo. "Continue."

———

Dusk brought them to a rocky clearing, the Heralds posted like sentinels at the forest's edge. Garron tended a cookfire, his focus ring glowing as he roasted stolen bandit rations.

"Never thought I'd miss fig wine," he grumbled.

Kaelen sat apart, sharpening a dagger. Selene approached, her shadow stretching across him.

"You moved oddly during the ambush," she said.

"Fear does that."

"Fear doesn't make men lucky." She knelt, her voice a blade. "What are you hiding?"

He met her gaze. "The same thing you are."

For a heartbeat, her mask slipped—a flicker of unease. 

Then she scoffed. "You're a fool."

"And you're smuggling alchemical cores in your saddlebags," Kaelen said softly. "Enough to level a fortress. The Heralds haven't noticed. Yet."

Selene's hand flew to her sword. "You—"

"Relax. I'm not your enemy." He nodded toward the Heralds. "They are."

She studied him, the firelight carving her face into sharp angles. 

"Why keep my secret?"

"Because Velarion's crops aren't the only thing failing. Your magic is too."

Her silence confirmed it.

"The cores are a stopgap," Kaelen pressed. "Without Caldris' grain, your people starve. Without your enchantments, we're defenseless. Mutual destruction."

Selene stood, her voice cold. 

"Speak of this again, and I'll feed you to the Heralds."

But as she walked away, the System flickered:

[Selene of Velarion - Loyalty: 15% (Cautious Interest).]

———

Kaelen took first watch, leaning against a pine as Garron snored beside the dying fire. The Umbral Heralds hadn't moved, their hollow eyes fixed on nothing.

A twig snapped. Selene sat beside him, her sword across her knees.

"Can't sleep?" Kaelen asked.

"Can't trust." She stared at the Heralds. "They're not breathing."

"They don't need to."

"You know what they are."

"I know what they're not. Humans." Kaelen tossed a pebble. 

It passed through a Herald's helm, revealing flickering darkness beneath. "Ghosts with orders."

Selene's voice dropped. 

"Why are you really going to the Conclave?"

"Same reason you are. To survive."

"You'll fail. The emperor devours men like you."

He smiled. "Then I'll taste terrible."

She stood, but paused. "If you betray me, I'll kill you myself."

"Noted."

As she retreated, the System updated:

[Environmental Threat Updated: Ambush probability - 89% within 1 mile.]

[Recommendation: Restore 5% Soulcraft Progress for combat readiness.]

Kaelen gripped his dagger. The road ahead was long, and the shadows were hungry.