New Paths

A mellow dawn light fell across the orchard settlement, illuminating the scarred walls, partially mended farmland, and watchtowers that now towered above the tree line. The crisp morning air carried a sense of cautious purpose as orchard staff and watchers prepared for another day, each mindful that infiltration or Jace/Ellie's lurking threat might yet return. For the time being, however, the orchard's calm held, and a faint optimism flickered in people's eyes.

In the courtyard, a group of scouts—some orchard workers and a pair of Tamsin's watchers—had assembled in front of a battered map pinned to a wooden board. Their hushed voices swirled with excitement. Rumor had it they'd uncovered a passable route beyond the rolling hills to the northwest. It could circumvent the rubble-choked highways that once served as the orchard settlement's main thoroughfares, thereby opening trade possibilities with enclaves long isolated by undead infestations or natural barriers.

Leila arrived, shoulders squared, scanning the orchard watchers already posted along the fence. Tamsin stood nearby, arms folded but expression more curious than stern. Mark, eagerly listening to the scouts, motioned for Leila to approach.

One scout, a wiry orchard worker named Cort, tapped the map with a dirt-stained finger. "We found a back route, weaving through the foothills. Not many undead—maybe because the terrain is steep. We only scouted partway, but it seems workable for small caravans."

His companion, a Tamsin watcher with short-cropped hair, nodded. "Heard rumors from travelers that enclaves up there are advanced in carpentry or forging. They keep to themselves, rarely risk the highways. If we can reach them, there's talk of specialized woodwork, maybe forging new weapons or building supplies."

Mark's eyes lit with excitement. "Carpentry or forging? That could be huge for the orchard settlement! We're strong in farmland, seeds, produce—but advanced forging or woodworking has always been lacking."

Leila frowned slightly, mulling the possibilities. "If that route's truly safe, forming trade alliances could benefit both sides. But infiltration or sabotage could also slip through new paths."

A hush fell. The orchard donkey, tethered near a feed trough, brayed once as if adding its own commentary. Tamsin's watchers glowered at the mention of infiltration, a constant worry. Mark cleared his throat, urging optimism. "We can't hide forever. If enclaves up there are advanced, imagine them forging better fence reinforcements, watchtower supports, even replacement parts for the orchard's irrigation system."

Leila dipped her head in acknowledgment. "Yes. Let's be thorough, though. We send a small team to explore. Minimal risk, maximum caution."

As the orchard staff hovered around, discussing the route's potential, Leila turned to Mark. "You've been a solid liaison with Redwood, Harriet's group, and even Sunridge. It makes sense you head this scouting mission too, find out if these enclaves are truly advanced in carpentry or forging."

Mark's face lit with a mixture of pride and nerves. "Happy to. I'll gather orchard workers who can handle rough terrain. Maybe Tamsin's watchers for security. We can slip past any undead if it's as quiet as the scouts say."

Tamsin's watchers nodded, though one quietly muttered about sabotage risk. Leila gave them a level stare. "You'll remain vigilant. Inspect any enclaves for infiltration signs before forging alliances."

They nodded, while orchard staff rummaged for traveling supplies—a donkey harness, ropes, leftover dried food. Harriet's group lingered in the background, uncertain if they'd be invited, but Harriet caught Leila's eye and gave a polite nod. She's proven loyal so far, Leila mused, but infiltration concerns always lingered in the orchard's hush.

Excitement rippled through orchard staff as word spread that enclaves beyond the hills might wield specialized craftsmanship. Some recalled how Redwood's seeds and supplies had boosted orchard morale; forging new alliances could only strengthen them further against Jace/Ellie. The battered orchard had resources—bountiful farmland, newly installed alarm systems, watchtower expansions—and trade with enclaves excelling in forging or carpentry might fill the orchard's greatest weaknesses.

Fiona, glancing over the orchard produce logs, joined the discussion. "If they truly have forging capabilities, we can get better metal gates, improved irrigation gear, or even forging new weapon parts. That would be a game-changer."

Leila let out a slow breath. "Yes. But we don't go in blind. Mark's mission is just recon—learn who they are, what they want in trade, confirm they're not infiltration or raiders in disguise."

Tamsin's watchers offered no argument; they had grown used to orchard staff's caution, especially after infiltration attempts nearly broke them before. Harriet's group listened quietly, prepared to help if asked.

Amid the bustle, Kai stepped forward, carrying a small pack of supplies. He spoke up, voice calm. "I can accompany Mark on this recon. My experience in long-range scouting might help—especially if we run into undead or uncertain enclaves."

Leila's chest tightened. She recalled the orchard donkey's brays on previous missions, the synergy between her and Kai in battle, and also the swirling rumors that they might be too close, risking infiltration suspicion or emotional vulnerability. She forced composure. "That might be wise, but—" She trailed off, uncertain how to phrase her hesitation. I don't want to appear reliant on him, or overshadow Mark's leadership.

Mark seemed enthused. "Yes, having Kai along would be great. He's adept at dealing with both undead and enclaves."

But Kai sensed Leila's tension. He glanced her way, brow furrowing. She averted her eyes, trying to quell the swirl of conflict: I trust him, but I can't appear too dependent. Also, infiltration watchers might suspect favoritism or question orchard leadership.

She cleared her throat. "Mark is the designated leader for this mission, but if he wants extra support, that's his call." She paused, forcing a neutral tone. "Kai, you're a strong scout—just ensure you coordinate with Mark fully."

A hush lingered. She felt a pang, seeing the flicker of concern in Kai's gaze. He recognized her hesitation, how she held back from simply embracing the synergy they'd forged. But she wouldn't let personal attachments overshadow orchard security or infiltration precautions. I can't let them see me rely on him too much.

Mark, oblivious to the undercurrent, smiled. "Great, then it's settled. Kai, me, Tamsin's watchers, maybe two orchard staff who handle donkey loads. We leave tomorrow at dawn."

Through the afternoon, orchard staff hustled to gather enough dried produce for the journey, the donkey's harness was inspected for tears, watchers checked the orchard perimeter. Harriet's group offered leftover salvaged metal rods to help if a forging alliance formed. Tamsin oversaw watchers, verifying infiltration screening for any new faces or suspicious acts. Leila hovered in the courtyard, coordinating final details, ignoring the twinge in her heart each time she glimpsed Kai working with Mark.

She overheard orchard workers whisper about infiltration risk: "What if these rumored enclaves are allied with Jace?" or "Could they be infiltration experts?" A surge of old fear churned in Leila's gut. She reaffirmed that Mark and Kai had impeccable orchard loyalty, Tamsin's watchers had infiltration protocols, and Harriet's group had proven no sabotage recently. Still, I must remain cautious.

Kai approached near dusk, donkey braying softly behind him as orchard staff tested harness adjustments. He offered Leila a faint, searching look. "We have everything sorted. Are you sure you don't want to join us? You used to lead these missions."

Her heart clenched. She usually did lead, but the orchard needed a stable presence at home, and she refused to appear overly reliant on traveling with him. "No," she said gently, voice carefully measured. "Mark can handle this. The orchard needs me here—especially with infiltration checks continuing, and we might have a mini exchange fair soon. I can't be away."

He nodded, acceptance overshadowed by unspoken tension. She recognized it but offered a tight smile, burying the longing that pricked her chest. "Bring back good news," she whispered.

"Will do," he replied softly, reading the conflict in her eyes. With a brief nod, he turned away, orchard staff summoning him for last-minute donkey harness instructions.

Leila forced a steady exhale, ignoring the pang that told her she wanted to be out there forging alliances with him, letting synergy blossom. But not yet, she reminded herself, overshadowed by infiltration caution and her desire to stand strong without appearing reliant.

At dawn the next day, orchard watchers unbarred the main gate. A small caravan formed—a donkey loaded with supplies, Mark at the front, Kai beside him, Tamsin's watchers scanning the horizon, and two orchard staff controlling the donkey. Harriet's group remained in the orchard, continuing farmland tasks. The orchard donkey gave a half-enthusiastic bray, orchard staff patting its flank for reassurance.

Leila stood near the gate, arms folded. "Good luck," she told Mark, ignoring the swirl of emotions when she locked eyes with Kai. "Report back if you find these enclaves. And keep infiltration screening tight—no chance for saboteurs to slip in."

Mark nodded fervently. "We will. If these enclaves truly have forging or carpentry advanced skill, we'll see if trade is feasible. Otherwise, we come back quickly."

Kai offered a small smile, though it was tinged with the same unspoken sadness at her distance. "We'll do the orchard proud."

She gave him a curt nod, stepping aside to let the caravan pass. Tamsin's watchers parted ways with orchard staff along the fence, the donkey plodding obediently. A hush fell, orchard staff and watchers looking on as the group disappeared beyond the orchard's boundary, heading toward the newly discovered route in the foothills.

As the caravan vanished into the morning haze, orchard staff resumed tasks with subdued energy. Harriet's group continued farmland chores, watchers patrolled the orchard fence. Leila, arms still crossed, stared at the orchard gate for a long moment—unsure if she'd done the right thing by not joining them. Part of her yearned to ensure infiltration or sabotage didn't hamper the mission; another part insisted the orchard needed her presence at home, especially as infiltration checks never truly ended.

She exhaled, recalling the rumors of enclaves advanced in carpentry or forging. This might be the orchard's next big leap, she mused, hoping Mark's mission succeeded. If forging alliances overcame infiltration paranoia, they could build an orchard settlement so fortified that even Jace/Ellie's cunning wouldn't breach it.

Yet a persistent knot of fear twisted in her stomach: They always come back. The orchard donkey's bray broke her thoughts, orchard watchers saluting as she moved deeper into the orchard. She forced herself to focus on orchard logs, farmland expansions, infiltration checks—the day-to-day tasks of leadership that demanded her unwavering vigilance.