Bandits in the Shadows

Dawn broke with a somber hue across the frost-draped towers of Viles. The kingdom stirred with anxious breath—its streets no longer filled with cheerful market vendors or roaming children, but with guards training furiously, families gathering supplies, and elders whispering prayers to long-forgotten gods. War was coming. They could feel it in the chill beneath their skin.

Inside the Hall of Frost, Kalamari, Tozi, Unomi, and Lakrima stood before Lord Achy, the Ice Messiah of Viles. His robe trailed thin wisps of frozen mist across the polished floor, and his silver-white beard sparkled with frost.

The glow of the crystalline throne dimmed as his piercing eyes met theirs.

"So you've made your decision," Achy said, his voice calm and resonant, like glacial creaking.

Kalamari stepped forward. "We head east—to the next kingdom in the Circle. If we're going to stop Veth, we need allies. We need the Arcadian bloodlines awakened. We can't afford to be reactive anymore."

Achy gave a slow nod. "You leave Viles vulnerable by doing so."

Unomi stood beside Kalamari, her arms crossed. "But if we fail, Viles falls anyway. At least now, you'll have warning, preparation—a fighting chance."

Achy turned his icy gaze to Lakrima. "You've trained under me since you could hold a wand. Will you abandon your home now?"

Lakrima hesitated. "I haven't forgotten where I was raised, my lord. But I'm not just a mage of Viles. I'm something older. If we don't stop Veth now, there will be nothing left to defend."

Tozi cleared his throat. "And someone's gotta cook for this lot."

Achy raised an eyebrow. "Cook?"

Kalamari chuckled slightly. "He's the best in Whoops."

There was a flicker of something—amusement?—in Achy's frozen expression. Then he stood, his breath misting in the chilled air. "Very well. The gates of Viles remain open to you. May the frost guide your path."

Outside, as the four prepared to leave, Ulma ran up the stone road, her small arms stretched out.

"Wait!"

Unomi knelt as Ulma threw herself into her arms.

"You'll come back, right?" she asked, eyes bright with tears.

"I promise," Unomi said, brushing Ulma's hair from her face. "Before the first snow melts."

Ulma turned to the others, giving a teary wave. "Be careful."

As the great gates creaked open, the party rode into the pale light of the morning, cloaks flapping like banners in the wind.

---

Snow crunched beneath their horses' hooves as the group rode east, leaving the frosted gates of Viles behind. The towering walls faded into the white horizon, disappearing behind jagged hills and pine-coated ridges.

Kalamari rode at the front, his hood pulled low but his golden eyes sharp. Unomi was close behind, scanning the terrain like a seasoned predator. Lakrima followed, clutching her staff, the wind tugging at her deep blue cloak. Tozi's horse trotted beside hers, his satchel bouncing at his hip, eyes more on the sky than the road, as if waiting for a bad omen to drop from the clouds.

For a long while, no one spoke.

Finally, Tozi exhaled. "I'm starting to think we should've asked Lord Achy for a frost dragon or something."

"Viles doesn't use dragons," Lakrima said without turning. "They're afraid they'll melt."

Unomi chuckled under her breath. "You joke too much for a chef."

"I cook too much to stay quiet," he replied.

Kalamari looked at Lakrima and asked, "How far do you think the Kings' Kingdom is?"

Lakrima looked at Unomi and Tozi. They all burst into laughter.

Kalamari frowned, confused by their reaction.

"Dude. The journey just began. We are not close at all," Lakrima said, grinning.

"Yeah, not at all," Tozi echoed.

Kalamari scowled and turned his gaze forward.

Tozi noticed the shift in mood. "Oh, now he's pissed. Come on, Kal, you can't get angry because we laughed. I get it—we made fun of you. What's the big deal?"

But Kalamari wasn't listening. His focus was ahead—on the dark shapes moving through the treeline to the left. His hand lowered instinctively to the hilt of his sword.

"We're not alone," he muttered.

Tozi kept talking. "Of course we're not alone—we're four here."

"Shhhh," Kalamari said softly as he stopped his horse.

Unomi halted beside him, her head turning sharply. "I count thirty. Maybe more. Bandits."

As if on cue, the figures emerged—rough men and women in mismatched armor, carrying rusted blades, jagged spears, and enchanted slings. Their faces were scarred, eyes sunken from years of blood and hunger.

The leader, a broad man with a crow-feather cloak and twin curved axes, stepped forward. "Well now," he said with a sneer. "Didn't expect travelers this far out. Hand over the girl and the gold, and we'll make it quick."

Lakrima scoffed. "What girl?"

He pointed. "The mage. She'll fetch a good price in Verux."

Unomi urged her horse forward, placing herself between the bandits and Lakrima. "You don't want to do this," she said coldly.

The bandit leader smirked. "I think I do."

Tozi raised a hand in peace. "Wait a minute. Aren't you those bandits we killed weeks ago? What are you doing trying to raid us again? Seems like you never learn. And where is your leader—the Hexmoth guy that Nylok tore open?"

The man's eyes narrowed. "So it was you who killed my brother."

Weapons clashed together in anticipation.

"We really don't have time for this. Maybe we can trade instead? Food, potions, whatever. No blood today," Tozi offered.

One of the bandits barked a laugh. "Or maybe we take your food—and your blood."

Kalamari dismounted his horse, scanning the bandits for familiar faces—Bethy, or any of the other women they'd once spared.

"Last warning," he said, voice like steel over frost.

From his shadow, Nylok slithered forth—eyes glowing, claws sharp.

The leader growled. "Kill them!"

The forest erupted into chaos.

A charging bandit raised his blade high, but Kalamari moved with ghostly speed. He drew his Soul Blade in a silver arc, cleaving through the man's sword and chest in one motion. Blood sprayed across the snow as the man fell gurgling.

Another rushed him with a spear, but Kalamari spun, kicking the weapon aside and plunging his blade into the man's stomach. The bandit collapsed with a grunt, entrails steaming in the cold.

Unomi melted into shadow, appearing behind two attackers. With a pulse of gravity, she crushed one into the earth, bones snapping like brittle twigs. The second tried to flee, but her next spell pulled him back, folding his spine unnaturally as he screamed.

Tozi lobbed vials from his belt—green, yellow, violet. One exploded in a cloud of hallucinogenic mist, causing two bandits to shriek and claw at invisible horrors. Another bottle burst into fire, catching a group aflame as they rolled in agony.

Lakrima chanted softly, eyes glowing. Frost spun around her like a cyclone. She raised her staff high and slammed it down.

A wave of ice erupted, skewering three men and freezing another's legs mid-charge. Her next spell summoned a column of icy wind, lifting enemies into the air before slamming them down with bone-shattering force.

Kalamari moved like a storm incarnate, slashing through armor and flesh with divine precision. Arrows rained toward Lakrima—he turned, deflected two with his blade, and caught a third mid-air. He redirected it, sending it flying back into the shooter's eye.

One bandit lunged at Tozi, but Nylok pounced—ripping the man's throat out with a flash of black fangs.

Only the leader remained.

He staggered back, bleeding from multiple wounds. "W-What are you?" he gasped.

Kalamari walked toward him, blade dripping with blood. "You had a choice. We gave it."

"You're Arcadian," the man whispered, trembling.

"No," Kalamari said, voice low. "We're the ones who stop what's coming."

He raised his blade—but Tozi stepped in, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Enough," Tozi said. "Let him crawl back and tell the others what he saw."

Kalamari paused, then slowly lowered his sword.

"Run," Unomi said to the bandit leader. "And pray Veth doesn't find you first."

The man bolted into the woods, half-sobbing.

The four stood in the silence of the ruined clearing, blood steaming on the snow.

Lakrima wiped her brow. "Well… that was our warm-up."

Unomi smirked. "They won't be the last."

Kalamari mounted his horse again, sheathing his blade. "Good. Because neither will we."

They turned east—toward the next kingdom in the Circle.

The Kings. Toward the next battle.

The wind carried the scent of snow and blood.

And in the distance… storm clouds gathered.