Talvan groaned as he woke up on the hard wooden board they called a bed. “I would’ve been better off sleeping on the ground,” he muttered, stretching with a wince. When he raised his arms, his back cracked and popped like snapping twigs. He tried to turn his head, but it wouldn’t budge. “Great. Can’t even look left.”

  He shuffled downstairs, moving like someone much older, and found Revy hunched over a map, her finger tracing their route.

  He dropped onto the bench beside her with a grunt. “So… what’s the plan?”

  “Today,” Revy said without looking up, “we cross Thornwood and head back to the Fort Thayden. If all goes well, our horses should still be there.”

  Talvan took a bite of bread, chewing slowly. “If all goes well,” he repeated, eyeing the map. “We’re really banking on that?”

  Revy just smirked. “Well, we already survived a dragon-spider massacre and the world’s worst-smelling field. What’s a cursed forest between friends?”

  As Talvan reached for another roll, the door creaked open, and Leryea stepped in, chatting with an elf beside her.

  “Hey guys,” she called, “this is Vivlin. He says he found a way out of Thornwood.”

  Talvan perked up mid-chew. “A way out? Seriously?”

  “Yup. With most of the spiders dealt with, the path’s… kind of clear,” Leryea said, glancing at Vivlin.

  “Kind of?” Talvan asked, raising a brow.

  Vivlin nodded, stepping forward to spread out the map Revy had been using. “Yeah, while a large number of the spiders were cleared out by the dragon, some still remain. But there’s an old animal trail that runs from here to the outer edge of Thornwood. Should cut at least a day off your travel.”

  Revy leaned in, inspecting the route. “That’s a big help. Thanks, Vivlin.”

  Talvan looked up. “Why not use it yourself?”

  Vivlin scratched the back of his head, looking a bit sheepish. “I… kind of like it here. Quiet. Peaceful. I figured I’d wait until the main road was fully clear before heading out myself.”

  Leryea chuckled. “You and half this town.”

  Talvan tilted his head. “Wait… you like it here? This place smells like old bread and damp wood.”

  Vivlin gave a small chuckle. “It grows on you.”

  He stood taller than most elves they’d met, wearing bark-brown traveling leathers that were worn but well-kept. His bow, strung and resting on one shoulder, had ivy growing along its upper limb. Leryea leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, smirking as she watched.

  Revy raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t born here, though. Where’re you from originally?”

  “Willowthorn,” Vivlin replied, his voice quiet but steady. “Big forest. Bigger politics. You learn fast that not every elf wants to live in tree palaces and write poetry.”

  “So what, you’re a rebel?” Talvan asked, chewing another bite of bread.

  Vivlin snorted. “Nah. I'm just a scout, but I got tired of every decision needing twelve council meetings and a poetry reading. So I joined the scout unit. I ended up here during the landslide a couple of years back. The place was a mess, but they needed hands.”

  “You stayed?” Leryea asked.

  “They needed hands,” Vivlin repeated. “Besides, I’m good in the woods, bad in cities. The spiders weren’t too bad at first. Then they started nesting in the wells. One even tried to eat the mayor’s goat.”

  “That explains the shovel collection out back,” Talvan muttered.

  Vivlin smiled faintly. “That was a dark week.”

  Revy leaned forward, elbows on the table. “So you fought them off all this time?”

  Vivlin shrugged. “I did what I could. Dug traps, set fire to some nests. Then a dragon showed up and did in one day what we’d been trying for two years.”

  “Yeah,” Talvan said, glancing toward the window.

  Vivlin looked out as well, gaze distant. “First time I saw a dragon up close and didn’t run. First time I didn’t have to.”

  There was a pause. Even Talvan didn’t have a joke ready.

  Leryea cleared her throat. “Well. If you ever get tired of goat spiders and compost stew, there’s always room at Fort Thayden. You’d fit in.”

  Vivlin gave her a small, grateful smile. “Thanks. I’ll keep it in mind. For now, though, I’ll stick around. Someone’s gotta teach the new folks how not to get eaten.”

  Revy raised her cup. “To Vivlin, Thornwood’s Spider Whisperer.”

  They all raised what they had, bread, mugs, or bits of breakfast, in a quiet, respectful toast.

  After the toast, the mood settled into a quiet buzz of motion. Revy rolled up the map, slipping it into her satchel, while Talvan downed the last of his lukewarm tea and stretched with a wince.

  "Alright," he muttered, rubbing his neck. "Time to face Thornwood and hope we don’t end up spider snacks."

  Leryea stood and dusted off her coat. “Vivlin, you sure this trail is passable?”

  He nodded. “I walked it two days ago. Some webs are still hanging, but nothing fresh. If you stay on the path and don’t go poking into hollows, you’ll be fine.”

  “Define ‘fine,’” Talvan said, buckling his belt.

  “Alive,” Vivlin answered simply.

  After checking their packs and gear one last time, the group headed out through the inn’s creaky front door. The cool morning air carried a faint scent of pine and ash, reminders of the recent spider battles. Some locals nodded politely, while others kept their distance and eyed their weapons.

  Near the gate, a child handed Revy a small bundle of dried herbs tied with twine.

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  “For luck,” the child mumbled, then darted away.

  Revy blinked. “Huh. Looks like someone’s glad we’re cleaning house.”

  Vivlin met them at the town’s edge, his bow slung and a walking stick in hand. “Trail entrance is about ten minutes north of here. Keep left at the split log, and you’ll see the animal prints. After that, it’s one long walk.”

  They shook hands, firm and brief, and Leryea gave him a nod. “Thanks, Vivlin. For everything.”

  “Safe travels,” he said. “And if you see that dragon… tell her thanks from the town.”

  With that, they turned and set off toward Thornwood. Their shadows stretched behind them as the morning sun rose. The forest waited ahead, silent and deep.

  But this time, they didn’t walk into it alone. They walked in knowing the path.

  As they made their way deeper into Thornwood, the morning light filtered in through the trees in long, golden shafts. For a while, the group walked in silence, boots crunching softly on the undergrowth, until Talvan finally spoke.

  “You know… we were sent out to hunt a monster,” he said, glancing at the path ahead. “But it ended up saving the town.”

  Revy didn’t answer. It was Leryea who noticed her silence and turned slightly, offering a copper coin with a half-smile. “Copper for your thoughts, Revy?”

  Revy looked down, thoughtful. “From what I saw… those spiders didn’t stand a chance. And it looked like the dragon wasn’t just fighting them, it was eating them.”

  “Eating them?” Talvan wrinkled his nose. “Gross. But… you think it wasn’t just defending itself?”

  “I’m wondering,” Revy said, “if dragons are the spiders’ natural predators. Like… maybe they were what kept the population in check.”

  Talvan frowned. “Okay, but dragons were driven off before any of us were born. If they were part of some… balance, then why is one just showing up now?”

  That’s when Revy stopped walking. “Wait. Talvan… listen.”

  The others paused. The forest was quiet.

  Too quiet.

  Leryea tilted her head. “No birds.”

  “No animals either,” Revy added, voice low. “This deep in, we should hear something. But it’s silent.”

  Talvan’s hand drifted to his weapon. “That’s not good.”

  Revy’s brow furrowed. “And think about what your grandfather sent in that message spell, he said the spiders were way farther north than they should’ve been.”

  Talvan nodded slowly. “Without dragons… maybe nothing was left to keep them from overbreeding. They ate all the small game, then spread. Took this long for the wave to reach people.”

  “So…” Leryea said softly, “the monster we feared might’ve been the only reason we’re not all wrapped in webs right now.”

  They didn’t have an answer to that. Just the silent woods around them and the road ahead.

  It was midday when they saw it.

  A deep gash cut through the forest floor, splitting roots like a scar. Splintered trees had been pushed aside, leaving the path unnaturally clear. The air smelled of damp and decay, a clear warning.

  They all knew what it meant.

  “A den,” Revy muttered, narrowing her eyes. “And a big one.”

  She stepped forward, gripping her staff tightly, then nodded once. “This’ll take some time.”

  Talvan and Leryea moved into position without a word. They'd done this before. Revy began chanting, low and steady, drawing glowing runes into the air. A spark of fire began to build at the tip of her staff.

  “Movement,” Talvan warned, sword sliding free.

  Leryea crouched low, spear ready. “They’ve noticed us.”

  “Good,” Talvan said with a smirk. “Let’s hope they’re waiting for us to walk in. The thing about ambush predators is, it doesn’t work if the prey sees them coming.”

  Revy’s voice rose slightly, the ball of flame growing in her palm. “Ready when you are.”

  “If they’re underground…” Leryea began.

  “I got it,” Talvan said, grabbing a rock. He hefted it once, then hurled it into the middle of the clearing. It landed with a solid thud.

  The ground twitched.

  Then, from shadowed roots and cracks in the dirt, spiders began to pour out, larger than dogs, sleek and black, with legs that moved too fast and mandibles that clicked hungrily.

  “Now!” Revy shouted, releasing the spell.

  The fireball burst forward, roaring into the cluster of spiders and exploding in a rush of heat and flame. The clearing lit up in orange and smoke as screeches filled the air.

  Not as many as before, but more than enough to kill.

  Weapons drawn, they charged in.

  //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

  As Damon came out with the third load of mail, Sivares’s pack was already starting to bulge.

  “Why does it feel like more than we delivered last time?” Damon muttered.

  Keys popped her head out from the saddlebag. “Okay! Left side’s full.” She scampered over to the right. “Maps, packages, letters… and most importantly, snacks. I think we’re ready to go!”

  Damon gave her a playful nod as he tightened the last strap. “Alright, we’re heading west this time. opposite of the last route. We’ve got several stops before reaching Willowthorn to deliver Vivlin’s letter. After that, we’ll head north to Oldar to pick up Boarif’s order, then return to Dustworth.”

  He double-checked the pack list. “Last time we left with around twenty letters. Now we’re carrying over two thousand.”

  “You good, Sivares?” he asked, giving her shoulder a light pat.

  She shifted her wings, testing the weight. “It’ll be tiring,” she admitted, “but with breaks, we should be fine.”

  “Okay. Just don’t push yourself too hard,” Damon said, climbing up.

  Sivares smirked slightly. “Better late than never, right?”

  After one last check, they set off with their mail packed, wings ready, and a long journey through the sky ahead.

  As Sivares climbed higher, wings cutting smoothly through the air, she found her usual altitude, gliding above the clouds with ease. Damon pointed ahead. “Alright, we just follow that road for now.”

  Keys perched comfortably on Sivares’ back, moving around but still careful not to fall. The wind whipped through Damon’s hair, and the sun caught his goggles as he grinned into the sky.

  It wasn’t until after the first hour that the silhouette of tall stone walls appeared on the horizon.

  “Hey, look,” Damon called. “If I’m not wrong, I think that’s Bolrmont.”

  “Bolrmont?” Keys asked, leaning forward. “That’s the city the duke is in charge of, right?”

  “Yeah,” Damon replied, but he could already feel the tension building in Sivares beneath him.

  “It’s okay,” he murmured gently, resting a hand on her shoulder. “We don’t have any deliveries there right now.”

  “You sure?” she asked, voice tight.

  “Yeah. No, stop there, this run.”

  As they passed Bolrmont, no alarms sounded, and no weapons were raised. Still, Sivares didn’t relax. Her wings stayed stiff, and her breathing was too controlled.

  She kept her eyes forward, but Damon could tell she was watching that city until it was far behind them.

  As they approached their first stop, a small village just past the city walls, Damon took in the modest layout: maybe thirteen buildings in total, tucked along a dirt path with golden fields swaying beyond. Sivares circled once before landing gently in an open field nearby.

  Damon noticed the villagers peeking out from behind doorways and shutters, clearly uneasy.

  “Okay,” he said, adjusting his satchel, “this is our first stop. It should just be a handoff. Quick in, quick out.”

  He didn’t get to finish.

  A glowing red chain of light suddenly snapped through the air, aimed straight at Sivares. She recoiled on instinct, wings flaring wide.

  “Spell Break!”

  A flash of blue light lanced out from Keys, cutting through the chain just before it struck. The magical energy unraveled and fizzled midair.

  On the path ahead, a figure stepped forward.

  Slick black hair. Cold, calculating eyes. A long, dark coat that caught the wind like something out of a nightmare. In one hand, he held a rolled-up parchment, a wanted poster. He flicked it open with a snap.

  “Well now,” he sneered, lips curling, “not only a hundred-gold bounty... but what’s this? A mage mouse, too?”

  Keys stiffened on Sivares’ back, fur bristling.

  Damon stepped forward, arm outstretched protectively. “Who are you?”

  The man chuckled darkly. “Name’s Crenkle. Bounty hunter. And today’s my lucky day.”

  Damon’s eyes narrowed as the name clicked.

  “Wait… Crenkle? That was the name on the delivery request we got from this village.” His voice dropped into a growl. “You set us up.”

  Crenkle gave a mocking little bow. “Guilty as charged. After I saw that fresh bounty go up, I figured, Why chase prey when you can have it delivered to your doorstep?” He twirled a silver ring on his finger, then snapped his hand forward. “Now hold still, would you?”

  Red chains erupted from the air again, streaking toward Sivares like striking serpents.

  She roared and reared back, wings flaring wide, but the chains were fast, faster than last time.

  “Shield Surge!” Keys shouted, leaping from the saddle and casting mid-air. A bubble of blue magic formed just in time, deflecting the first wave of chains with a shattering crackle.

  Crenkle frowned. “Oh, so the mouse has bitten. Interesting…”

  Sivares growled, eyes locked on him. Her muscles tensed, her wings trembling with restraint.

  “She’s not your prey,” Damon snapped, stepping in front of Sivares, even as her tail lashed protectively around him. “She’s my partner. We’re not running.”

  Crenkle’s smirk turned cruel. “Then you’ll burn together.”

  More chains ignited from his palms, slithering through the air like living whips, heat distorting the space around them.