The forest was alive with quiet movement boots shifting on fallen leaves, blades being sharpened, and weapons distributed with silent efficiency. The sun barely rose over the horizon, casting a golden tint over the broken trees of Hollow Ridge. But inside Kael's temporary command tent, there was no beauty. Only war.
A large map lay stretched across a wooden table, stained with old blood and dirt. Red markers indicated Ronan's known strongholds; black ones marked outposts destroyed. Hollow Ridge now had a black marker too.
Aria stood to Kael's right, watching as he circled a region near the eastern border.
"If we strike here," he said, tapping the border town of Red Pine, "we can disrupt the flow of weapons into Ronan's camps. Their blacksmiths are supplied from this trade route."
Lina raised a brow. "But it's a civilian town. Half of them probably don't even know they're supplying him."
