The steady rhythm of the carriage wheels against the cobblestone streets filled the silence inside the cabin. The air was thick with unspoken thoughts, the weight of the upcoming meeting pressing down on each of them. Even Nara, usually the most carefree among them, sat unusually still. Her golden eyes flicked between the others, as if waiting for someone to break the tension.
Outside, the streets of Eeyrendyl had quieted, but the Everwood encampment was a stark contrast. The first sign of their destination was the flickering torchlight reflecting off polished armor. Rows of dark green tents loomed ahead, each bearing the Everwood crest—a silver tree with curling roots, stark against the fabric.
The Everwood camp was not simply a noble's residence; it was a fortress. Guards lined the perimeter, clad in fine armor, their gazes sharp and disciplined. The air smelled of burning wood, mingling with the crisp night breeze.
Jhaeros peered out the window. "I was expecting a few tents and some wine, not a military outpost."
Lyra remained unreadable. "My father doesn't take chances."
Kalem let out a quiet chuckle. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
Before she could respond, the carriage slowed, coming to a halt before a waiting group of guards. Onyx snorted, his large frame shifting as he settled.
Two guards stepped forward, their presence commanding. One, an older man with short, graying hair and a scar running from his temple to his jaw, peered inside. His sharp blue eyes swept over the group before he spoke.
"Lady Everwood," he greeted, his voice level but firm. "Your father is expecting you. Step out, one at a time."
Lyra nodded, stepping out first. The guards barely glanced at her before shifting their attention to the rest.
Jhaeros was next, stretching as he stepped onto the ground. "Feels good to be out of that carriage."
Nara followed with a grin, raising her hands in mock surrender. "I promise I won't cause trouble."
Garrick stepped out last, arms crossed as he took in the surroundings.
Then came Kalem.
The moment his boots hit the ground, the atmosphere shifted. He could feel it—the weight of dozens of gazes settling on him.
"Weapon check," the scarred guard announced. "Stand still."
The process was quick for most.
Garrick? Unarmed. "I've got these," he said, flexing his fists. "More reliable than steel."
Nara? Also unarmed. "I like to improvise," she said cheerfully.
Jhaeros? A single dagger. "For emergencies," he shrugged.
Then they got to Kalem.
The first guard patted him down and immediately frowned. "Short sword on his back."
Another guard checked his boots. "Knives in both."
A third guard searched his belt. "Throwing knives. Five."
The scarred guard raised an eyebrow. "Alright, is that all?"
Kalem sighed, rolling his shoulders. "There's also one in my sleeve—"
A hidden blade clattered to the ground.
"…and one inside my coat lining."
Another knife.
The guards exchanged looks. "That it?"
Kalem hesitated. "Well…"
They sighed. "Strip."
"Wait, what?" Kalem frowned.
"You heard me. Coat off. Shirt too. If you're carrying anything else, we'll find it."
Kalem groaned but complied, unbuttoning his coat and pulling his shirt over his head.
Silence.
"Damn," Garrick muttered. "You're more knives than man."
Scattered across the ground lay an alarming collection of blades—two short swords, a dozen knives, and at least three smaller, hidden daggers.
One of the guards rubbed his temples. "What exactly were you expecting? A battlefield?"
Kalem shrugged. "Force of habit."
Lyra sighed. "This is why you have to get a mental evaluation."
Jhaeros smirked. "At this point, they might just send you straight to the infirmary."
The scarred guard finally nodded. "Alright. He's clean. Mostly."
A younger guard leaned in. "Should we check his pants?"
Kalem gave him a flat look. "Touch me there, and you'll need a healer."
The guards decided against it.
With Kalem's arsenal confiscated—at least the parts they found—the group was finally led deeper into the camp. Whatever awaited them inside, one thing was certain.
Kalem was feeling strangely underdressed.