Sir Darius Valen arrived at the Adventure Guild before the charcoal worker had finished his second cup of water.
He entered without armor.
That surprised several people.
Darius wore a dark travel coat over reinforced leather, his sword at his side and a smaller pack across one shoulder. Nothing about him suggested ceremony, yet the Guild hall still changed when he walked through it.
Voices lowered.
Two F-ranks near the quest board moved aside without being asked.
Derrick Sorn straightened from where he had been helping the clerk organize suspended northwest contracts.
Darius ignored all of it and walked directly toward Galahad.
"You sent for me."
"Yes."
Galahad handed him the fresh incident sheet.
Darius read it once.
Then again more slowly.
His expression did not change until he reached the final line.
One charcoal worker missing.
"Derren?"
The muddy young worker nodded.
"Yes, Sir."
Darius looked toward him.
"When did you last see him?"
"Yesterday afternoon. He was checking the western stacks."
"Alone?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
The worker swallowed.
"They’re close to camp. Usually."
"Usually."
Darius glanced toward Iris.
She already had her bow across her back.
"Lantern found?"
"Yes," the worker said. "Near the edge of the western burn area."
"Broken?"
"No."
"Still had oil?"
"I think so."
"Blood?"
"None that we saw."
"Weapon?"
"He carried a wood axe."
"Found?"
The worker shook his head.
"No."
Darius looked toward Galahad.
"Anything else?"
"The white mark."
Darius’s eyes settled on the route stake Iris had recovered the previous day.
"Same?"
"According to him."
Iris stepped forward.
"I need to see it before rain, workers, or curious adventurers destroy whatever remains."
Darius nodded.
"We leave now."
Kael stood beside the Guild counter.
"Your assignment?"
Darius looked toward him.
"Inspect the disappearance site. Establish whether Derren left voluntarily, was injured, or was taken. Confirm whether the white mark matches the previous route indicators."
"And if the trail continues?"
Darius glanced toward Galahad.
The Guild leader answered.
"Do not turn the inspection into an indefinite pursuit."
Darius nodded once.
Iris did too.
The charcoal worker looked between them.
"Shouldn’t more people come?"
"No," Iris said.
He frowned.
"What if whatever took Derren is still there?"
Darius looked at him.
"Then more untrained people would give it more targets."
The man stopped asking.
Kael looked toward Darius.
"One more thing."
"Yes?"
"Bring back an answer if you can."
Darius’s gaze moved briefly toward Rellan’s pack sitting inside Galahad’s office.
"That is the intention."
They left.
Kael stayed behind again.
He was becoming increasingly tired of that sentence.
Yet there was nowhere else he was more useful.
Not yet.
Galahad still needed to complete the senior classification review.
The Guild needed the older testimony organized.
The northwest restrictions needed enforcement.
And somewhere inside all of that, nearly seventy registered adventurers needed to continue functioning as though their Guild had not just discovered that something might be deliberately drawing people off established roads.
Kael looked toward Galahad.
"What do you need from me?"
"House records."
"What kind?"
"Anything involving disappearances northwest of Blackwood before the Guild opened."
Kael’s expression changed.
"That could be years."
"I don’t want years."
Galahad pointed toward the map.
"Start with the last twelve months."
Better.
Focused.
Kael nodded.
"Workers?"
"Missing woodcutters. Charcoal burners. Hunters. Merchants. Travelers. Anyone reported overdue and never accounted for."
"Bandit reports?"
"Separate pile."
"Animal attacks?"
"Only unexplained ones."
Kael turned toward the door.
"Edwin is going to love this."
"He already loves paper."
"That is not the same as loving more paper."
Galahad almost smiled.
Kael left for the manor.
The Guild stayed open behind him.
That mattered.
It would keep staying open until someone proved it could not.
The charcoal camp sat farther northwest than Kael had expected when the Guild first began taking contracts there.
Darius had been there before.
Iris had too.
The worker leading them had not stopped looking over his shoulder since they left the established road.
"You hear something?" Iris asked.
The man shook his head quickly.
"No."
"Then stop turning around."
He swallowed.
"Easy for you to say."
"Yes."
He stared at her.
Iris continued walking.
Darius said nothing.
The established route remained clear enough for carts. Wheel ruts marked the packed earth, and several places showed where charcoal wagons had repeatedly widened the road over time.
Nothing about it looked like the route to something dangerous.
That bothered Darius more than an obviously threatening road would have.
Ordinary places killed people more easily because ordinary places taught them not to pay attention.
The charcoal camp appeared shortly before midday.
Low timber shelters stood around several covered burn pits. Stacked wood formed dark walls between work areas, and thin columns of smoke drifted from earth-covered mounds farther uphill.
Work had nearly stopped.
Fifteen men stood around the central shelter.
Only three appeared to be doing anything useful.
The rest were waiting.
The camp foreman approached as soon as he recognized Darius.
"Sir."
"Your people stayed out of the western stacks?"
"Yes."
"All of them?"
The foreman hesitated.
Darius looked at him.
"All of them?"
"Yes."
Iris walked past before the conversation could continue.
"Show me the lantern."
The young worker led her west.
Darius followed.
The foreman came with them.
The burn stacks thinned gradually until the ground became less disturbed by daily work.
The forest began only thirty paces beyond the final timber pile.
Iris stopped.
"From here."
The worker nodded.
"Derren was supposed to inspect the last three stacks. Make sure nothing had collapsed after the previous night."
"Time?"
"Before supper."
"You noticed he was missing when?"
"He always ate with us."
The foreman answered this time.
"When he didn’t come back, two men checked."
"Lantern?"
"Found there."
He pointed.
Iris crouched.
The lantern remained where they had left it.
Darius noticed the problem immediately.
It stood upright.
Not dropped.
Placed.
Iris touched nothing.
"Who moved this?"
"No one," the foreman said.
"Certain?"
"Yes."
She leaned closer.
The metal was dented from use but intact.
The wick remained inside.
Oil remained in the reservoir.
Darius looked toward the worker.
"You said he went out before dark?"
"Yes."
"Then why was he carrying a lantern?"
The worker frowned.
"He always did for the western stacks."
"Why?"
Silence.
Iris looked up.
The foreman answered reluctantly.
"People don’t like being here near dusk."
"Because of the voices?"
His expression changed.
There it was.
Darius folded his arms.
"How long?"
The foreman stared toward the forest.
"Depends who you ask."
"I’m asking you."
"Months."
"Six?"
"Maybe."
"A year?"
The man hesitated.
"Could be."
The young worker shifted.
Darius looked at him.
"You heard them too?"
"Once."
"What did you hear?"
The man rubbed both hands together.
"My sister."
Darius’s face hardened.
"Your sister works here?"
"She lives twenty miles south."
Iris stopped examining the lantern.
"When did you hear her?"
"About three months ago."
"What did the voice say?"
"My name."
Only that.
Somehow that made it worse.
Iris stood.
"You followed it?"
"No."
"Why?"
The worker looked embarrassed.
"My sister wouldn’t be in the western forest."
Good.
Someone had made the correct decision.
Darius looked toward the foreman.
"And you reported this?"
"To the road wardens."
"Which ones?"
"Different men came through."
"Names?"
"I don’t know all of them."
"Anyone from House Halwen?"
The foreman looked uncomfortable.
"One clerk came after we complained about missing carts last winter."
"What did he conclude?"
"Animals."
Darius’s jaw tightened.
Iris had moved ten paces toward the tree line.
She raised one hand.
Everyone stopped speaking.
She crouched beside an ash tree.
White.
A single slash.
Paint or chalk.
Roughly shoulder height.
Same width.
Same downward angle as the stake recovered from the western trail.
Iris leaned close.
"Do not touch it."
No one did.
She moved around the tree.
Another mark sat on the far side.
Darius approached.
"Same direction?"
"No."
Iris pointed.
"The outer slash is visible from camp."
Then she indicated the second.
"This one is visible after you enter the trees."
The foreman went pale.
"That wasn’t there before."
Iris looked at him.
"When is before?"
"Two days ago."
"Certain?"
"I walked this edge."
Iris searched the ground.
Dry earth made tracking difficult.
Charcoal dust complicated it further.
Workers had moved back and forth here for years.
She spent nearly ten minutes without speaking.
Then:
"Boot."
Darius looked where she pointed.
A partial heel impression beside exposed roots.
"Derren?"
"No way to know."
Another print.
Then a third.
Leading west.
Iris followed.
Twenty paces.
Thirty.
The signs weakened.
Then she found something caught on a thorn.
Dark cloth.
The worker inhaled sharply.
"That’s his coat."
Iris looked toward him.
"Color?"
"Brown."
"That narrows nothing."
"Patch."
He pointed.
"There. Blue thread. His wife repairs everything with blue thread."
Iris removed the cloth carefully.
Likely Derren.
Not proof alone.
Enough to continue.
Darius looked back toward the camp.
"How far are we?"
"Forty yards," Iris said.
"Still inside your normal work boundary?" he asked the foreman.
"No."
"Would Derren have reason to come here?"
"No."
Iris crouched again.
"Unless he heard something."
Nobody answered.
They moved farther.
The forest changed quickly.
The sounds from the camp faded.
The ground descended toward a narrow stone depression between two ridges.
Iris stopped at the top.
This time, Darius did not need her to point.
Blood marked a pale stone.
Not much.
A few drops.
Then more on the leaves below.
The foreman whispered:
"Oh, gods."
Iris descended.
Darius followed.
The worker started after them.
Darius turned.
"You stay."
"But—"
"Stay."
He stayed.
At the bottom of the depression, Iris found Derren’s axe.
The handle had snapped near the head.
Blood marked the remaining wood.
Darius crouched.
"His?"
"Unknown."
The blade itself was clean.
That mattered.
If Derren had struck something, he had missed.
Or the axe had broken before contact.
Iris moved again.
The blood trail continued.
More now.
Ten feet.
Twenty.
Then stopped.
Completely.
Darius stood.
"Stopped?"
"Yes."
"No drag?"
"No."
"Footprints?"
"None I trust."
He looked upward.
The trees above them were tall and tightly packed.
Something moved through the canopy.
Both reacted instantly.
Darius’s sword cleared its sheath.
Iris had an arrow nocked before the leaves finished shaking.
A black bird exploded from the branches.
The foreman cursed from above.
Iris lowered the bow.
Darius did not immediately sheath his sword.
He looked at the blood.
Then the trees.
"Same problem as Rellan."
"Yes."
"Ground trail ends."
"Yes."
Darius’s expression darkened.
Iris moved in a slow circle.
Then stopped beside the trunk of an enormous pine.
Marks ran through the bark.
Four.
Deep.
Higher than Darius’s shoulders.
Not old.
Sap still shone in the wounds.
Iris stared.
Darius joined her.
"Same size as the first rise?"
"Close."
"Can you identify it?"
"No."
Darius placed one hand near the lowest cut without touching it.
The grooves were wider than a sword slash.
Too irregular for an axe.
They curved slightly downward.
Claws.
Probably.
That word was becoming intolerable.
Iris stepped back.
"We have enough."
Darius looked toward the blood trail.
"We have no Derren."
"No."
"Could still be alive."
"Yes."
"Could be nearby."
"Yes."
Darius looked at her.
She held his gaze.
"If we continue west, we are no longer inspecting the disappearance site."
He knew.
That did not make stopping easier.
The foreman was watching from above.
His missing worker might be a hundred yards farther ahead.
Or ten miles.
Or dead.
Darius sheathed his sword.
"Mark the location."
Iris nodded.
They documented everything.
Lantern placement.
White marks.
Cloth.
Boot impressions.
Blood.
Broken axe.
Abruptly ending trail.
Fresh claw damage.
Iris took a small sample of the white marking from an edge already flaking loose.
She took Derren’s axe.
They left the blood where it was.
One question remained.
Darius climbed back toward the waiting workers.
The foreman looked at him immediately.
"Did you find him?"
"No."
The word hit hard.
"Is he alive?"
"I don’t know."
"Then you’re stopping?"
Darius looked toward the forest.
"Yes."
The man’s face twisted.
"Why?"
"Because two more people disappearing while searching for one does not help him."
The foreman looked away.
He hated the answer.
Darius hated giving it.
It remained correct.
"Pull everyone from the western stacks," Darius said.
The foreman looked back.
"How many?"
"All."
"But those burns—"
"Can be rebuilt."
"That’s weeks of work."
"Derren cannot."
Silence.
The foreman nodded.
"All right."
That decision was completed before Darius left.
The western burn area was shut.
No lone inspections.
No workers following voices.
No one crossed beyond the marked safe perimeter without Guild or House authorization.
For the first time in months, the charcoal camp treated the western forest as a threat instead of a rumor.
At Blackwood Manor, Edwin had converted Kael’s request into four stacks.
MISSING — UNRESOLVED
MISSING — LATER ACCOUNTED FOR
CONFIRMED BANDITRY
ANIMAL / OTHER
Kael stood across from him.
"How many unresolved?"
"Five."
Kael’s expression changed.
"In twelve months?"
"Five reports involving people who did not return and were never confirmed elsewhere."
"Northwest?"
Edwin tapped the papers.
"Three definitely."
"And the other two?"
"One west-central. One location unclear."
Kael reached for the first northwest report.
A hunter.
Eight months ago.
Left alone.
Never returned.
No body.
The second involved two woodcutters.
Five months ago.
Their cart was found.
One horse missing.
No bodies.
The third involved a traveler whose family reported him overdue three months earlier.
Last confirmed at a roadside stop northwest of Blackwood.
Kael looked toward Edwin.
"Why have I never seen these?"
"Because none were filed as one problem."
Edwin’s expression tightened.
"The hunter became presumed animal death."
"The woodcutters?"
"Possible bandit attack."
"The traveler?"
"Departure uncertainty."
Kael looked at the three papers.
Different categories.
Different months.
Same region.
Perhaps coincidence.
Perhaps not.
"Any white marks?"
"No mention."
"Voices?"
"No."
"Large tracks?"
"No."
Kael exhaled.
Useful, but incomplete.
Edwin looked toward him.
"What do you want done?"
"Copy these three for Galahad."
"That is all?"
"For now."
Edwin nodded.
Kael did not order a new investigation.
The Guild already had one.
These records belonged inside it.
Nothing more.
Darius and Iris returned near sunset.
This time, the Guild hall recognized their expressions before either spoke.
Galahad came out from behind the counter.
"Office."
Kael had returned twenty minutes earlier with Edwin’s copied records.
He followed.
Darius placed the broken axe on the table.
Iris set the cloth beside it.
Then a small sealed packet containing white residue.
Galahad stared.
"Derren?"
"No," Darius said.
"Blood?"
"Yes."
"How much?"
"Enough to prove injury. Not enough to prove death."
"Trail?"
Iris answered.
"Ends."
Galahad looked at her.
"Ends how?"
"Blood continues into a stone depression. Then nothing."
"No footprints?"
"Nothing reliable."
"Drag?"
"No."
"Same large sign?"
Iris nodded.
"Fresh claw marks."
The room became still.
Kael placed Edwin’s three reports on the table.
Darius noticed.
"What are those?"
"Unresolved disappearances from the last year."
Galahad looked toward him sharply.
"How many?"
"Three confirmed northwest."
That changed the meeting.
Not one missing adventuring party.
Not one missing charcoal worker.
Potentially older disappearances in the same broad region.
Galahad read the reports.
Hunter.
Two woodcutters.
Traveler.
He laid them in chronological order.
Eight months.
Five months.
Three months.
Then the Guild’s recent incidents.
Animal kills.
Panic.
Cries.
False route marker.
Rellan.
Derren.
Darius folded his arms.
"This is no longer a C-rank problem."
"We already closed the C-rank search," Galahad said.
"I know."
"What are you recommending?"
Darius looked toward Iris.
She answered first.
"Threat floor?"
"Yes."
"B."
Kael watched Galahad.
He did not immediately respond.
Darius added, "At minimum."
Galahad looked toward him.
"At minimum is not the same as A."
"No."
Darius’s answer came without hesitation.
Kael appreciated that.
They were not going to inflate the classification because Darius was uneasy.
Galahad looked toward Iris.
"What pushes it higher?"
"Multiple coordinated threats."
"Explain."
"The white marks require intelligence."
She pointed toward the recovered residue.
"The false Guild marker definitely required intelligence."
Then toward the reports.
"The creature sign may be separate."
Kael understood.
"If there is a person or group deliberately steering travelers toward a dangerous creature—"
"Then the difficulty is not only the creature," Iris said.
"It is the system around it."
"Yes."
Galahad looked toward Darius.
"And your assessment?"
"The creature itself remains unidentified."
"Could you kill it?"
Darius’s expression became almost offended.
"That is not a classification method."
Kael smiled despite himself.
Galahad did not.
"Could you?"
"I don’t know what it is."
Exactly.
Galahad sat down.
Blackwood had no B-rank adventurers.
It had no A-rank adventurers.
The practical distinction mattered less to immediate staffing than it normally would.
It mattered enormously to what they did next.
A B-rank investigation might justify experienced Guild personnel and House support.
An A-rank mission meant something capable of wiping out strong parties, threatening settlements, or requiring exceptional specialists.
Galahad looked at the evidence.
"B-rank."
Derrick, standing outside the partly open office door, went completely still.
Galahad noticed him.
"Come in."
Derrick entered.
"What?"
"I am classifying the northwest incident as B-rank effective immediately."
Derrick looked toward Rellan’s pack.
"Then who goes?"
"No one tonight."
His jaw tightened.
Galahad continued before he could argue.
"B-rank is not a command to leave immediately. It tells us the level of responsibility required before we send anyone."
Derrick nodded slowly.
Galahad picked up the fresh incident sheet.
He crossed out:
PENDING SENIOR REVIEW
Then wrote:
CURRENT CLASSIFICATION: B-RANK INVESTIGATION
Reason for escalation:
Multiple missing persons
Deliberate route manipulation
Unidentified large threat
Historical incidents predating Guild operations
Current casualty status unknown
He stopped.
Then added:
Northwest operational closure remains in effect.
The classification review was finished.
That was the answer the day had been built to obtain.
Not A-rank.
Not yet.
B-rank.
Earned by evidence.
Kael looked toward Galahad.
"What would make it A?"
Galahad put down the quill.
"Evidence that the threat exceeds a B-rank team’s reasonable ability to investigate or contain."
"More missing people?"
"Possibly."
"Confirmed large creature?"
"Possibly."
"Organized intelligent opposition?"
"That would matter."
Darius looked toward the map.
"Or finding what lies west."
No one disagreed.
Derrick looked toward Galahad.
"Blackwood has no B-ranks."
"No."
"So we still have the same problem."
"Not exactly."
Galahad stood.
"Yesterday we did not know what kind of mission we were preparing for."
He tapped the classification.
"Now we do."
Derrick looked unconvinced.
"What changes?"
"Everything about who I am willing to send."
Kael glanced toward Darius.
House Kael possessed people stronger than the Guild’s current rank roster.
That did not mean the answer was simply sending Black Dragons into every dangerous place.
This was still a Guild investigation.
But it was becoming clear that Blackwood’s young Guild could not finish it alone.
Galahad looked toward the board outside.
"No recruitment fiction."
Kael raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"We do not promote someone to B because we need one."
Derrick looked away.
That was clearly aimed at him.
"We either find qualified outside support," Galahad continued, "or House Kael provides temporary assistance under Guild mission structure."
Darius nodded.
"Reasonable."
Kael looked at the incident sheet.
"And while we arrange that?"
"We keep the route closed."
"Charcoal camp?"
"Western stacks are closed."
Darius nodded.
"Done."
"Older reports?"
Kael tapped the three copies.
"Added."
"Derren site?"
Iris laid her field notes beside the evidence.
"Documented."
Galahad looked around the office.
For the first time since Rellan vanished, several immediate tasks had actual endings.
C-rank reconnaissance.
Finished.
Guild records review.
Finished.
Historical first-pass check.
Finished.
Derren disappearance-site inspection.
Finished.
Threat classification review.
Finished.
The people were still missing.
The greater problem remained.
But the investigation itself was moving.
That mattered.
Galahad took a clean sheet.
"Tomorrow we prepare the B-rank search team."
Derrick looked toward him.
"And then?"
Galahad’s eyes settled on the western edge of the map.
"Then we go farther than the first rise."
No one in the room noticed that outside the Guild, high above Blackwood’s western forest, three dark shapes crossed the evening sky.
They flew too far away to identify clearly.
But they were heading west.
Toward the same forest where people had been disappearing for months.
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