"The Dawn that Rose from Fire"

Day 14 of Novel November- Alenyah and the Party travel north to Veilwatch Keep.

It would be a week’s ride to Veilwatch Keep, the last outpost on the edge of the green lands outside the northern wastes. Berin had written letters and sent them ahead- hoping the watchers would prepare for their arrival. The road here was paved, and the riding was pretty easy and straightforward. As the gates of Eirethan closed behind them, Alenyah knew the Harmonies were watching, seven sentinels against the sky. She glanced back, and they stood atop the ridgeline like pillars.

They passed a few Ironwoods, who had dared to grow outside of the groves, and Tavren paused to peer at the peeling bark.

“This is what you meant, isn’t it?” They asked, poking with a tanned finger. Alenyah pulled Valka alongside and leaned around them to see. Underneath the silver bark, the tree almost looked to be bleeding, a dark lichen oozing from the split in the wood.

“Yes,” she replied, gut twisting.

Unable to help herself, she reached past Tavren and closed her eyes. For a moment, her will battled the blight. The sickness tried to crawl up her arm she pressed against the bark, but she easily overpowered it. A hum built at the base of her throat, flaring into an opalescent light descending down her arm. She heard the Song, unwinding the dark strands from the tree’s life force. The lichen sloughed off and drifted away, and she pulled her hand off the wood, suddenly dizzy.

“Whoah, easy there!” Tavren reached out with and steadied her by gripping the shoulder of her tunic. Alenyah was able to right herself and blink the spots away.

Foxran muttered something under her breath about “too much fuss over a tree,” but even he lingered nearby, watching the way the light seemed to cling to Alenyah as if drawn by the Song itself. Berin gave her a faint, tight smile, relieved to see her safe, and the others murmured among themselves, careful not to break the fragile quiet that had settled over the group.

“Thanks,” Alenyah muttered, fixing her tunic. Tavren’s eyes dropped to her wrist, sickly yellow with a fading bruise.

“I won’t apologize for that,” they said, nodding. “But I do have a salve for bruises, if you want it.”

A peace offering. Alenyah smiled at them.

Kaelen led them onwards, Berin riding at his side, and the day disappeared into a summer trek through rolling green hills.

The fire crackled, throwing long, flickering shadows across the clearing. Kaelen stood a little apart, amber eyes scanning the dark edges of the copse where the Ironwoods bowed in the wind. Every rustle made him tense; every distant birdcall made him shift, hand resting near the hilt of his sword.

Seth was seated cross-legged near the fire, cards fanned in his hands. “Come on, Berin, no excuses this time. You know I’ll take the lot of you.”

Berin’s brown eyes darted to the treeline before settling back on the cards. “You always say that,” he muttered, sighing as he drew. “I should have known better.”

Foxran chuckled, ruffling the edges of his satchel. “Do you even know the rules, Seth, or are you just bluffing?”

Seth grinned, exposing a row of sharp teeth. “Bluffing is half the fun, little scholar.”

Althea sat slightly apart, a tiny finger loom in her lap. Her fingers moved with delicate precision, weaving a narrow trim of deep blues and greens—threading tiny leaves into the border as she hummed a soft tune.

Tavren crouched over a pot resting on hot embers, stirring with a wooden spoon. Steam curled upward, carrying the earthy scent of roasted roots and herbs. “Eat now, think later,” Tavren said, glancing up with a small smirk. “Nothing’s going to bite you if your stomach’s full.” They ladled out bowls for the others, careful not to spill the fragrant stew.

Alenyah remained quiet, seated at the edge of the firelight, Valka’s massive head resting across her lap. She didn’t need to cook or play cards; she didn’t need to weave or joke. Her green eyes swept the group, memorizing the subtle lines of their faces, the way Kaelen’s hand hovered near his sword, the way Berin’s brows furrowed as he considered his cards. A soft hum rose in her chest, threading through the Song—feeling for the faintest tremor of the blight beyond the hills.

Foxran peeked at her from the corner of their eye. “You’re not joining us?” he asked, tilting his head.

“I’m watching,” Alenyah said softly, her fingers brushing along Valka’s pelt. “There’s a lot to keep safe, even when it seems quiet.”

Kaelen’s amber gaze flicked toward her at the sound of her voice. “We’ll watch each other,” he said simply, voice low, almost careful. “That’s all we can do tonight.”

Alenyah allowed herself a ghost of a smile. “Maybe.” Her eyes returned to the dark treeline. The firelight reflected off Valka’s black fur, and for a moment, the distant hills and blighted trees seemed almost peaceful.

Seth laughed loudly, the sound carrying across the clearing. “All right, I win this round! Cards on the ground, losers.”

Berin groaned, flicking at the dust. “You cheated.”

“I did not!” Seth protested, laughing even harder.

Alenyah let herself relax a fraction, shoulders loosening.

As the others bickered over cards and stew, Alenyah’s gaze drifted toward Kaelen. He crouched near his horse, scanning the treeline again, fingers brushing absently over the hilt of his sword. The firelight caught the amber in his eyes, making them glow like molten gold in the dark.

She shifted slightly, careful not to draw attention, and whispered to Valka, “Even the strongest need rest, yes?”

Kaelen’s gaze flicked toward her at the sound of her voice. For a heartbeat, the tension between them eased, an unspoken acknowledgment that they were the only two who carried the weight of the Song and the Wyrm’s threat in full.

“You worry too much,” he said quietly, almost a murmur.

Alenyah tilted her head, studying him. “And you don’t enough,” she replied, the edge of a smile tugging at her lips.

He blinked, as if caught off guard, and for a moment, the firelight played across his face, softening the sharpness in his jaw. “Perhaps we balance each other,” he said finally, voice low, careful.

She felt a flicker in her chest of something unspoken and raw, but she only nodded and returned her attention to Valka.

The night passed in softness, each of them taking a turn at watch, till a new sun kissed the sky.



Alenyah supposed she should have counted them lucky they had not encountered much of the blight in these lands. Each night, she tilted her ears to the wind and the Song, listening for any discord that might reveal danger. Each night she was, blessedly, disappointed. The grassy plains flattened further, and the wind chapped their lips and burned their faces with its dry rush.

Finally, a full week had passed, and on the horizon rose a promontory holding the crumbling stones of an old fortress. Spired and almost gothic in appearance, the dark stones drew in all light. Alenyah thought it was like blinking into a void in the shaft of sunlight. The lands around Veilwatch were withered, corn, husks yellowed far too early in the season.

They kept a weather eye on the horizon and another eye on the dying vegetation. With the fields and sunlight, Alenyah thought something should be growing here. Valka whined, pace slowing as though she wanted to turn back, change course. The Fey’ri spurred her up alongside Berin, who was looking at the approaching keep with a furrowed brow.

“What do you have for us about this place, scholar?” She asked, a lilt of teasing in her voice. But Berin only frowned. He pointed up at the highest spire.

“Do you see that?”

Alenyah squinted. The spire had an opening at the peak, and within burned a fire, guttering and dim. The winds from the north battered the flames about.

“You mean the fire?” Kaelen asked, pulling up beside them. He shielded his eyes with his hand. “What about it?”

“It is supposed to be, well, bigger.” Berin said lamely. He spread his arms, “It was like a lighthouse on land, guiding lost travellers. It's easy to get lost on these plains if you aren’t sure where you’re going. And after the Keep, you need to turn Eastword because the mountains north are impassable.”

“They built this after I brought my people through here,” Alenyah said. She was impressed at the size, and how Stoneborn and Rhea had worked together to create it. “I’m not sure how it is supposed to look.”

“It looks pretty dreary!” Althea called from behind. “Is that where we are staying?” The party paused on top of a low hill, unsure of how to move forward.

“Do you think it is abandoned?” Kaelen asked Berin. Alenyah’s pulse quickened. She had hoped they could replenish their supplies before crossing into the more frozen unforgiven parts of the wastes. Her breath whooshed out in relief as Berin shook his head.

“I’d say if it was abandoned, the flames would have gone out.”

Kaelen motioned Seth over. The darker Stoneborn bent his head towards Kaelen, eyes still on the forbidding structure.

“Ride ahead and see what welcome awaits us.” Seth started to spur his horse, but Kaelen grabbed his arm. They exchanged a glance. “No risks, and be careful.”

“Come now, Kaelen.” Seth smirked. “It’s like you don’t know me at all!”