The Wisteria Accond

Chapter Two

The outpost is quiet. Too quiet.

Soren and I step inside, and the heavy wooden door creaks shut behind us with a low groan. The sound echoes off the stone walls, cutting through the stillness. I feel the prickle of unease crawl up my spine as my eyes adjust to the dim light. The outpost is little more than a stone fortress, fortified with layers of wisteria draped along the walls and woven through the beams. We keep it lit by the soft glow of lanterns, their warm light flickering against the cold, gray stones. But today, something feels... different. Off.

I nod to the guards on duty—Dana, a fierce woman with sharp eyes and a reputation for being deadly accurate with a bow, and Corin, a giant of a man with a heart to match. Both of them look more tense than usual, and I don't like it.

"Morning, Captain," Dana says, giving me a sharp nod. Her dark hair is pulled back in a tight braid, and there's a glint in her hazel eyes that suggests she's been on edge all night. "You're here early. Did the council meeting go that badly?"

"Bad enough," I reply, keeping my voice low. "But that's not why we're here. Any news?"

Corin, who's been leaning against the wall, straightens up, his face grim. "Couple of travelers reported seeing shadows moving outside the wisteria line last night. Said it didn't feel like animals."

I exchange a look with Soren. Shadows moving outside the wisteria line could mean anything—a trick of the moonlight, a frightened imagination. But when people say it doesn't feel like animals, that's different. That's instinct. Fear. The kind of fear that's been drilled into our bones for generations.

"Anything else?" I ask.

"Nothing concrete," Dana says. "But the men are getting restless. There've been more sightings this past month than in the last year combined. If it keeps up, people are going to start questioning whether the Wisteria Accord is really keeping us safe."

I nod slowly. This is what I've been afraid of—anxiety spreading through the ranks like a sickness. And where anxiety goes, panic follows. The Nightborne thrive on that kind of chaos.

"Let's not jump to conclusions," I say, keeping my tone even. "But we should be prepared. Soren and I will take a small team and scout the perimeter. If there's anything out there, we'll find it."

Dana nods, and I see a flash of relief cross her face. She trusts me, and that means something. The soldiers here don't need comfort; they need someone who will do what needs to be done.

"Take care out there," Corin says, his deep voice rumbling through the small space. "And keep your eyes sharp. Shadows have a way of hiding more than they reveal."

I nod, understanding the weight of his words. "We will."

I turn to Soren, who's already moving toward the armory. "Grab what you need. We leave in five."

He gives me a curt nod and disappears through the door. I watch him go, my mind already racing through the possibilities. If there's a rogue Nightborne near our borders, we need to know. And if it's more than one... Well, we'll deal with that when the time comes.

I head to the small storage room next to the armory, where we keep our most important supplies. The door is heavy, reinforced with iron, and I push it open with a grunt. Inside, shelves are lined with vials of wisteria oil, bundles of dried wisteria blossoms, and an assortment of weapons—each one marked with the delicate purple hue of the flower that has become our lifeline. I grab a vial of the oil and tuck it into my belt, then reach for a pair of daggers, their blades etched with wisteria patterns that shimmer faintly in the dim light.