Seth sat stiffly in the rumbling Blackthorn carriage, acutely aware of the tense air thickening around him.
Seated beside him were two knights clad in full-body armor of dull grey, each bearing the Blackthorn crest on their chestplates- a circle of massed thorns entwined around a single, somber rose. Their presence was as cold and heavy as the steel they wore.
Aside from the knights and himself, two other individuals shared the cramped space- both much older, both equally silent.
The first was a tall, thin man with hollow cheeks and jittery movements. He wore a lightweight leather chestpiece and had a shield slung across his back. A tightly sheathed sword hung at his side, but judging by the way he clutched at the seat and shifted anxiously, Seth doubted he'd have the strength to draw it if needed. His face was pale, drawn tight with dread, as if he might spill the contents of his stomach at any moment.
The second man sat to the jittery one's left- a stark contrast in both form and demeanor. He was burly, black-haired, and carried a rough solidity about him. His steel chestplate, though standard issue, looked worn and tested by years of battle. His sword rested calmly across his lap, hands pressed together in front of his face, elbows braced on his knees. His eyes, shadowed beneath a heavy brow, burned with grim focus.
Seth swallowed hard, gripping the fabric of his trousers tightly to hide the tremor in his hands.
The day of his sentence had finally come.
He was on his way to join the Thornspire Subjugation Force- the Black Rose.
The carriage rocked steadily over the rough road, the constant jostling doing little to ease the knot twisting tighter in Seth's gut.
For a while, the only sounds were the creaking wheels and the occasional clink of armor. Then, low murmurs began between the two older men- the kind of half-whispered conversation meant to pass the time, or maybe to keep fear at bay.
"You hear about the last batch they sent in?" the thin man muttered, his voice cracking slightly.
The burly man grunted without lifting his head. "Yeah. Heard only a third came back. Rest either dead... or worse."
Seth strained to listen, heart hammering harder against his ribs.
"Worse?" he found himself mouthing silently.
The thinner man licked his dry lips, glancing once at the armored knights as if to make sure they weren't listening.
"They say Thornspire doesn't just kill you with beasts. It... changes you. Warps your mind if you're too slow to adjust. That place is alive in a way it shouldn't be."
The burly man finally lifted his head, his grim face hard as stone. "It's not the creatures that'll get you, boy," he said, noticing Seth's eavesdropping without any real malice.
"It's the forest itself. The air, the sounds, the silence. Spend too long without grounding yourself, and you'll start seeing things that ain't there... hearing voices calling you deeper. People lose themselves long before the monsters even get the chance."
The thin man gave a weak chuckle, but there was no humor in it.
"One poor bastard... they found him smiling, humming to himself... with his own sword sticking out his gut. Thought he was plucking flowers, they said."
Seth's mouth went dry. His knuckles whitened as he gripped his knees harder.
The burly man gave him a long, hard stare- the kind that weighed a soul.
"Keep your mind sharp, boy," he said quietly. "Your blade alone won't save you out there."
The carriage fell back into uneasy silence, the road ahead swallowing them all whole.
The carriage eventually crested a small ridge, and the forest of Thornspire finally came into view- a seething mass of dark, twisted trees that seemed to breathe with a life of their own. A heavy, unnatural mist clung low to the ground, coiling around the gnarled roots like living things.
At the very border, a makeshift camp sprawled out- a grim, battered collection of black tents, wooden palisades, and smoke rising from half-dug firepits. Soldiers moved like ghosts through the camp, their armor darkened, their faces worn thin by exhaustion and something deeper: a hollow sort of dread.
This was the Black Rose- the last line between civilization and the madness beyond.
As the carriage pulled into the camp, Seth could feel it- the weight of the place pressing down on him. Men and women, some barely older than him, moved with stiff, mechanical purpose. Some sharpened weapons already stained with strange, iridescent blood. Others simply sat by the fires, staring into the flames with empty, broken expressions.
A group of new recruits- fresh faces like his stood off to one side, pale and tense. They huddled close together, but even among themselves, there was no real comfort.
Vince's warning echoed in Seth's mind. 'If you can't prevail... better to be executed.'
Because out here, death wasn't the worst thing that could happen.
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Seth stepped down from the carriage, boots crunching against the damp, uneven ground. The knights flanking them gestured briskly, herding him and a handful of others toward a small gathering of newer recruits.
As Seth moved to join them, he glanced over his shoulder, expecting the two men from the carriage- the jittery thin man and the grim, burly one to follow.
But instead, he spotted them breaking away, heading toward a group huddled around a bonfire.
A bonfire in broad daylight.
It wasn't until then that Seth noticed how dark it was inside the camp, despite the sun supposedly being high above. The towering, thorn-covered trees loomed overhead, their massive, gnarled branches blotting out most of the sky. The thick canopy cloaked everything in a twilight gloom, forcing the camp to rely on fires even during the day.
'I guess they weren't new recruits after all,' Seth realized, watching the two men blend into the seasoned ranks.
Before he could dwell on it further, movement caught his eye.
Emerging from one of the many black tents was another figure- a knight clad in the same somber grey armor, the Blackthorn crest stitched into a dark sash at his waist. He moved with a sharp, clipped efficiency, and as he approached, the small cluster of new recruits instinctively straightened, tension crackling in the air.
The knight came to a stop before them, his helm tucked under one arm, revealing a weathered face set in a hard, no-nonsense expression.
"You lot," he said, his voice carrying easily over the restless murmur of the camp.
"Listen and listen well. You've been sentenced to Thornspire. You're expendable, but you are not helpless. Learn quickly, survive, and maybe- maybe you'll be given a second chance at life."
His sharp gaze swept across the group, lingering for a moment on Seth.
"Fail to adapt... and you'll either feed the forest, or become part of it."
A heavy silence followed those words, the meaning unmistakable.
"You will be sent on your first assignment at dawn for a proper assessment of your abilities," the knight continued, his voice cold and even.
"In the meantime, find a tent to stay in."
He paused, a faint, almost mocking chuckle slipping from his lips before he added,
"Not that it matters. No tent here stays owned by one person for too long."
The grim meaning behind his words settled heavily over them, more suffocating than the thick mist curling through the camp. Seth swallowed hard, exchanging uneasy glances with a few of the others. No one dared voice the questions burning on their tongues- What kind of assignment? How long do we have? How many even survive?
The knight, apparently satisfied with their silence, turned on his heel and strode back toward the cluster of black tents, leaving them to their own devices.
For a moment, none of them moved. It was as if stepping forward, claiming a tent, would somehow mark them for death sooner.
But the brutal efficiency of the Black Rose was clear: you had to move, you had to claim your space- or the forest, or the people around you, would claim it for you.
Seth finally forced himself into motion, choosing a battered tent near the edge of the new recruits' cluster. It sagged slightly to one side, and the ground beneath it was uneven- but it was shelter, and for now, that was enough.
As he pushed open the flap, he wondered darkly how many others had stayed there before him.
And how many hadn't walked back out.