Snippet Lorekeeper's Arc

Chapter 6 of 8

The academy's twenty-third graduation should have been routine, but Snippet watched her newest class stumble through the final trial with growing concern. Three students failed to return from the forest hunt on time, and when they finally appeared, one carried a deep gash across his shoulder. The wound came from a creature they should have handled easily—a basic forest stalker. Snippet examined their weapons and found dull blades and poorly maintained gear. She'd been so focused on training new groups that she'd stopped checking if students were actually ready. That evening, she stood alone in the training hall and realized her mistake. The academy had grown too fast, and she'd let standards slip to keep up with demand. The next morning, Snippet walked the forest paths to think. She needed to understand how far her standards had fallen. Near the eastern boundary, she found an old elven shack she'd passed countless times before. The structure looked worse now—charred wood showed where fire had scorched it, and exposed beams jutted out at broken angles. Monsters had attacked this area recently, leaving their mark on everything nearby. She touched the blackened wood and felt the rough texture under her fingers. This damage was fresh, maybe a week old. Her students should have spotted the signs during their patrols. They should have reported the threat before it reached this close to the academy. Instead, they'd missed it completely, too focused on finishing their training to notice real danger. Snippet stepped back from the shack and looked toward the academy through the trees. She'd built something that worked, then let it break. Now she had to decide if she could fix it or if her dream had failed for good. She spent the afternoon rebuilding the training maze deeper in the forest. The ancient trees and vines had grown wild since the last class used it. Snippet cleared paths and reset the triggers that would spring monsters at students without warning. She tested each mechanism herself, letting wooden targets swing out from behind trees and barriers drop across narrow passages. Her early graduates had feared this maze and learned from it. Now her students walked straight paths to easy kills instead. She adjusted the final trigger and heard it click into place. Tomorrow she would bring every current student here, graduated or not. Those who couldn't handle surprise attacks would train again until they could. Those who failed would leave the academy. Snippet wiped sweat from her forehead and stared at the maze entrance. Her dream hadn't failed yet, but saving it meant accepting that she'd hurt it first. She turned back toward the academy, already planning which students to pull from active duty. The work ahead would be harder than starting over, but Greenhaven needed hunters who could actually protect it. At dusk, Snippet stopped beneath a massive willow tree on the ceremony grounds. Its branches hung low, draped with delicate blossoms that caught the fading light. She'd planted it years ago after the first successful graduation, a symbol of growth and beauty amid all the training and violence. Now the tree mocked her. She'd been so busy adding more students and holding more ceremonies that she'd forgotten why the academy existed. The flowers swayed in the evening breeze, and Snippet felt the weight of every hunter she'd sent out unprepared. Tomorrow she would fix her mistake, but tonight she had to face what she'd done. The academy could be saved, but only if she stopped chasing numbers and started building real hunters again. She touched the tree's bark and made her choice. Better to train ten properly than graduate a hundred who would die in the forest.