Karzak Skytalon's Arc

Chapter 6 of 10

Karzak stood in the garrison's map room and stared at empty valleys. The orc's information had sent him northwest for six days. He found abandoned camps and cold fire pits. No recent tracks. No supply caches. The warlord had changed course or the prisoner had lied. Either way, the trail was gone. Karzak's talons scraped against the stone floor. Weeks of careful tracking had led to nothing. He climbed to the garrison's upper platform where scouts maintained signal equipment. A relay station stood at the edge—mirrors arranged in a metal frame to bounce light between outposts. One of the mirrors hung cracked, its surface split down the middle. The break sent light beams sideways instead of forward. Karzak stepped closer and examined the damage. Fresh scratches marked the frame. Someone had tampered with it. Messages from forward scouts would have been redirected, their warnings sent to empty hillsides. The orc's information might have been accurate, but the signals confirming it never reached the garrison. Karzak's crest feathers flattened against his skull. The warlord had hunters tracking him now, and he knew it. Outside the garrison walls, Karzak walked past a stone monument. The troll statue lay broken in the grass, its head separated from its body. Burgundy and gold dust from nearby plants covered the pieces, glowing faintly in the afternoon light. The garrison commander had placed it here years ago as a warning—a reminder of an ambush that failed when overconfidence replaced planning. Karzak stared at the severed head. Commander Thrace had taught him to verify every source and double-check every signal. He had rushed forward on one prisoner's word and ignored the basics. The warlord was still out there, now warned that someone was hunting him. A tree grew near the garrison's south wall, its branches spreading wide over a patch of open ground. Pale lavender and teal light pulsed gently through the canopy. Karzak sat beneath it and let the soft glow wash over his feathers. The hunt had turned backward. His network had been useful, but it had also made him visible. The warlord knew someone was tracking him now and would adjust his movements accordingly. Karzak spread his map across his knees and studied the marked valleys. He would need to start over, build the pattern again from older information, and move more carefully. Commander Thrace had fallen because the warlord struck first. Karzak would not make the same mistake. He folded the map and stood. The setback hurt, but the hunt was not finished.