Blaine Bridger walked into town with a fiery little pug trotting at his heel. He looked like any other young man running errands, but his pockets held coiled wire, dried meat, and a folded map. Every step pushed him closer to the badlands, where his best friend was being held by a warlord he barely knew anything about. He felt the eyes before he saw them. High above the square, a tall wooden tower with narrow slits caught the afternoon light. A shadow shifted behind one of those slits. The scout had found him. Blaine kept his pace easy. He bent down, scratched the pug's flickering ears, and laughed like a man with no troubles. Then he ducked sideways into a stone pub strung with softly glowing runes. The door thudded shut behind him, cutting the scout's line of sight clean. Inside, the air smelled of smoke and old beer. A shimmering pendant hung above the bar, shaped like a bird with spread wings. The keeper watched Blaine a long moment, then unhooked the pendant and slid it across the wood. "You'll need this more than me," she said. Heat pulsed against Blaine's palm as he closed his fingers around it. When Blaine stepped back out, the pug glowed brighter at his side, and the pendant lay hidden beneath his shirt. The scout's tower stood empty now. Blaine had slipped the watch, gained something stronger than a blade, and pointed himself toward the badlands at last.

Night fell as Blaine left the town behind. The pug trotted ahead, its flame-colored fur burning brighter than ever. The pendant's magic poured through the little dog, throwing orange light across the open ground. Blaine could see his own shadow stretching long behind him. Anyone watching from a mile off would see them too. A huge skull-shaped boulder rose from the dirt ahead, its stone eyes catching the pug's glow and burning red. This was the edge. The badlands began here. Blaine crouched behind the skull rock and tried to think. The sword on his back caught the light and threw bright flickers across the stone. Even his blade betrayed him now. The land beyond opened into a deep ravine, steep walls on both sides and a thin stream at the bottom. No trees. No brush. Nothing to hide behind. The pug's light bounced off the pale rock walls and lit the whole gap like a lantern. Blaine swore under his breath. He could not walk that path glowing like a torch. He knelt and pulled the pendant from under his shirt. The pug whined and pressed against his leg. Blaine wrapped the pendant tight in a strip of cloth from his pack, then tucked it deep into a crack in the skull rock. The glow on the pug faded to a soft ember. The sword dimmed too. Blaine breathed again. But the magic was gone now, left behind at the threshold. He had traded power for cover. Blaine lifted the pug, stepped into the dark ravine, and started down toward the warlord's land with nothing but his blade and his nerve.

Blaine carried the pug down into the dark ravine, one hand on his sword. The walls rose tall on both sides. The little dog's nose twitched in the cold air. Then it stiffened. Its ears went up. Before Blaine could tighten his grip, the pug kicked free and hit the ground running. "Hey!" Blaine hissed. He grabbed for the flame-furred shape and missed. The pug shot down the ravine where the stone narrowed into a tight gully of broken shale. Its dim ember glow vanished around the bend. Blaine ran after it. His boots slid on loose rock. The gully funneled him deeper, the walls closing in until he had to turn his shoulders. He called the pug's name in a sharp whisper. Nothing answered but his own breath. He stopped where the path opened again. On the ground lay a thin line of warm embers, still glowing where the pug's paws had touched the dirt. The trail bent left and faded. Blaine knelt and pressed his fingers to one. Warm. Fresh. Then he saw what had pulled the dog away. A huge carcass slumped against the ravine wall. Matted fur, white ribs curling out of the rot. The smell hit him last, thick and sour. The pug had chased that scent and kept going. The ember trail did not lead back. It led past the body, deeper into the warlord's land. Blaine stood alone. No pug. No glow. No nose to follow his friend by. He drew the longsword from his back, and its flames woke in a low, quiet light. He had wanted to stay hidden. That choice was gone now. He stepped over the carcass and followed the embers in.