Kaelith stopped walking when he heard the bowstring creak behind him. He'd been running for three days now, pushing deeper into the Eastwood where the old stories said the sanctuary might hide. The archer had been on him since dawn, silent except for the rhythm of boots on wet leaves. Kaelith turned slowly, hands visible, and saw the crest on the quiver — his family's seal, reversed and worn. The archer didn't lower the bow. Kaelith scanned the ground while keeping the archer in his sight. Moss-covered quivers sat at the bases of three different trees, all within bowshot range. Each one held a full set of arrows. The archer had been tracking him longer than three days. This wasn't pursuit. This was a hunt with staging points, with backup supplies, with patience his father would approve of. The archer shifted weight, and Kaelith saw the reversed seal again — not stolen, not accidental. Whoever this was wore his family's mark by right and had been sent to bring him back or make sure he never arrived. Kaelith touched the silver ring in his ear and made his choice. He couldn't outrun someone who knew these woods well enough to cache supplies. He couldn't talk his way past family duty when the archer had been sent specifically because words wouldn't work. So he reached for his own bow, slow and clear, and nocked an arrow. The archer's stance didn't change, but something in the stillness shifted. This would end one way or another before sunset, and Kaelith would either find the sanctuary as a free man or his father would win without ever leaving the palace. The first arrow to fly would decide which. The archer spoke then, voice rough from disuse. "The watchtower is half a day north. You'll pass it if you keep running." The bow lowered, just slightly. Kaelith saw the archer's face clearly for the first time — younger than expected, with an ear piercing that matched his own. "I wore his seal because he paid me to. But I'm done wearing things for money." The archer stepped sideways into the trees, leaving the sightline open. Kaelith stood frozen, arrow still nocked, watching the gap where his hunter had been. When he finally moved forward, he left his own quiver behind at the fourth tree, moss already starting to claim the leather.