"But… but we haven't even confronted them." One of the younger guards stammered, eyes wide with disbelief.
The commander turned, his face twisted with scorn. "If you're feeling bold, go ahead. Confront them."
The young guard paled, his mouth opening and closing uselessly. The darkness seemed to press in tighter, and the wind carried the faint whisper of shifting leaves… or perhaps something else. Heart pounding, he remained silent.
Without another word, the commander turned and slipped back into the night, the rest of the guards following swiftly behind.
In the stillness that followed, only the trees remained as silent witnesses, their branches swaying softly beneath the pale moon.
Back under the shelter of the trees, Aramis lowered his bow, eyes narrowing into the darkness. "They're gone," he muttered, voice barely above a whisper. The others relaxed slightly, but none of them let their guard down.
...
