"Who's there?" Kale asked sharply, his grip tightening on the spear as he rose to his feet. The footsteps outside his little cave had stopped abruptly, replaced by an eerie silence that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He wasn't about to take chances—not in this place. Slowly, he stepped out of the cave entrance, his eyes scanning the mist-shrouded clearing.
To his surprise, standing a few paces away was a boy around his age. His black hair stuck out in messy tufts, and his round face carried a nervous smile. He was slightly chubby, with wide eyes that darted between Kale and the spear pointed at him. "Wait, wait!" the boy stammered, raising both hands defensively. "I'm friendly!"
Kale lowered the spear slightly but didn't let his guard down completely. "What do you want?" he demanded, his tone clipped.
The boy hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "I'm... alone," he admitted sheepishly. "Maybe we could partner up? I don't know anyone here, and it seems like everyone else already has groups."
Kale frowned, suspicion flickering across his features. Something about the boy felt off—too eager, too convenient—but he kept quiet, waiting for more information.
"My name is Alden," the boy continued, lowering his hands cautiously. "I'm new to the sect. They took me in because of my talent for the Shallows—and maybe even the Deep Currents someday." His voice carried a hint of pride, though it wavered under Kale's scrutinizing gaze.
Kale studied Alden carefully. The boy didn't look particularly dangerous—he seemed clumsy, almost naive—but appearances could be deceiving. Still, curiosity got the better of him. "Where are you from?" he asked finally, relaxing his stance just slightly.
Alden brightened at the question, happy to share. "I'm from a small village near the Lake of Mist," he explained. "You've heard of it?"
"The Lake of Mist?" Kale echoed, tilting his head slightly. "Can't say I have."
"Oh, well..." Alden scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "It's a pretty remote place. Most people there are normal seekers—farmers, fishermen, that sort of thing. But the fishermen aren't exactly ordinary. They're seekers too, though no sect has ever found much use for them. Except me." He grinned proudly. "I gleaned some insight into swordsmanship, so they sent me here instead."
Kale raised an eyebrow skeptically. "And what brings you all the way out here, alone?"
Alden hesitated briefly before answering. "Well, I overheard some sect members talking about rare materials in these valleys—near your cave, actually," he added quickly. "I thought maybe if I teamed up with someone, we could split the spoils. You seem resourceful enough to survive this long without help, so..."
Kale considered the offer silently, his mind racing. Partnering up could have its advantages—a second pair of eyes, shared resources, someone to watch his back—but trusting Alden felt risky. There was something unsettling about how easily the boy had approached him, how conveniently he'd offered his knowledge.
Still, Alden seemed harmless enough—for now. And having temporary company might not be the worst idea. "Fine," Kale said after a pause, lowering the spear entirely. "But if you try anything funny, I won't hesitate to put this through you."
Alden held up his hands again, his grin returning. "Deal! Don't worry, I'm not looking for trouble. Just trying to make it through this festival alive."
Alive? Kale thought, narrowing his eyes slightly. Why did that sound odd? He pushed the thought aside for now, chalking it up to paranoia. After all, who wouldn't want to survive?
As they settled down to discuss their next move, Kale couldn't shake the nagging feeling that Alden was hiding something. The boy's story checked out well enough, but something about his demeanor—the overly friendly tone, the rehearsed explanations—felt forced. For now, though, Kale decided to play along. If Alden turned out to be untrustworthy, Kale would deal with him when the time came.