The Hidden Camp

Lyra followed Thane into the clearing, her eyes adjusting to the camp hidden beneath a canopy of towering trees. Roughly constructed tents dotted the area, their tattered fabrics swaying in the breeze. A few people, all rugged and weary-looking, moved among them, carrying weapons, armor, and supplies. The air was thick with the scent of woodsmoke and something metallic—a reminder that these people were more than villagers; they were soldiers, hardened by war and loss.

As she walked deeper into the camp, wary gazes turned her way. Whispers floated through the air, voices laced with suspicion and curiosity.

“Is she the one?” one voice muttered.

“The girl with the mark?”

She tried to ignore them, focusing on Thane’s broad shoulders as he led her toward a larger tent at the center of the camp. Inside, several figures waited, each bearing the scars and armor of a warrior. Their eyes shifted to her as she entered, studying her with intensity.

Thane nodded to them. “This is Lyra. The girl from the prophecy.”

A tall, wiry man with graying hair and a jagged scar across his cheek sneered. “She doesn’t look like much,” he said. “We’re trusting our fate to a child?”

Lyra felt heat rise in her cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and anger. She opened her mouth to retort, but Thane raised a hand to silence her.

“Lyra may be young, but the mark is real,” he said firmly. “And we all know what that means.”

Another figure stepped forward—a woman with sharp eyes and a spear slung across her back. “The prophecy speaks of a warrior marked by the crow,” she said, her voice measured. “But it doesn’t say when she will be ready to fight. Thane, is she even trained?”

Lyra glanced at Thane, her earlier confidence wavering. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “No,” he admitted. “But she has the courage to be here, to learn. And that’s enough for now.”

The woman’s gaze softened, if only slightly. “Training will begin at dawn,” she said, looking directly at Lyra. “We can’t afford weakness among us, no matter who you are.”

Lyra swallowed, nodding. “I understand.”

The tall man with the scar scoffed. “Let’s hope you do,” he muttered. “We’ve lost too many to be babysitting some girl with stars in her eyes.”

Thane’s gaze hardened, and his voice took on a steely edge. “She’s here to help us fight the Crow Lord, just like the rest of you. Show her the respect she deserves.”

Silence fell over the tent, the warriors exchanging uneasy glances. Finally, the man with the scar looked away, muttering under his breath. Lyra felt a mixture of relief and tension, realizing just how much she had to prove to these people.

Thane turned back to her, his expression softening. “Get some rest. You’ll need it.”

She nodded, exhausted from the journey, the revelations, and the weight of the expectations around her. As she settled onto a cot in a smaller tent, the distant sounds of murmurs and clanging metal faded into the night.

Tomorrow, she would begin her training. Tomorrow, she would take her first step toward becoming the warrior the prophecy demanded.

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