Chapter 21: Stillness Between Storms
Time passed, and the Forest of Trials was now wrapped in a heavy blanket of darkness. Faint howls echoed in the distance, but within the fortified encampment, quiet murmurs and the occasional crackle of fire dominated the soundscape. At the edge of the settlement, Silas lay sprawled across the broad back of his undead bear, using its rotting flank as an improvised mattress. The beast lay motionless, its hollow chest rising and falling with eerie stillness as Silas napped, entirely unconcerned with the fortification efforts going on around him.
All around them, the air smelled of pine, sweat, and lingering smoke—signs of recent hard labor. Silas remained unmoved.
"Hey... you just gonna sleep all day?"
Cynthia's voice rang out from below, cutting through the quiet as she shouted up at Silas from the ground.
"Huh...?"
He groggily opened one eye, then the other, blinking away the blur. Surrounding him now was a fortress of wooden walls, sturdy and expertly constructed. The design resembled that of the earlier delinquent stronghold—but this one was clearly better: reinforced support beams, watch platforms, and even a crude gate system. It was more than shelter. It was defensive. Professional. Wartime-ready.
Seems like they took my advice to heart...
Silas yawned and stretched, arms flopping limply to either side. In one exaggerated motion, he rolled off the bear's back and plummeted unceremoniously to the ground, landing flat on his face with a muted thud.
"Agghh..."
He groaned, spitting out a bit of dirt and brushing strands of grass from his face. Leaves stuck to his cheek like green tattoos.
He staggered upright, still wiping soil off his chin. His clothes were wrinkled, and his bangs hung messily in front of sleepy eyes.