⟢───── Ashes × Aether ─────⟣
BORDERLANDS — ALMOND VALLEY
The High Noon rail eased into the valley with a long metallic breath.
Tracks curved between two mountain walls, stone rising on either side like patient sentries.
The town revealed itself gradually as the rail slowed.
Tiered buildings cut into the slopes, smoke lifting in thin ribbons from chimneys, banners stitched with hunting marks strung between iron pylons.
The air carried wood smoke, cured meat, peppercorn, oil.
Almond Valley stayed busy.
Convoys rolled through the central thoroughfare. Cargo sleds hummed past on reinforced runners. Hunters crossed the square in loose groups, Clickers clicking softly with each step, metal braces flexing as naturally as muscle. Steam vented from compact power packs mounted at the hip.
Mechanized hounds paced beside their handlers, plated shoulders low, optics dimmed while idle.
Triple Kill stepped off the rail together.
Talla took in the town with open interest. Her eyes followed everything at once.
Gear displays, hide stalls, kids darting between crates, the way people greeted one another by name without slowing down.
She smiled easily when a woman near the platform waved them toward the market.
“Food first,” Talla said. “I smell something I must have.”
Set snorted and followed her lead.
Riven adjusted his bag and glanced up the valley. Mountains framed the sky in a narrow slice of blue. The place felt settled. Grounded. A town built around work that never stopped.
They moved into the square.
Vendors called out offers without pressure. Meat skewers sizzled over open heat. Bread cracked when torn.
A man with flour-stained hands waved them toward a long table already crowded with locals.
“Travelers eat free,” he said. “First plate.”
Talla didn’t argue.
They sat.
Food arrived fast.
Roasted game glazed with pepper and honey. Dense bread still warm. Stewed roots layered with spice. Someone set down a jug of something sharp and dark.
Talla thanked them like she meant it.
Set ate slow, relaxed. His shoulders dropped a fraction. For the first time since X’Omnera, his posture read unguarded.
Riven leaned back with his plate balanced on one knee. He listened.
Almond Valley spoke in rhythms.
Boots on stone, steam vents cycling, low conversation punctuated by laughter. Hunters compared routes. Traders argued margins. A pair of elders debated a betting spread from the hall near the eastern rise, its neon sign flickering under a carved wooden overhang.
“UCL runs tonight,” someone said nearby. “Late bracket.”
“Good. Need something to yell at.”
Talla grinned and ate.
Hospitality here came without strings. People checked on them. Asked where they’d come from. Offered directions they hadn’t requested. A man with a heavy beard clapped Set on the shoulder after noticing the Pantera glyph on his chest and told him where to find the best sharpening stones in town.
Time passed.
Plates emptied. Conversation loosened.
Talla excused herself to thank the cooks properly. She spoke with her hands, laughed once, promised to come back through the valley again.
Set leaned back on the bench and watched the square move.
That was when he heard it.
A conversation spoken by people who didn’t hide secrets from each other.
“…told them no. Straight up.”
Set’s ears angled slightly.
“…thought they could lean on us. Names, threats. Real confident.”
Set listened.
Riven shifted his weight, eyes half-lidded, attention drifting with the sound.
“…brother said fuck that. Valley feeds itself.”
A pause. The scrape of metal.
“…three days later he still hasn’t come back from the reach.”
Set glanced at Talla, who was still talking with the cooks. Then back toward the voices.
A small group stood near the edge of the square. Hunters by the look of them. Gear on. Packs light. Clickers already humming at low power. One man spoke more than the others, jaw tight, hands busy adjusting a strap he’d already checked twice.
Set leaned closer to Riven.
“Sounds familiar,” he said quietly.
Riven tilted his head just enough to catch the thread.
“…young guys,” the man continued. “Flashy. Loud. Thought it was funny.”
Riven’s mouth curved, faint.
“Yump,” he said. “That’s them.”
Talla returned, wiping her hands on a cloth. She followed Set’s gaze, then Riven’s.
“What’s up.”
Set nodded toward the group. “Might’ve found our friends.”
Talla listened for a beat. Her expression hardened.
She stood and crossed the square.
Riven didn’t stop her.
Set followed at an easy distance.
Talla approached with the same warmth she’d carried since stepping off the rail.
“Hey,” she said. “Sorry to interrupt. We couldn’t help overhearing.”
The man turned. Up close, his face held the kind of wear that came from days outdoors and nights waiting on return fires.
“You travelers,” he said.
“Just passing through,” Talla replied. “Heard you talking about someone missing.”
A few of the hunters shifted. One frowned. Another shrugged.
The man nodded once. “My brother, Pip.”
Talla didn’t rush him.
“He hunts the eastern reach,” he continued. “Knows it better than anyone. He doesn’t miss meals. Plus it’s Valley law. No one hunts alone.”
Set watched the man. Steady. Controlled.
“These loud motherfuckers came through a few days back,” the man said. “Young. Confident. Wanted us paying for protection. Pip basically told em’ to fuck off.”
Riven stepped closer, voice easy. “Got a name.”
The man looked at him. Measured him. “People call them Mince Gang, I could give two shits what they call themselves.”
That landed.
Talla didn’t react. Set didn’t either.
Riven nodded once.
“I hear you.”
The man exhaled slow and rubbed the back of his neck.
“My bad,” He said. “I’m a little worked up, you heard of them.”
“We ran into them,” Talla said. “Pretty sure it’s the same idiots.”
“Yeah?” The man studied her face. “Then you know how they move.”
Set spoke. “Where did your brother hunt last.”
The man pointed past the western rise.
“Beyond the lake. Narrow cut between the rocks. Old shack there. We checked it. Empty. The crew he was out there with said he came back with them.”
Talla rested her hands on her hips. “Well then, where is he?”
The man nodded. “Exactly. I’ll get an answer though. With or without help.”
Riven met his eyes. “Give us a description.”
The man did.
Talla listened closely. Asked questions that mattered. Height. Gear. Habits.
When he finished, she nodded. “We’ll keep an eye out.”
The man blinked. “I don’t have much to offer you guys, if anything.”
Set shrugged. “You feed people for free.”
Riven added, “Consider this our thanks.”
They turned before gratitude could slow the moment.
The square swallowed its noise back up. Steam hissed. Children ran. The betting hall sign flickered again.
Triple Kill moved toward the valley edge.
Predators, now with a direction.
The hunt had begun.
⟢───── Ashes × Aether ─────⟣