Gale’s body ached from the chase, his muscles stiff and sore after hours of running. The damp air of the woods clung to his skin as the guards dragged him back toward their camp. His heart pounded as the distant sounds of the forest grew quieter, replaced by the harsh whispers of the royal patrol.

They had caught him. After weeks of illegal hunting, avoiding the kingdom’s watchful eyes, it had finally caught up with him. Now, shackled and on the ground, Gale was dragged to a small clearing where a fire crackled in the center, its flames dancing menacingly in the night.

The guards showed no mercy as they shoved him into a rickety wooden chair. His wrists burned from the shackles, and he could taste the bitter sting of failure in the back of his throat. They’d caught him. They were going to make him pay.

One of the guards, a tall man with a stony face and thick brown hair, knelt down in front of Gale, looking at him with a cold stare. “You know, running off into the woods wasn’t the smartest thing, eh? Especially when you’re doing it outside the kingdom’s borders.”

Gale stared back, refusing to show weakness. “I wasn’t hurting anyone.”

The guard didn’t flinch. “Tell that to the kingdom. The law says you can’t hunt outside the borders. You’ve been crossing lines for weeks. You think you’re above that?”

Gale’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t answer. He wasn’t going to admit anything to them. The last thing he wanted was to give them an inch.

Another guard, younger and a little more nervous-looking, stood off to the side. His eyes darted from Gale to the taller guard. “Do you think... he has something we should know? He’s been avoiding the patrols for a long time.”

The older guard stood up straight, his gaze narrowing. “He’s not some common poacher. That’s clear enough. Someone like him doesn’t just hunt for the thrill of it. He knows the land too well. Too well for a simple criminal.”

Gale’s stomach churned. They were making assumptions, and he couldn’t let that continue. The fewer details they knew about his motives, the better.

“Just tell us why you’ve been running, and we might be able to make this easier for you,” the older guard said, leaning closer. His voice dropped low, as if trying to coax a confession. “We can make sure this goes smoother. The king’s soldiers don’t need to get involved, but you have to tell us what we’re dealing with.”

Gale stiffened. The last thing he wanted was to drag this out into something bigger. His eyes flicked toward the younger guard who still looked unsure. If only the tension between them wasn’t so thick.

He shook his head, his voice hoarse but firm. “I’ve been hunting to survive. You have no right to question me. I’m not some criminal to be interrogated.”

The older guard chuckled darkly, pacing in front of him. “You don’t get to decide that, kid. You’re already deep in it now. You’re breaking the law, and you’ve been doing it for longer than you think. Your little illegal hunting trips—they aren’t just random. People don’t just sneak past royal patrols without a reason.”

Gale kept his mouth shut, eyes narrowed. The less they knew about his past and what he had been doing, the better. He was no stranger to the woods, but he wasn’t about to explain why he had been venturing outside the kingdom’s rules.

The guard’s eyes sharpened, and he crouched down to Gale’s level. “There’s more to this, isn’t there? You’re not some lone hunter. There’s something bigger going on. Who are you working with? Is it a band of rebels? Smugglers? Who’s behind this?”

Gale felt the weight of the question press against him. He had been alone for weeks. He had evaded them alone. He was never part of any group. But there was no point in trying to explain that now.

“I don’t work with anyone,” Gale said, his voice steady, though his heart raced. “I’m just trying to survive. That’s all.”

The guard didn’t seem convinced. He stood up, taking a step back, and gestured to the other soldiers. “Keep him here. We’ll see if he changes his story.”

The fire crackled loudly in the silence that followed. Gale’s mind raced, but he didn’t let the fear show. He couldn’t let them know anything about what he had seen outside the kingdom. The last thing he needed was to become a pawn in something bigger than his own struggle for freedom.

They might have caught him, but he wasn’t going to make this easy for them.

The fire crackled, casting eerie shadows that danced around Gale as the guards circled him. The younger guard stood off to the side, eyeing Gale with a mix of suspicion and unease. The older, scarred guard, meanwhile, loomed in front of him, his expression a mask of frustration.

“You’re really going to make us do this the hard way, huh?” the older guard muttered, his fingers tapping rhythmically on his sword hilt. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, thinking you can break the law and run off like this. But we’ll get the answers we need, one way or another.”

Gale’s mind raced. He couldn’t afford to let them get inside his head, but the tightening grip of the shackles around his wrists and the cold, calculating looks from the guards made it hard to ignore the mounting pressure.

The older guard wasn’t done yet. “I want to know who’s helping you. The kingdom doesn’t just let anyone wander the outskirts unchecked, especially not with the skills you’ve got. You’ve been moving like someone trained—someone who knows the land. You’ve got connections, and I want to know who they are.”

Gale locked his jaw and remained silent. He wasn’t going to betray anyone, not even the few who had helped him survive in the wilderness. The less they knew, the better.

The scarred guard stepped closer now, lowering his voice to a threatening murmur. “You think you’re safe out here, huh? Think you can just disappear? The moment we send word back to the kingdom, your little life of freedom is over. They’ll bring in the real hunters, the ones who track down men like you with far more than just a sword.”

Gale's heart skipped at the mention of the king’s elite trackers. He knew what they were capable of. But he couldn’t let them see his fear. “I told you, I’m alone,” he said, his voice steady, though his hands clenched against the shackles. “I don’t know what you think you know, but you’re wrong.”

The older guard narrowed his eyes, unimpressed. “You’re lying. I can see it in your eyes. You’ve got something to hide, and we’re going to find out what that is. If you won’t talk willingly, we’ll find another way to make you.”

Gale’s stomach twisted, but he refused to show any sign of weakness. His gaze remained steady, defiant.

The younger guard, still standing off to the side, looked nervous. His hand hovered near his belt as if unsure whether to speak up. “Maybe we should... maybe we should just tie him down until the captain comes. He’s stronger than he looks. He won’t last long.”

The older guard turned sharply, fixing the younger man with a cold glare. “You think I don’t know how to handle this? Get back in line.”

There was a brief silence, the only sound the crackle of the fire. Gale could feel the tension hanging in the air, thick and suffocating. He had to stay strong. He couldn’t let them get to him.

The scarred guard stepped back, considering his next move. “I’m giving you one last chance, Gale. Who are you working with? We’ve already got enough to take you in for illegal hunting, but we’re trying to be lenient here. Help us, and it’ll go easier for you.”

Gale’s stomach churned. He wasn’t going to give them anything. They had no idea how much he had fought just to survive out here. He wasn’t about to let them think they could control him, make him break. His resolve was stronger than their threats.

“I’m not telling you anything,” Gale said, his voice low but firm. “You’ll have to kill me before you get anything from me.”

The scarred guard’s eyes hardened, his patience now gone. Without another word, he signaled to the younger guard, who hurried over to Gale and tightened the shackles just a little more. Gale winced but didn’t cry out. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

The scarred guard’s voice was dark and dangerous as he stepped closer again. “You really want to die for this, huh? You think you’re some martyr out here, playing hero to some cause no one cares about?” He leaned in, his voice a low growl. “Let me make this clear—you don’t get to decide how this ends. We’re going to break you down, whether you like it or not. So keep up your silence. See how far it gets you.”

Gale took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. The firelight flickered across his face, and he met the guard’s gaze with a look of quiet defiance.

“It doesn’t matter what you do to me,” Gale said, his voice steady, unwavering. “You’ll never get the answers you’re looking for.”

The scarred guard’s lips curled into a grim smile. “We’ll see about that.”

The younger guard shifted uneasily, glancing between his superior and Gale. It was clear that he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the situation, but he said nothing. The older guard motioned for him to stand down, and the camp grew eerily silent again, save for the crackling of the fire and the rustling of the trees in the distance.

For now, Gale had held out. But the guards weren’t done with him yet. The night was still young, and the longer he stayed in their hands, the more desperate they might become. He had to hold his ground. He had no choice but to.

The scarred guard watched closely, his expression unreadable. As the younger guard finished securing the ropes, the older man stepped forward and grasped Gale’s chin, tilting his head to the side. His cold fingers dug into Gale’s jaw, and the painful pressure made Gale’s teeth clench.

“You think your silence means something?” the scarred guard hissed. “It doesn’t. You’re just making it worse for yourself.”

Gale’s eyes stayed steady, his gaze unyielding, even as the rope bit into his skin. He said nothing. The pain, the anger—it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to speak. They could do whatever they wanted. He wouldn’t break.

The scarred guard leaned in, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, full of venom. “You really think we’ll just let you go? After what you’ve done? You’re on royal property. You’ve been hunting illegally. You think we don’t know who you are, what you’ve been doing out here?” He paused, studying Gale’s face. “You don’t realize how much trouble you’re in, do you?”

Gale didn’t respond. His throat was tight, but he forced himself to stay calm, to control his breathing. He had been through worse than this, hadn’t he? The nights in the wild, the scars on his skin—this wasn’t new.

The younger guard stepped back, a look of discomfort crossing his face as he glanced at his superior. “Sir, maybe… maybe we don’t need to—”

“Enough,” the scarred guard snapped, his patience already fraying. “You think he’s going to cooperate just because you’re playing nice? He’s a liar, a thief, and now he’s trespassing. And he’ll pay for it.”

He stood up straight again, stepping back and surveying Gale from across the campfire. His eyes narrowed as he considered the next step in this little game.

“You’ve been out here for too long, Gale. You’ve been avoiding us, running in these woods. But it’s over now. You’re not going anywhere.”

Gale’s heart hammered in his chest, but he kept his expression neutral. He had no illusions about what they were capable of. The scarred guard wasn’t just talking—he meant every word. The young guard might still be uncertain, but the older man had no doubt made up his mind. Gale’s silence was only making it worse for himself.

The scarred guard turned his back to Gale, walking slowly toward the fire. He spoke over his shoulder, voice low but filled with malice. “You’re not going to get away with this. You’ll either tell me what I want to know, or we’ll keep you here until you do. Your choice.”

Gale’s pulse quickened, but his jaw stayed firm. He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction.

The guard seemed to sense his stubbornness and let out a low laugh. “You think that’s strong? To sit there and pretend you’re unaffected? It’s pathetic. Your strength will only take you so far before it’s gone, and you’ll be begging me for mercy.” He stepped back toward Gale, his hand brushing the hilt of his dagger again.

But Gale didn’t flinch. He didn’t break.

“Why don’t you save us both the trouble, and just tell me what you’re hiding?” the scarred guard pressed, his voice suddenly low and dangerous.

Gale said nothing, keeping his eyes locked on the ground, feeling the weight of the guard’s stare on him.

The older man was quiet for a moment, letting the silence stretch, before he made his decision. “You’re going to be here for a long time, Gale. A long time. You don’t realize that, but I do. The longer you stay silent, the harder it’ll be when it’s all over.”

Gale could hear the younger guard shift uneasily behind him, the sound of his boots scraping the dirt. But he didn’t turn around. He wouldn’t give them that.

The scarred guard took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts. “We’ll do this my way. You’ll either tell me what I need to know, or I’ll break you until you do. And believe me, I will break you.”

For the first time, Gale felt the weight of the threat settle in, not just in the guard's words, but in the cold, calculated certainty behind them. This wasn’t a game. The time for silence had passed, and the real pain was about to begin.

But even then, Gale didn’t waver. The rope cut into his wrists, the burning sting of the whip still seared his skin, and the cold fear crept in—but he refused to let it control him. He wouldn’t let them see how much this hurt. He wouldn’t give them the power to break him.

The scarred guard’s voice became sharp, insistent. “Tell me what you’re hiding. Now.”

Gale swallowed hard, his throat dry. But his voice was steady when he finally spoke, even if the words were a whisper.

“I’m not telling you anything.”

The guard’s eyes darkened, and he stepped closer again, his hand tightening around the dagger’s hilt. Gale didn’t back down.

“You will,” the scarred guard growled, eyes burning with fury. “You will, whether you want to or not.”

The fire crackled as the night pressed in, and Gale, bound to the chair, waited for whatever would come next. But this time, he was fully aware. He was no longer just facing pain—he was facing the beginning of a long battle of wills.