Chapter 148- Friendly Games, Silent Wars

Tarria

Watching Adrian from the shadows is more fun than my usual missions. Tomorrow was part 2 of the celebrations and the day after that is departure day. Lexy needed to make sure she had all the evidence to present to the alliance before the departure to incarcerate Adrian.

Whatever he planned we would stop him at every corner. We will protect everything that tries to break the peace that this alliance brings for everyone.

I left my disciple watching over Adrian since he almost ran to his room.

I was supposed to be resting but chose to train my new awoken abilities. Lexy showed me some ways to help me grow into them and how to control them. I will use the same powers Adrian wants to control to stop him.
Lexy

The morning sun crept over the horizon, painting the skies in soft pinks and golds. A warm breeze carried the scent of cooked meats and fresh fruit through the gathering grounds, where banners of each tribe fluttered beside one another in unison. Today was meant to be light-hearted, a day to celebrate the bonds we were forging and strengthen them through play. But even as I walked among the cheerful bustle of tribes preparing for the games, my gaze kept drifting to one person—Adrian.

He stood off to the side, his stance relaxed but detached. He spoke only with his own volunteers, and even then, it seemed more like quiet, tight-lipped guidance than friendly conversation. While others mingled with laughter, exchanging playful jabs and team strategies, Adrian remained a shadow within the crowd.

I forced my attention back to the moment. CJ’s voice boomed over the training field, his charisma shining as he rallied everyone for the opening round of events. The warriors, dressed in relaxed versions of their tribal colors, lined up for the first challenge—an obstacle course designed with a mixture of agility, strength, and teamwork.

The energy was infectious. Volunteers and seasoned warriors alike teamed up, mixing across tribes to encourage trust and camaraderie.

As I made my rounds, checking on teams and exchanging laughs with the younger warriors, my mind stayed alert. I was watching for more than just successful team-building—I was watching the undercurrents. Tension doesn’t always scream; sometimes it whispers beneath polite smiles.

Adrian’s distance didn’t go unnoticed. A few volunteers glanced his way, hesitant, perhaps hoping he’d join them. But he waved them off gently, always with the same excuse—"Just observing today." His eyes were unreadable, but I knew better. He wasn’t just observing. He was calculating.

"Queen Lexy!" a young warrior from the southern ridge pack called out, waving me over. Her excitement was pure, and I welcomed the distraction. "You have to try the archery challenge!"

I laughed, accepting the bow she offered. CJ raised an eyebrow at me from across the field, and I could already see him silently daring me to hit a perfect shot. I took my place, inhaled deeply, and let the arrow fly. It struck the outer ring, but the cheer that erupted was full and genuine.

Games continued into midday. Tug-of-war, puzzle-solving relays, climbing competitions, and even a food-tasting contest brought the tribes together in spirited fun. Sweat, laughter, and dirt became the day’s uniform. Bonds formed quickly. I could see it—in the way shoulders leaned into each other during huddles, how strangers became teammates, how rivals became trusted partners.

But through it all, Adrian remained separate.

He was always on the edge. Not far enough to be rude but never close enough to truly engage. I watched him out of the corner of my eye while pretending to help judge the relay race. His expression never changed. Eyes narrowed, arms crossed or resting at his sides, head tilted ever so slightly as if absorbing everything but sharing nothing.

“Does he think no one sees him?” I whispered to CJ when we stepped aside for water.

“He wants us to see him,” CJ said, not bothering to hide the edge in his voice. “He wants us to question it.”

“He’s hiding something,” I muttered, then handed a water skin to a passing runner. “Or protecting something. Either way, he’s not trying very hard to blend in anymore.”

CJ’s eyes followed my line of sight. “He doesn’t think he has to.”

That stirred something deep inside me. This alliance was meant to be a turning point—something sacred and powerful. We were making history. Yet Adrian’s presence cast a long shadow, and I feared he was biding his time for something darker.

As the sun began to sink toward the west, the last of the challenges wrapped up. Everyone gathered at the center bonfire where the results were to be announced, and spirits were high. Cheers erupted as each team received symbolic tokens—carved pendants, feathers, and woven cords representing unity and shared strength. The volunteers, especially those from Adrian’s group, looked genuinely proud of their efforts, their smiles finally reaching their eyes.

Even Adrian clapped politely when one of his volunteers was praised for their leadership in the strategy maze. But it was shallow, empty. His smile didn’t move past his lips. His mind was elsewhere.

As the crowd dispersed for food and rest, I quietly made my way toward the path that curved around the eastern slope. From there, I had a clear vantage point of the celebration grounds without being seen. I watched him again—alone now—leaning against a tree with a soft scowl on his face.

Something in me wanted to confront him, to ask outright why he bothered to stay if he had no interest in truly participating. But I knew that wasn’t the way. Not yet.

Instead, I returned to my tent, where Tarria was waiting, ready to report her observation and what the scout team has discovered.

"He's not enjoying himself," she said, dropping onto a pillow with a sigh.

"No," I replied, pouring us both some tea. "But he's pretending well enough for those not paying attention."

"Did you see him watching the rope maze? He kept nodding when one of his men worked with one of ours. He doesn’t like it, but he respects competence."

I nodded, filing away her words.

The games were successful. My people had connected with theirs, and spirits were high. But under the surface, pieces were moving. Alliances were forming—some genuine, some strategic.

And Adrian? He was still playing a game of his own.

One I was growing tired of pretending not to notice.