Yelling. A woman barking orders. Alex groggily opened his eyes, shifting in his creaky bed. The room around him was dim. A lantern hung from the ceiling, its flame reduced to a faint, flickering glow. Usually, Lydus put it out when he was sleeping, so even that small ember felt out of place.
The young boy sat up, rubbing his eyes as his frizzy black hair stuck to his damp forehead. No more screaming… Must have been a nightmare, he assured himself. Yet, as if to defy his conclusion, another sharp shout carried through the window, clearer this time.
Alex swung a leg over the bed, his bare foot meeting the rough, icy wood of the floorboards. The chill sent a shiver up his spine. It wasn’t the cold that made him shiver, though. For a moment, he sat frozen, straining to listen. The yelling had stopped again, leaving only the faint whisper of rain against the window. Lydus stepped into the doorway, his figure half-lit by the flickering lantern. Shadows danced across his tired features. He didn’t speak at first, but his eyes darted to Alex as though checking he was still there.
“What’s going on?” Alex asked, though his voice cracked into a squeak, and sighed. He hated sounding so vulnerable in front of his brother.
Lydus glanced toward the window. “Nothing,” he replied simply. “I’ll be gone for a little while. You stay here and don’t leave the house. Alright?”
“Why can’t you tell me?” Alex asked, stepping fully out of bed. “I’m not a child anymore...”
Lydus’s mouth curled into a weak smile. “You’re thirteen,” he said lightly.. “That’s still very much a child. And besides, it’s not the point.” The man sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright... Scouts came back. Told Adira they have some news on Orerha. That’s it.”
“Are you sure?” Alex pressed and furrowed his brow.
Lydus hesitated for a moment, swallowing hard before nodding. “Yeah... Now go back to sleep. I’ll be back soon.”
He watched as Alex clamored back into bed, sliding under thick covers, his wide eyes peering back at him as he settled in. Lydus leaned down and gave his brother’s arm a reassuring squeeze, offering a small smile before straightening and heading for the door with solid steps.
Dammit, he thought, hopefully the news isn’t bad.
Swinging open the front door, he was greeted by the cool night air. The moon hung high in the ink-black sky, its pale light casting a silvery sheen over the village. Rain continued to fall, though it had softened to a steady patter, its rhythm less aggressive than hours before. The ground, beaten and battered by the storm, was now nothing more than slick, glistening mud.
His eyes scoured the path in front of his house where Adira had been moments before. “Thanks for being patient,” he muttered under his breath before breaking into a run.
The village was unnervingly quiet, save for the patter of rain on mud and wood. Lydus’s boots splashed through puddles as he passed houses with darkened windows. Some flickered faintly, the dying light of lanterns illuminating faces peeking nervously through the cracks in curtains. A cart lay tipped in the street, its contents scattered, the wheels half-buried in the mud. Even the animals were silent. The storm had beaten everything into submission.
At last, he came upon a circular wooden hut with a curved roof. Without hesitation, Lydus stepped through the curtain that served as its door. Inside, Adira and Everett stood over a table, an old map rolled out between them.
Lydus wasted no time, planting his hands flat against the table. “What’s going on?"
Adira sighed as she turned her attention to him. “I told you to go with Emmelia. She’s waiting for you by the lookout.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t,” Lydus replied bluntly. His gaze flicked to Everett, who remained silent, then back to Adira, who shook her head in exasperation. “What did the scouts say?”
She ran a hand through her hair, her eyes fixed firmly on the map. “A soldier camp was found here.” She placed a finger at the base of the mountains. “By Telivoran Lake.”
“Do they know why?” Lydus asked.
Adira shook her head. “No, but they counted at least twenty, armed with bastard swords and crossbows.”
“We should take them head-on,” Everett interjected sharply. “If they attack us here, we won’t be able to defend ourselves. But if we strike first, catch them off guard where they are, we stand a chance.”
“With whom? Barely half the village can fight, and I can’t risk that.” Adira’s voice dropped to a whisper. “We don’t know why they’re here,” she said, tracing a line on the map with her finger. “It doesn’t make sense. They shouldn’t even be this far East.” She paused, her hand hovering over the map as if afraid to point to their location. “But if they’ve found us…"
“Where’s Arawn?” Lydus cut her off. Adira’s lips pressed into a flat line in frustration but answered despite herself.
“We don’t know,” she admitted. “He disappeared after you came back from the hunt and...” Her voice faltered slightly. “We’re worried soldiers might have found him. Captured him.”
“Fuck.” He cursed with a tightened fist.
Adira sighed, her expression hardening as she turned back to Everett. “We can’t, and that’s final.”
“You don’t get to make that choice,” Everett growled and leaned forward on the table. His proximity was meant to intimidate, but Adira didn’t flinch. “I don’t care that you made your dad a promise.”
Lydus coughed. Both their eyes snapped to him as he stood there, a petty smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe I can be the tie breaker?”
“Are you serious?” Everett muttered, closing his eyes and drawing a sharp breath. “Fine. Adira?”
She glanced between the two hesitantly. These idiots, Adira thought to herself before responding, “Alright... Lydus.” The woman gave in reluctantly.
Lydus clasped his hands together with an exaggerated motion, clearly aiming to irritate them further. Both flinched slightly, but as he looked up at the ceiling briefly, he realized how hard the decision actually was.
If the kingdom had stationed soldiers at the foot of the mountain, at the ridge’s entrance no less, then there was little reason to believe they hadn’t already found them. A surprise attack might work, but if the soldiers were expecting it, the risk could spiral into disaster.
With a hard swallow, he began in a slowly. “I’m on Adira’s side...”
Everett stepped back abruptly, muttering a curse under his breath as he leaned against the wall. Surprisingly, he didn’t argue further, though he avoided eye contact now. “How long before they could be here?” he asked.
“They... they said before dawn,” Adira stammered slightly. She looked at Lydus with faint surprise. “I didn’t think you’d agree with me, Lydus.”
His gaze fell to the map. “Yeah, well, me neither,” he admitted. “We should get every able body on a defensive line at the ridge’s entrance. It’ll buy us more time to prepare than rushing into an assault down below.”
Adira gave a nod, “Okay. I’ll begin rounding everyone up, get them to the armory.” She brushed past him, but before leaving, placed a hand on his shoulder, “Thanks Lydus.” The woman whispered before departing. The flap closing behind her with the wind.
Lydus sighed, glancing at Everett, “For the record—.”
He put a hand up, “Save it.” The man kicked off from the wall, “You made a decision I couldn’t.” Everett muttered, then brushed past him and left, leaving Lydus alone is the small structure. With a breath, he readied himself.
---
Soon, seconds had turned into minutes, and minutes to hours. Adira stood straight in front of a small group of lined ‘soldiers,’ or at least the best they could manage. Men and women, adorned in silver and bronze—some clad in the worn armor of the Orerhan military, others in pieces hastily crafted by poor blacksmiths. Few had proper weapons, with many wielding mere daggers. Altogether, there couldn’t have been more than twenty-five prepared to defend.
Adira tightened the straps on her armor. She stood before the small group of defenders, their faces pale in the flickering torchlight. Most were just villagers—hunters, farmers, barely old enough to wield a blade. Her chest ached as she saw one of them whispering what looked like a prayer. They need to think I have this under control, she thought.
She stepped forward, lifting her voice over the sound of the rain. “Hold the line,” she commanded, her tone sharper than she intended. “We don’t break. Not until I say so.”
Sweat beaded on her brow despite the biting cold. Every breath, murmur, and movement startled her, though she fought to maintain a stoic demeanor. Her gaze remained fixed on the ridge’s entrance; a dark void that seemed to swallow the faint light of the torches staked into the ground. The rain had slowed, but the wind whistled through the sparse treetops, carrying with it an otherwise loud silence.
“Adira!” Lydus called out behind her. She raised a hand without turning, acknowledging him but keeping her focus forward. Shuffling footsteps, a stumble, and a sharp curse preceded his arrival at her side. “Has lookout said anything?” he asked, slightly breathless.
Adira finally tore her gaze from the entrance to face him. He wore his father’s armor, sleek and plated, though it didn’t sit on him quite as naturally. “Nothing... but the last scout saw them moving up the mountain an hour ago,” she replied.
“Fuck...” Lydus spat, glancing over the assembled fighters. “These are all the defenders?”
Adira gave a reluctant nod before blinking and asking, “Where’s Everett?”
“I—I don’t know,” Lydus admitted. “He wasn’t at the...” He hesitated, then placed a hand on her shoulder. “I should’ve spoken up, but... we could evacuate everyone while some defend, buy time.”
“To where?” Adira’s voice cracked. “Ultriver is the only option, and we can’t move an entire village there without being noticed. We’d be killed before we made it.”
“It doesn’t mean we...”
A sharp whizzing sound interrupted him. The first arrow came out of the darkness like a phantom, whistling through the air and slamming into the ground inches from Adira’s feet. Her breath caught as she froze, staring at the sleek shaft embedded in the mud. More arrows followed, striking the ground in quick succession. It wasn’t an attack—it was a message. A warning.
“Quiet!” Adira hissed, raising a hand to signal everyone to hold still. More figures gathered in the shadows as the rain returned, pelting their armor with relentless drumming. Water trickled down their faces, the sound of the storm nearly drowning out their breathing.
The archers drew their bows, trembling fingers clutching at strings as they waited. One minute passed. Two. The foliage stirred, and by the third minute, the shuffling grew louder. A distant torch flickered, revealing multiple faces peering out from the shadows.
Then came the shouting.
Soldiers erupted from the tree line, swords raised and shields drawn as they charged the defensive line. Adira’s hastily assembled defenders braced themselves. Men and women, armed with mismatched weapons, joined the fray, some fresh from the armory.
The battlefield descended into chaos. Swords clashed with ear-splitting shrieks, and arrows whistled overhead. Sparks flew as steel collided with steel, the cacophony blending with the pounding rain. Blood sprayed into the air like a hose. Kingdom’s soldiers had the advantage in numbers, and it showed.
“That’s a lot more than twenty!” Lydus shouted, drawing his sword with a sharp screech of metal.
A soldier, clad in polished silver armor, advanced on him. They circled each other, rain streaming down their faces, lightning illuminating their movements in brief flashes. Lydus lunged, feinting toward the soldier’s head before swiftly redirecting his blade, slicing across the kneecap.
“FUCK!” the soldier cried, stumbling back. He swung wildly in retaliation, but Lydus blocked the blow, his wrists aching from the impact. They locked eyes, rain dripping from their helmets, obscuring their vision.
With a sudden burst of strength, Lydus kicked the soldier square in the chest, sending him sprawling into the mud. The man’s sword slipped from his grasp, skidding out of reach. Wasting no time, Lydus raised his weapon high and drove it into the soldier’s neck.
As his body fell still, Lydus staggered back, chest heaving. For a moment, all sound seemed to fade—the clamor of swords, the cries of the wounded—leaving only the dull thud of his heartbeat. His fingers trembled as he gripped the blood-slick hilt of his sword. He had killed before, but it never felt easier.
Panting, Lydus scanned the battlefield. His side was losing ground. Adira’s voice rang out over the chaos, ordering the archers to fire another volley. Arrows arced through the air and struck gaps in soldier's armor. A few fell, but it wasn’t enough.
“Adira!” Lydus called and ran towards her.
“Get Alex to safety!” she barked.
His heart sank. In the chaos, he’d completely forgotten about Alex. “Fuck,” he muttered, sheathing his sword. “Don’t die.”
Adira gave him a doubtful nod. It was all the assurance he needed. Lydus turned and sprinted toward the village, the sounds of battle fading behind him as the rain beat down harder.
Lydus cut through the narrow gap between two buildings, his breath sharp in the cold air. Reaching his home, he bounded up the stairs, throwing the door open as he rushed inside. Darkness filled the room; no candles were lit. Unease churned in his gut as he carefully treaded the floor
"Alex?" Lydus whispered, but there was no response.
His hand skimmed the rough wall as he navigated the darkness toward Alex’s room. A soft creak from the bed stopped him in his tracks.
“Al—” The word died in his throat as a figure lunged from the shadows, tackling him to the ground. Lydus thrashed, using his legs and a free arm to shove the attacker off. He rolled to his feet in one fluid motion, then surged forward, slamming them against the wall with a grunt.
A groan of pain made him pause. "Emmelia?" Lydus gasped, stepping back.
"Ugh… yeah, it’s me,’ Emmelia groaned, doubling over and clutching her side. “Lydus?”
"Shit—are you hurt?" he stammered.
"No, I’m fine,’ Emmelia said through gritted teeth. ‘And Alex? He’s on the bed."
Lydus exhaled in relief, his eyes darting to the bed. "Alex?"
"I'm here," the boy croaked.
“Thank god,” Lydus muttered, exhaling deeply before turning to Emmelia. “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine.” Emmelia said, waving off his apology with a grimace.
Lydus ran a shaky hand through his hair, nodding to himself. ‘Alright, we have to move. Alex, come here.’ The boy scrambled over, gripping his hand tightly. Lydus shot a glance at Emmelia. ‘You too.’ Then, with a faint smirk, he added, ‘By the way, you’re terrible at fighting.
“Well...” She muttered, “Lucky your dad taught you.”
Without responding, Lydus led them into the storm. Rain lashed the village, each drop pounding harder than the last, as if the sky itself raged against them.
The line had crumbled. Orerha’s soldiers swarmed deeper into the village, their silhouettes flickering through the rain. Darkness hid them for now, but it wouldn’t hold for long. Discovery was inevitable.
Fuck, Lydus panicked, Where the hell do we go?
Then it struck him—Arawn’s exit point. It was a gamble, and Lydus wasn’t certain it worked both ways, but it was close. He had to take the risk.
"This way," he whispered, tightening his grip on Alex's small, slippery hand.
Emmelia, still gripping the wall for balance, whispered hoarsely, "I can't see."
Lydus threw a quick glance at the soldiers gaining ground, then seized Emmelia’s wrist. “Don’t run. Don’t make a sound,” he warned. “Or we’re dead.”
They followed wordlessly, their silence all the confirmation he needed. Lydus crept through narrow alleys between buildings and keeping low. His mind raced, trying to recall the exit’s exact location. South of the ridge? No, that wasn’t right.
Rounding another corner, Lydus spotted it—the hill, partially obscured by jagged mountain walls. Near its base lay the cavern that led to Arawn’s exit.
Without a moment’s hesitation, he headed for the hill, dragging Alex and Emmelia with him. Their hands slipped in his grasp, wet with rain or sweat—he didn’t care. His grip tightened instinctively.
The soldiers lagged further behind, giving them room to quicken their steps. “Faster.” Lydus muttered. Wet grass squelched beneath their feet, and the sharp crackle of leaves and branches broke the silence.
The ground sloped sharply upward. “Move faster. Faster.”
Alex cried out suddenly as his foot slipped, his small frame crashing into the dirt with a dull thud. The force dragged Lydus and Emmelia down with him, all three tumbling in a chaotic sprawl down the muddy incline. Filthy grime clung to their skin and clothes when they finally slid to a stop.
Lydus scrambled upright, grabbing Alex and hauling him to his feet. “Are you hurt?”
Alex shook his head, though clearly shaken, and Lydus turned to Emmelia, who was already rising, her face streaked with mud.
"Don’t stop.” She urged.
“My leg…” Alex whimpered, his grip on Lydus loosening as he stumbled backward once more.
“Alex—” Lydus hissed, his head snapping toward the distant shadows. Squinting through the rain, his heart plummeted as soldiers emerged, charging straight for them. “Damn it.” Lydus cursed, his fingers closing around his sword’s hilt as he drew it with a sharp metallic scrape.
The soldiers closed in quickly, their forms distorted by the relentless downpour. Lydus could hear their labored, ragged breaths—almost animalistic. His pulse quickened, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He steadied his stance, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly as the soldiers approached, their armor glinting faintly under flashes of lightning.
His feet shifted in the mud, and he waited, watching them get closer, moving slowly now, as if savoring the moment. They were trying to intimidate him, and in a way, it was working.
"Don't move," a voice commanded as the two soldiers parted to allow another man to step forward. Lydus hadn't seen him before, but he was unmistakably the leader. He held a finely crafted wooden bow, its iron-tipped arrow drawn back, aimed squarely at Lydus's head. The archer's posture was rigid, his voice calm and deep. "Drop it."
Lydus hesitated, heart pounding in his chest. He swallowed hard and let his sword fall to the ground with a heavy thud.
"Smart boy," the archer sneered, then glanced at Emmelia, his lips curling into a quaint grin. "She's a pretty one, ain't she?"
Emmelia’s expression bore into his. “Lay a finger on me, and I’ll kill you.”
The archer let out a sharp laugh, elbowing the soldier beside him. “Did you hear that?” But his grin vanished just as quickly as it came, his features hardening as he swung the arrow toward Emmelia. “What a mouthy little bitch.”
In a single heartbeat, Lydus saw his opening. With a guttural roar, he surged forward, crashing into the archer and sending them both tumbling to the ground. The bow skidded away, forgotten, as they wrestled violently in the mud.
Emmelia’s breath hitched at the sudden chaos, but hesitation was fleeting. Her hand darted for Lydus’s discarded sword as the other two soldiers closed in. She gripped the blade tightly, her stance uncertain—she wasn’t a fighter, but wasn’t about to back down.
Lydus and the archer scrambled to their feet. Before the archer could draw his dagger, Lydus drove his boot into the man’s stomach, sending him stumbling backward. The blow, though cushioned by armor, was enough to knock the wind from his lungs.
Lydus spat mud and blood from his mouth, wiping it away with the back of his hand. “Damn it.” 72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ96DDpya4RW
he muttered. His bow lay out of reach where he’d fallen.
Behind him, Emmelia held her ground, and the sword awkwardly with it. The two soldiers circled her and Alex, their steps predatory, like wolves toying with cornered prey.
One of them lunged, their longsword carving an arc through the storm’s dim light. Emmelia barely lifted her blade in time, both hands straining to absorb the blow the impact, shooting pain through her wrists as the steel screamed against her guard.
The soldier smirked, savoring the moment, but Emmelia was no stranger to desperation. Gritting her teeth, she adjusted her footing, her eyes flicking to the incline beneath them. With a sudden surge of force, she pushed forward, enough to unsettle his balance. He toppled backward, his momentum carrying him down the hill. A sickening crack echoed as his head struck a rock.
“Ah… FUCK! You...bitch.” he howled and clutched at the blood streaming from his split scalp
Emmelia’s breaths came in ragged gasps. She glanced toward Lydus and saw him grappling with the archer. The man’s dagger gleamed, inching closer to Lydus’s throat. Sweat and rain streaked his face.
Without hesitation, Emmelia lunged, the sword’s weight nearly pulling her off balance. She drove the blade through the archer’s neck where it sliced cleanly through. His eyes widened in shock as a wet, choking gurgle escaped his throat. Blood spilled freely as he dropped to his knees, then crumpled lifelessly down the slope.
Emmelia’s hands trembled as she stared at the sword, slick with blood. It slipped from her grip, thudding into the mud. “Shit... I... I... didn’t...” The girl stammered.
Lydus’s chest heaved with exhaustion as his eyes met hers. There was no time for comfort. His gaze shot to the last soldier, who was staggering back to his feet.
Grabbing the sword Emmelia had dropped, he stormed toward the soldier. With a guttural snarl, he locked his arm around the man’s neck and slashed clean through. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc as the soldier collapsed.
Lydus stood frozen over the lifeless body, and slowly, his legs gave way, and he collapsed into the mud, gaze drifting upward to the storm-choked sky. It’s over, he thought. We made it.
But relief was short-lived. The universe always seemed to have a way of ripping it away from its inhabitants.
“Lydus!” Emmelia screamed.
Lydus’s heart stopped cold. He rolled onto his stomach, his eyes tracing Emmelia’s gaze. The blood drained from his face as he saw it. Alex lay sprawled in the mud, his small frame convulsing in an uncontrollable seizure.
“No…” Lydus choked, his voice breaking as he scrambled toward Alex. His hands clawed desperately at the muck, dirt caking beneath his nails as he dragged himself closer.
Alex did not cry, nor was there color in his face, but a mere ghostly pale, eyes glazed over. A jagged wound tore across his stomach. Blood gushed from the jagged tear, along with bile and viscera as his frame continued to twitch. Like a half-squashed bug.
Emmelia dropped to her knees beside Alex, her hands trembling as she tried to steady him.
“Alex…” Lydus whispered, his voice breaking as he cradled his brother’s cheek with a trembling hand. “Come on, stay with me… we’ll—” He took a shaky breath, “We’ll finish that story...see how the hero saves his village.”
Alex’s convulsions slowed, then stopped entirely. His glassy eyes turned toward Lydus with parted lips, and he rasped in a voice so faint it barely rose above the rain, “I… I think I’m…” The words faltered, his breath rattling one final, hollow time as life slipped away."
“No...” Lydus pleaded and clutched Alex’s face. “No… Alex… Wake up, you motherfucker, wake up...”
The world around him blurred, the night’s colors bleeding together like ink in water. The storm’s violent roars dulled to a distant hum, and Emmelia’s cries became faint, meaningless echoes. All Lydus could hear was his own jagged breath and the pounding rhythm of his own heart.
This isn’t real. It’s just a nightmare. The words repeated in his mind, a futile mantra. He had been so careful, hadn’t he? He had sworn to their father—sworn to protect Alex. He couldn’t fail. He couldn’t lose him. Not Alex. Not his brother.
Emmelia tugged at his arm, her voice cracking as she begged him to move, but Alex’s lifeless body would not let him.
Alex was gone. And nothing would ever undo that.
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