Thalyn’s breath steamed in the chill of the night, each exhale lost in the whispering wind that swept the highlands. Below, the river roared, a hidden giant in the deepening shadows. The ground squelched underfoot, the scent of wet earth and burnt wood clinging to her senses. Her fingers tightened around the cold metal of the rifle, its weight familiar and reassuring.
Ahead, the stronghold loomed, a jagged silhouette stitched together with rust and regret. Thalyn’s pulse quickened. Inside, the Faen warlord and his tribe waited, the echoes of their recent raids still smoldering in treetop villages turned to ashes. Anger simmered in Thalyn’s belly, tight as a coiled spring.
She glanced at her team, a quintet tonight.
Commander Darian Vance stood a few paces ahead, staring at the castle with that calm, focused stance. Broad shoulders, iron-gray beard. His voice was always half a riddle, the answers making sense when it mattered. There was a strange charm in his enigma, something that made people listen.
Commander Darian Vance stood a few paces ahead, staring at the castle with that calm, focused stance. Broad shoulders, iron-gray beard. His voice was always half a riddle, the answers making sense when it mattered. There was a strange charm in his enigma, something that made people listen. He carried a heavy satchel across one shoulder, the kind that would not last on the same shoulder.
Beside him, Nira Thal flexed her fingers, sharp eyes hunting. Her frame was small, wiry, built for the high branches where she’d learned to kill. Warm amber skin, fiery hair tangled over her shoulders like a flame in the night. She moved with the grace of a shardwing, every step a calculation. Thalyn had seen her take down targets from distances that seemed a lie to believe. Knives too. Her blade always knew its mark like it had a mind of its own.
Tarn Greeves crouched low, fiddling with the scanner. His mutterings were a soft, anxious buzz. Thick glasses magnified his eyes, making them dart like a trapped creature. Tarn was their techie, able to hack anything, yet always on the edge of bolting.
Kalir Yeugh, silent, hulking dark, stood apart. His massive frame merged with the shadows. He spoke little, but when he did, his words fell like stones in a still pond.
“Let’s begin,” Darian muttered. “Nira, left flank. Thalyn, take the right. Tarn, keep scanning. Kalir, you’re with me.”
Thalyn nodded, her gaze meeting Kalir’s unreadable face. The corner of his mouth twitched in the ghost of a smile, and he gestured toward the gates. The stronghold awaited.
They moved forward, the wind moaning through the foliage, the scent of decay mingling with smoke. Tarn’s scanner beeped softly. “Two guards on the eastern watch,” He whispered, scanner tilted. “One more at the gate. Rotating pattern, every few minutes.”
“Kalir,” Darian murmured. “You're on the pair. Wait for Thalyn's signal.”
Kalir said nothing. He rolled his neck once and sank back into the dark.
“Nira…” Darian began.
Nira was already gone, no announcement, just a gap where she'd been. The guard tilted sideways and didn't make a sound.
Thalyn spotted a shadow shift on the other side of the approach and made soft clicks of tongue. Two shorts.
Something heavy and quiet happened against the stone, in the dark. Then Kalir reappeared at Thalyn's shoulder as if he'd only stepped out briefly, two men dealt with behind him like a problem he'd filed away.
“Gate,” Darian said.
They moved. The stone walls reared overhead, cold radiating off them in waves. Tarn's scanner beeped once and he muffled it against his coat with a hiss. The gate was sealed, reinforced bar across the inside, visible through a gap in the ironwork.
“Bolt's manual,” Tarn breathed, already working his pick-line through the gap, hands trembling but precise. “Give me room.”
Thirty agonizing beats. The lock disengaged with a sound like a breaking knuckle. Kalir caught the gate before it could swing free, eased it open in degrees, the metal groaning low. They slipped inside one at a time.
The interior was dim, narrow corridors twisting into darkness. Shadows danced under flickering torches, casting broken specters on the stone. Strange symbols clawed at the walls. The air was thick with sweat and smoke, tinged with a cloying sweetness, like rotting fruit.
The scanner beeped again. Tarn muttered, “Three bodies moving west… no, wait, one's doubling back.”
Thalyn saw the shadow and signaled Nira, who drew a knife with practiced ease. A blur of red hair, a flash of steel. The shadow fell, blood pooling silently.
Cold air seeped through Thalyn’s jacket as they pressed deeper, each step a soft echo swallowed by the dark. The stronghold seemed to breathe, dust swirling in the beams of light like lost souls.
At one junction, Thalyn heard voices ahead and raised a fist. The team flattened. Two Faen guards rounded the corner, and walked straight into Kalir. He took the first by the throat before either man had processed him, drove him into the wall, caught the second's arm mid-reach and wrenched it until the guard folded. No weapons drawn. No noise. He lowered them both and straightened his coat.
Thalyn let out a breath. Nira was already stepping over them. They pressed on.
Darian halted, his gaze fixed ahead. “Wait for me,” he said, flatly. Then he slipped into an alcove, vanishing into shadow as if he had done it a thousand times. Thalyn exchanged a look with Nira, a silent question hanging between them.
“What’s he up to?” Nira whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. Thalyn shrugged, eyes narrowing as she scanned the corridor.
Time stretched in silence.
When Darian reappeared, his hands were empty. The satchel was gone.
“Let's move,” he drawled. “We're done here.”
Thalyn blinked. “That quick? What about the captives?”
Darian shook his head. “Make your way out. Now.”
Thalyn caught a flicker in his eye, something unreadable. Before she could speak, a low rumble reverberated through the walls. The floor trembled, dust drifting from the ceiling in lazy swirls.
“What in the…” Tarn’s voice cut in, but Darian’s sharp turn silenced him. “I said move. Now!”
A deep boom echoed from behind, the ground quivering. Thalyn felt it in her bones. The air shifted, heavy like the breath of some ancient beast awakening.
Nira's eyes narrowed. “Did you…”
“Move!” Darian barked again, urgency slicing through his tone.
They ran, the walls shuddering as another explosion rocked the corridor, closer this time. A roar of collapsing stone filled the air, followed by the crack of metal giving way.
Kalir stumbled, a reinforced beam crashing down near him, then a massive section of ceiling gave way, burying him to the waist in the rubble. A pained scream tore from his throat.
“Kalir!” Nira spun, rushing toward him.
Darian grabbed her arm. “Leave him.”
Nira’s eyes blazed with fury. “No, we don’t!” She jerked free, knife flashing as she hacked at the debris. “He’s one of ours!”
Thalyn rushed forward, but stopped cold. Darian didn't argue. His face was a mask of stone. He simply turned his back and hurried away. His stride was too fast.
Thalyn’s heart lurched, understanding dawning. “Darian, don’t!” Bastard didn’t look back.
The world erupted in a blinding flash, searing heat washing over Thalyn’s face. She was thrown against the wall, pain exploding through her legs, her vision blurring. Smoke roiled in the chamber, mingling with screams and the acrid bite of burning.
She hit the floor hard, her breath torn from her lungs, vision strobing with heat and smoke. Her legs were wrong. She knew it instantly, not just broken, but ruined. Her knees buckled inward when she tried to move, nerves sparking like frayed wires. Blood slicked the stone beneath her like oil.
Thalyn gasped for air, the ground shifting. She struggled to rise, muscles screaming, but her body betrayed her. Her hands clawed at the rubble, dragging her inches. Each pull set her vision spinning.
“Thalyn!” Nira’s voice, sharp as broken glass. She dropped beside her, knees in the soot, face streaked with blood and fury. “Don’t you dare quit on me.”
“I can’t feel my legs,” Thalyn croaked. The words barely made it past her lips.
“Then shut up and use your arms.”
Nira hauled her upright, an arm locking under her shoulder. Every step was a sickening jolt of agony. Thalyn’s boots scraped limply across the stone, leaving smears of red behind. Her vision tunneled, but Nira never slowed.
Behind them, Kalir’s screams echoed once more, and then the ceiling completely collapsed, cutting off the sound like a knife through rope. A final, choked grunt. Then silence.
“We can’t delay,” Nira rasped, voice shaking from exertion. “You’ll die here.”
Thalyn gritted her teeth as the stronghold tore itself apart. Each step brought another blast, another groan from the dying walls. The chamber behind them vanished in a bloom of fire. Nira dragged her forward, step by impossible step, until the world opened into cold night air and falling ash.
They stumbled from the ruins into choking smoke. The stronghold burned, fire clawing at the sky. Tarn stood there, wide-eyed, gaping at the spectacle.
Thalyn collapsed onto the slope, trembling uncontrollably. Her legs were twisted, blackened beneath torn fabric, flesh peeled back, muscle exposed in ugly, wet ribbons. She could smell herself burning.
Nira stood over her, panting, eyes flickering with a fury too raw to name.
Arvie’s warm voice surfaced from deep within, tinged with a cruel humor. “She was a good friend.”
Thalyn coughed, her throat raw. “No kidding,” she muttered, breathless and bitter as she woke up.497Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkqQlV2xtAz
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