Amelia’s body groaned from the effort of hiking the steep mountain trail with Jonah slumped over her shoulders. The older man had stopped bleeding from the stump of what used to be his left arm, but he was yet to wake. She trudged through the snow, using the footprints of Nelson to keep from getting sucked down into the deep drifts.

Rico was behind her, carrying Prian in the same way as she. No one spoke as the beleaguered team labored up the mountain. There were sounds of fighting below, Alton still in the camp, but Amelia couldn’t bring herself to turn and watch. Her captain would live. She knew it in her bones. He would live. He had to.

A shout sounded from up ahead on the trail, and Amelia’s heart sank. If there were more Edorians…but no, she watched as one of the infantry charged them before recognition sank in. She heard him shout something behind him and more of the soldiers emerged from their position, hidden among the rocks.

She sighed with relief as two of the burlier men took Jonah from her. She rolled her sore shoulders and tried to circulate to soothe her muscles. As soon as she reached out to her core, she recoiled in shock. Her core was as raw as she could ever remember it. That power that surged through her from Alton had extracted its price.

Her grimaced and tried to stretch out her tired muscles the old-fashioned way. She walked to the head of their little column and met with the sergeants from the common troops. The sergeant for the infantry was a man named Torne and the scouts a woman named Elda. Despite being the same rank, both treated Amelia like a superior officer.

“Sir!” Torne said with a quick salute.

Amelia tried not to let her discomfort show. They needed her to be strong, so she would be. “Status of your units?” She asked.

“Six dead back at the camp. One succumbed to wounds already. Thirteen in fighting shape.” Torne responded first.

“Three dead at the camp. Seventeen in fighting shape.” Elda answered with somewhat better news.

“Have you found a safe location for us to rest?” Amelia asked.

“Yes sir! There is a large and well hidden cave a quarter mile from here up the trail. Our injured are already inside with a small guard. We were backtracking to find Wolf team when we ran into you. Is the captain..?” Elda let the question linger.

Amelia took a quick breath and answered, “still in the camp, being Alton.”

Torne and Elda both grinned. “Let’s get your injured to the cave. I will leave a rearguard to wait for the captain further down the pass.” Elda gave the order for five of her scouts to split off and move down the mountain.

Amelia buried her exhaustion and ordered everyone up the pass. With the extra help carrying the wounded, they were able to make good time. They reached the area near the cave and Amelia had to admit it was well hidden. Large boulders were dropped haphazardly around a small clearing with copses of alpine trees. The cave was behind a boulder and fronted by trees, only one entrance to defend.

They entered the cave and settled the injured in with the rest of the soldiers. A small fire was lit in the middle and providing plenty of warmth. Forty or so feet deep and a ceiling of ten foot. It was cramped with so many inside already. A small pile of rations and water canteens was piled on one wall.

“We took an accounting of everything we were carrying. We have enough food and water for one day with foraging, after that we need to spread out and hunt. Melting snow over the fire will work, but it’s time consuming and our canteens can’t handle that heat forever.” Torne answered her unasked question.

“It will do for now. Set a perimeter in the clearing and send a few soldiers to cut down branches off trees further up the path. We can build a false wall over the front and make it harder to see in the daylight. Send more up for firewood, we can’t risk running out tonight, the temperatures will get deadly.” Amelia gave a few orders and received affirmations.

Amelia ducked outside and walked to the edge of the clearing. The battlefield below was too far to make out any fine details. It looked to be in chaos, with mindless chasing soldiers over the clearing, a rout in the making. She strained her eyes to search for Alton, to no avail.

Soft footsteps sounded behind her, and a hand was placed on her shoulder. She knew its owner without turning and reached up to grab Rico’s hand and gave it a squeeze. They stood in companionable silence and watched the scene unfold below them. Amelia was alive to fight another day, Wolf team was alive to fight another day.

---

Amelia crept through the snow as silent as she could be. Prian was off to her right, bow strung and ready to take down the foe that had avoided them all morning. She cursed her lack of snowshoes as her foot sank deeply into the fresh powder laid down last night. Her legs were frozen and numb despite the bright sun overhead.

They slid across the white expanse, following the trail. Small drops of blood mixed in with the tracks and strengthened their resolve. Another dozen feet passed in silence until the pair rounded a large boulder and saw their prey hunched over on the trail. Prian held up his hand to stop her and lowered himself to a knee.

She watched him take a deep breath before releasing his arrow. It was a perfect shot, lancing through the air and thudding through the chest of the Rima. They broke out into a run before it could shrug this one off like the last arrow. Amelia plunged her sword down into his neck and silenced its cries.

Prian let out a whoop of excitement at their success. Amelia grabbed him from behind and swallowed the smaller man in a hug. He pretended to fight against her and wiggle out, the twos elation clear for the world to see. Amelia let him go and bent down to wipe her sword off on the snow. It stained it blood red in a grim reminder of the task at hand.

She stood up and looked around for landmarks to mark their location. It would be a long few hours dragging the fiend back to their carefully hidden cave. Prian got on the other side and helped her lift the beast before they started walking back down the way they came.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Amelia let her mind wander as they labored under the sun. It was the third day since they fled the pass and escaped into the mountains. The first day they had remained inside to avoid wandering Edorian eyes. The second day was spent foraging for food and a source of water less resource consuming than melting snow. Neither had panned out.

Prian and Amelia left early in the morning of the third day to hunt for food. Many of the soldiers from the infantry and scout units were still injured from the push out of the enemy camp. Mana users tended to heal faster than their common counterparts. Letty was back to her feet but taking it slow after nearly dying on the canyon wall, feeling the harsh feedback of consuming too many health potions. Rico and Nelson were on guard duty in the clearing outside of the cave.

Alton collapsed when he caught up to them on the trail. Lews said it wasn’t an injury, nothing was broken or bleeding. He was breathing normally and appeared to be in a deep sleep. Jonah was in the same condition and Lews feared a healing error from the concussion. Time would tell. For now, Amelia was in charge, like it or not.

The foreign mana that had propelled them to victory extracted a costly amount in return. Every one of them felt their cores raw and scraped. Amelia could circulate, but the pain was nearly unbearable, even three days later. It was pure physical strength they had to rely on to drag the Rima back to the cave. She was thankful for the training exercises being forced on them both with and without mana.

Amelia was also grateful for Prian taking a tracking elective at the academy. He had noticed the tracks left by the fiend before the snow wiped them away. She considered the fiend between them. It was a quadruped with shaggy fur and vicious horns on its head. It stood five feet at its highest and must have weighed a solid two hundred pounds based on her burning arms and back.

Lews assured them the meat from fiends was edible if cooked. He was more learned in that area than anyone else, so they had no choice but to trust him. Without food soon, healing would stall and they would be forced into a dire decision. Try to make it back to Agorran controlled territory while carrying the captain unconscious, or leave him with a guard and try to bring back a rescue team.

She guessed it had taken them two hours to hunt during the morning. Dragging it back to camp would take until the afternoon at the earliest. They had to tread carefully without access to mana. Slips, falls or encounters with other fiends could turn deadly in this remote area.

To her great relief, no Edorians had been seen searching for them. The hot debate raging around the fire each night had two chief sides. The Edorians were too afraid of Alton to consider hunting them down, or they didn’t care enough to divert forces from the assault on Fort Kitsu. Amelia was a staunch supporter of the first view.

When Alton was found by the scouts on the trail, he was covered in blood and viscera. Most of that hadn’t been there when she split from him. The grin he wore was described as feral until he collapsed. The scouts were forced to carry him all the way to the cave.

She called for a break and sent Prian back to cover the trail. There wasn’t much they could do about the blood but cover it with snow. The evidence would remain that the area was disturbed, but it felt better than leaving it obvious where they traveled. Her body was burning from the effort of carrying the fiend, and she stretched her sore muscles.

An enormous boulder stood nearby, and she climbed it to get a view of the surrounding area. They were near the top of yet another valley that descended close to the trail and hidden camp. She could see all the way to the plains at the center of Lucia Valley from this high up. The view was beautiful, sunlight reflecting off the snow and casting the world in light. Mountains were visible all around her, peaks and valleys doting the landscape. Fort Kitsu was located too close to the base of the mountains, her view of it blocked.

Amelia said a small prayer and sat to wait for Prian to return. She sent a pulse through the communicator to alert Letty that they were alive and returning. After the battle at the pass, she found herself able to infuse. It happened almost by accident. Handing the stone to Letty to set a watch rotation, she felt a pull from her core in the direction of her hand. With a little coaching from Letty, she could infuse it. Small miracles.

—-

“In your divine madness, O’ Lord of Chaos,

Let us find solace amidst this journey.

Protect us as we journey through ever-shifting realms,

And grant us safe passage through the maelstrom of uncertainty.”

---

The fire crackled softly in the small cave. Shadows danced on the walls as the various men and women moved around. Amelia sat across from Rico and listened as Miser argued with one of the scouts about how to cook the Rima. Watching them erect the spit and try to carve the beast up provided much needed entrainment for the beleaguered soldiers.

“That’s too high! How will it ever cook the backside from up there?” Miser complained.

“Boy, have you ever cooked a meal?” The scout shot back.

“Have you ever cooked a fiend over a spit in a cave while hiding in the mountains in the dead of winter?” Miser retorted.

“Bah!” She huffed and threw her hands up, conceding the fight.

Amelia giggled from her position next to the sleeping form of Nelson. He was also facing the backlash of too many health potions in the fight's aftermath. The big lug had hidden his injuries from her as he carried his brother up the mountain. Upon reaching the cave and taking his armor off, she had found his side caked in blood from a stab.

She put a hand on his shoulder and subconsciously willed him to heal. Rico noticed her hand from across the fire and gave her a wink. Her cheeks reddened as she pulled it back and shot him a glare. The scout unit had taken over the night watches. Experienced in this type of terrain and environment.

The temperature in the cave was almost warm enough to forget it was the dead of winter. Her eyes grew heavy, and she toned out the various conversations happening around her. Tomorrow they would need to hunt again and start planning how to get out of the mountains. The scouts had maps of this area but lacked knowledge of the current disposition of Edorian troops. Every route would have the risk of finding danger.

One of the soldiers was singing in a low voice near the entrance of the cave. Her voice was hauntingly beautiful as it carried over the assembled men and women. Conversations faded as everyone listened in. Tears rimmed her eyes and Amelia felt the pain and sorrow on her words.

“In the shadows of night, under the moon’s grim light.

Listen now to the tale of battles fought in endless plight,

With swords clashing, shields crashing and screams that pierce the air,

Men march to meet their fate, in the shadows of despair.

Oh, the horrors of war, where blood stains the ground,

Where valor meets folly, and death’s song resounds.

May we pray for peace, may we pray for the day,

When swords are sheathed, and wars price we longer pay.

On the battlefield, brothers stand tall,

Now lie the victims, of wars cruel call.

Their faces pale, their eyes forever closed,

Tales of bravery, all we have left to hold.

Oh, the horrors of war, where blood stains the ground,

Where valor meets folly, and death’s song resounds.

May we pray for peace, may we pray for the day,

When swords are sheathed, and wars price we longer pay.

In the midst of chaos, some find glorys light,

But at what cost, do they bear that righteous fight?

For every victory won, a hundred lives are lost,

In the eternal dance of war, an unfathomable cost.

Oh, the horrors of war, where blood stains the ground,

Where valor meets folly, and death’s song resounds.

May we pray for peace, may we pray for the day,

When swords are sheathed, and wars price we longer pay.

So let us raise our voices, in songs of lament,

For those who fell, in battles descent.

May their sacrifice not be in vain, may it echo through the years,

As we strive for peace, the end of wars bitter tears.