The forest was eerily silent, the usual chirping of birds and rustling leaves absent as the group crouched in the shadows, waiting. Aidan felt the tension in the air like a coiled spring, ready to snap. They had chosen their position well, hidden among the dense foliage that lined the narrow pass. The strategy was simple—let the soldiers come to them, then strike from all sides.

Garret, the burly blacksmith, crouched next to Aidan, his eyes scanning the path below. The two others who had volunteered to fight, Kiera and Dalen, positioned themselves opposite Kaelira and Liora, forming a circle around the bottleneck.

“Here they come,” Liora whispered, her voice barely audible over the breeze. Aidan’s heart raced as he caught sight of the first soldiers entering the pass, their armour clinking softly.

Kaelira gave a signal, and the ambush began. Magic bolts flew from the shadows, striking the first line of soldiers with deadly precision. Aidan unleashed a [Fire Bolt], the spell searing through the air and exploding against a soldier’s chest. The man fell with a scream, and chaos erupted.

For a moment, it seemed as though the plan would work. The soldiers, caught off guard, faltered under the assault.

Garret was a whirlwind of motion, his massive hammer a blur as it arced through the air. He charged into the fray with a roar, swinging his weapon with ferocious strength.

The first soldier he encountered barely had time to raise his shield before Garret’s hammer smashed into it, shattering wood and bone alike. The soldier crumpled to the ground, and Garret was already turning, his eyes locked on the next target.

“Come on!” Garret bellowed, his voice booming across the battlefield. “Is this the best you’ve got?”

Another soldier rushed at him, sword drawn. Garret sidestepped the clumsy attack, bringing his hammer down in a powerful overhead swing that caught the soldier on the shoulder, sending him sprawling.

Nearby, Kiera and Dalen worked in tandem, their magic singing as bolts of lightning and ice flew from their hands. Kiera’s eyes were sharp and focused, tracking each enemy’s movement. She released an ice shard that sailed through the air, striking a soldier in the throat. He dropped without a sound, clutching at the shard protruding from his neck.

“Nice shot,” Dalen muttered as he cast again. His lightning bolt found its mark, striking the leg of a soldier who had ventured too close. The man stumbled, and Kiera quickly finished him.

The two of them moved like dancers, shifting positions to keep their line of sight clear. A shard or bolt would find its mark whenever a soldier attempted to close the distance.

The initial chaos gave the impression that they might prevail. Aidan felt a surge of hope as he cast another [Fire Bolt], watching the flames engulf yet another enemy. The soldiers’ formation broke as they hesitated, confusion spreading like wildfire among their ranks.

Garret’s voice rose above the clamour, directing the group with confidence and authority. “Keep pushing! Don’t give them a chance to regroup!”

As Garret continued his assault, he spotted an officer trying to rally the scattered soldiers. With a grunt of effort, Garret hefted his hammer and charged, determination burning in his eyes. The officer barely had time to react before Garret’s hammer struck with a bone-crunching impact, sending the man crashing into the dirt.

The momentum seemed to be on their side. Kiera and Dalen’s magic flew true, each finding its mark with deadly accuracy. The soldiers’ numbers were thinning, and for a fleeting moment, victory seemed within reach.

Then, everything changed.

Aidan saw her—a priestess in flowing white robes adorned with golden runes, stepping calmly into the fray. Her presence seemed to encourage the soldiers, who rallied at her command. A larger group followed behind her.

“Hold fast!” she called, her voice cutting through the din like a blade. Her eyes locked onto Kaelira, who met her challenge with a fierce glare.

“Priestess Althea,” Kaelira hissed, recognizing the woman from her past encounters.

Althea smiled coldly. “You cannot win, Kaelira. Surrender now, and I promise a swift end. We are not temple novices now.”

Kaelira responded by drawing her sword and charging at the priestess, the clash of their weapons ringing out. Sparks flew as they exchanged blows, the duel fierce and unrelenting.

Aidan found himself cornered by two soldiers who had slipped past the initial ambush. Their swords gleamed menacingly in the dappled sunlight as they circled him like predators.

“Well, what do we have here?” one soldier sneered. “A little boy playing hero?”

The other laughed, lunging forward to slash at Aidan’s arm. Aidan deflected the blow, but the second soldier struck from behind, opening a shallow cut on his back.

Pain flared, but Aidan gritted his teeth, refusing to give in. “[Fire Bolt]!” he shouted, throwing the spell at his attackers. One soldier ducked, while the other staggered back, singed but still standing.

“Is that all you’ve got?” the first soldier taunted, lunging again. Aidan barely parried, the clash of steel echoing as more cuts appeared on his arms and legs, each a reminder of how outmatched he was.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

The battle was slipping away from them. Garret and the others fought bravely, but the soldiers’ numbers were overwhelming. Aidan watched in horror as Garret fell, a spear piercing his chest. Kiera and Dalen were cut down moments later; their cries were lost amid the chaos.

Kaelira and Althea’s duel reached a crescendo, but the priestess was too powerful. With a final, brutal strike, she disarmed Kaelira and sent her sprawling to the ground.

“No!” Aidan cried, watching Kaelira struggle to rise. The soldiers seized the opportunity, closing in around her, kicking her repeatedly.

Althea turned her gaze to Aidan, a cruel smile on her lips. “Surrender, or she dies.”

Aidan hesitated, his heart torn. Every instinct screamed to fight on, but the sight of Kaelira, battered and at the mercy of their enemies, shattered his resolve. He dropped his sword, raising his hands in defeat.

“I surrender,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

A ripple of triumph spread through the soldiers, and Althea’s smile widened. “Wise choice.”

Then, Liora stepped from the shadows, her expression cold and unreadable. Aidan felt a chill run down his spine as the truth hit him like a blow.

“You,” he breathed, disbelief and betrayal mingling in his voice.

Liora shrugged, her eyes devoid of remorse. “I did what I had to. You were never going to win. I made my peace when they wiped out my village. I only survived because I promised to work with them to find the other villages.”

The soldiers tightened their grip on Aidan and Kaelira, forcing them to their knees.

“We… I… I trusted you,” shouted Aidan. “The whole village welcomed you. They trained you. Fed you. And this is how you repay them? Their blood is on your hands.”

Althea stepped forward, her gaze fixed on Aidan. “Enough. The Saint sends her regards. She wishes you to know that the Elder is dead, cut down for her defiance. She begged for her life before she died. Pitiful.”

Aidan’s heart clenched, the weight of the news crushing him. “No.” He whispered as he struggled to hold in the pain and loss he felt. The Elder had been a mentor, a figure for the whole village. The loss was a blow, and there was no recovery. She was the only reason he had even survived.

As the soldiers bound his hands, cold shackles clicked around his wrists. Aidan felt despair settle over him like a shroud. Their ambush had failed, their hopes dashed, and now they were prisoners of the forces they sought to escape.

Aidan was led away from the destroyed pass, his hands bound tightly as the victorious soldiers herded him toward a line of waiting wagons. He watched as Kaelira was dragged along. Her head bounced on each rock and tree branch with no care.

Each step reminded them of their defeat, the crushing weight of failure bearing down on Aidan’s shoulders. As they reached the grim procession of prison wagons, he looked at Kaelira, who remained limp. She didn’t respond to anything that happened to her as she was lifted.

The soldiers pushed them into the confined space of the wagon, where they joined the other captives. As the door slammed shut behind them, Aidan realized with a sinking heart that this was only the beginning of their ordeal.

The wagon jolted forward, throwing Aidan against the rough wooden bars as the soldiers secured the door with a heavy chain. The inside was cramped and dark, filled with the stench of sweat and fear. Aidan squinted, trying to make out the shapes of others who shared their grim fate.

A few other prisoners huddled against the wagon walls, their faces gaunt and eyes hollow. Shackles bit into their wrists and ankles, the cold metal a constant reminder of their captivity. Aidan winced as he shifted his position, the chains rattling softly with his movements.

Kaelira lay motionless beside him, her breathing shallow. He gently touched her shoulder, hoping for a response, but she remained unresponsive. Worry gnawed at him, the fear that she might not recover taking root in his mind. The fear of being alone again only drove him further into his spiralling thoughts.

The wagon rattled on, the journey stretching into an endless blur of days. The sun rose and fell, marking time in an indifferent rhythm as the convoy wound its way through dense forests and across green plains.

Aidan’s throat burned with thirst, his stomach a hollow pit of hunger. The soldiers offered no food or water, and the prisoners were left to endure in silence. Occasionally, the wagon would stop, and the soldiers would pull someone out momentarily, but they were never gone long.

The rest were forced to relieve themselves through the bars, a humiliating necessity that left Aidan feeling stripped of his dignity.

He tried to keep track of the days by the shifting light through the wagon’s slats, but fatigue and hunger blurred his senses. Each jolt of the wagon sent spikes of pain through his body, and he found himself drifting in and out of a restless sleep.

When they finally arrived at a town, Aidan barely noticed, his mind dulled by exhaustion. The wagon halted with a final, jarring lurch, and the clang of the chain being unlocked brought him back to a weary awareness. He could hear the bustle of a town outside—the murmur of voices, the clatter of hooves on cobblestones.

The door swung open, and harsh sunlight flooded in, blinding him momentarily. Rough hands grabbed him, hauling him out of the wagon. His legs buckled beneath him, unused to supporting his weight after so long in confinement. He stumbled, and the soldiers laughed as they dragged him upright.

Kaelira remained limp, carried out like a grain sack and dumped onto the ground. Aidan’s heart ached to see her so vulnerable, and he longed to reach out to her, to offer some comfort, but his chains held him back. Every worry and fear gripped him again like a hot brand on his skin, repeatedly burning him.

The soldiers pulled Aidan towards a stone building, its entrance flanked by guards. The air was filled with the smell of smoke and cooking food, a cruel reminder of his hunger. His vision swam, the world tilting as he tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

Through the doorway, the interior was dimly lit, the air cool and damp. Aidan felt the cold seep into his bones, the chill a stark contrast to the sun’s heat outside. The soldiers shoved him down a narrow corridor, their boots echoing off the stone walls, and he stumbled along, driven by the pull of the chains and the harsh commands barked at him.

They stopped at the end of the corridor before a heavy wooden door. One soldier fumbled with a set of keys, the metallic clink filling the silence as Aidan struggled to keep his balance. His muscles screamed in protest, and he felt a dizzying wave of fatigue wash over him.

The door creaked open, revealing a small, bare chamber. The soldiers pushed him inside, the door slamming shut behind him with a finality that left Aidan feeling utterly alone. The room was empty, save for a small window high above that let in a sliver of light.

He collapsed onto the floor, the stone cold and unforgiving against his skin. He lay there, fighting to stay conscious, each breath a battle against the crushing weight of despair. The journey had sapped his strength, and now, as a prisoner in this unknown place, hope seemed like a distant memory.

Aidan’s mind drifted, the darkness closing in as he tried to hold on to the image of Kaelira’s face, willing her to wake up, willing himself to keep fighting. But as the minutes dragged on, the struggle became harder to endure, and the silence of the cell swallowed him whole.