Chapter 3 Conflict

Ashe’s heart pounded as she spun around, her breath quickening as she tried to make sense of the chaos unfolding around her. Sydney was crumpled on the ground, clutching her father’s body, her sobs wrenching the still air. Ashe stared at her, the full weight of the situation sinking in.

“What just happened?” she asked, her voice shaking. But there was no time for answers.

Ashe’s head snapped up toward the entrance of the cabin. There, standing with an air of casual menace, were three men. Dressed in black suits, they looked wholly out of place. The one in the middle, with cold, calculating eyes, held something in his hand—a tool, similar to the one Thomas had brandished back at the camp. Ashe’s mind raced, but there was no time to process. The man raised the object, pointing it directly at Sydney.

“No!” Ashe shouted, her body reacting before her mind could catch up. “Flicker!”

She vanished, a burst of speed propelling her forward as the world blurred. Ashe reappeared in front of Sydney, arms spread wide as a sharp bang pierced the air. The force of it reverberated in her ears. Something hot grazed past her shoulder, so close it warped her armor slightly. Sydney let out a sharp gasp of terror behind her, but Ashe stood firm.

Without a second thought, Ashe's hand went to her sword, and once again she was reminded of its absence. Her eyes locked on the man in the middle, the one holding the weapon—so similar to Thomas’s, yet far more dangerous. Her vision sharpened, the world narrowing down to this moment, to these three men, and to the cold fury building inside her.

“You’ll regret that,” she hissed, her voice barely controlled.

The man didn’t blink. His hand remained steady as he lowered the weapon with a kind of cruel indifference. Behind him, the other two men stepped forward, their hands drifting toward their own weapons, the same emotionless gaze in their eyes.

“Sydney, get up and stay behind me!” Ashe ordered, her voice cutting through the haze of shock and grief. She reached inward, feeling for the scant remnants of her mana. “Only enough for a couple of spells,” she assessed, a grim realization settling over her. She continued to watch the three men but they seemed to be waiting for her to make the first move. Ashe felt a trembling hand grab her arm.

“Sydney when I tell you to, run to the truck and take cover” Ashe whispered softly, not daring to look away from the Three men.

“Ok” A small voice replied still trembling

“Go!” Ashe ordered before dashing at the Three men

“Capture the otherworlder alive, kill the girl, no witnesses” the man in the middle calmly ordered to his comrades

Ashe darted forward, her instincts screaming at her to close the gap before the men could act. She could hear Sydney scrambling behind her, rushing toward the truck as ordered. But Ashe's focus remained on the three men.

The one in the middle, clearly the leader, was unfazed. His companions, however, moved swiftly at his command. The man on the left raised his weapon, pointing it directly toward Sydney as she ran. Ashe’s heart pounded. She had no time to think—only to act.

“Wind Thrust!” she shouted, expending a precious portion of her mana. A gust of wind shot from her palm, slamming into the man on the left. He staggered, his shot going wide, missing Sydney by inches as she dove behind the truck.

Ashe didn’t stop. She was already on the move again, closing in on the remaining two men. But the leader was quicker than she expected. With a smooth motion, he raised his weapon and fired.

Ashe barely had time to dodge, the loud crack echoing through the air as she rolled to the side, feeling the impact of the shot as it grazed her armor.

"Flicker!" she cast again, disappearing for a brief moment in a blur of motion, reappearing just behind the second man, who had just turned to aim at her.

She didn’t hesitate. Ashe swung her arm out, channeling all her remaining strength into a strike, knocking him out with his weapon free from his hands. But before she could follow up, a sharp pain shot through her side. She gasped, realizing the leader had drawn another weapon—smaller, more compact.

"Got you," he muttered coldly.

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Ashe gritted her teeth, her vision swimming as the pain grew. But she refused to fall. Sydney’s terrified face flashed in her mind. She had to protect her.

Ashe dove forward, her heart pounding in her chest as she hit the ground and grabbed the fallen weapon. Her hand closed around the cold, unfamiliar metal as she gritted her teeth, forcing herself to focus. She couldn't afford hesitation. Not now.

“Flicker!” she shouted, her body vanishing into a blur. She reappeared a few meters closer to the truck, her legs nearly giving out beneath her as pain wracked her frame. Too much magic. Too fast.

But there was no time to recover. Ashe straightened, ignoring the agony, and raised the strange weapon with shaking hands. The leader stood there, impassive, his gaze fixed on her with cold calculation.

Ashe’s breath caught in her throat. She aimed the gun, her fingers trembling against the trigger. Her mind raced—no mana left for another spell. This was it.

She pulled the trigger.

The gun fired, and the crack echoed through the clearing. The bullet struck the man squarely, snapping his head back with the impact. For a fleeting moment, Ashe dared to hope. But the man didn’t fall. Instead, with an eerie slowness, he raised his head, a wicked smile creeping across his face as if the shot had done nothing more than annoy him.

“Shit… he's just toying with me,” Ashe murmured, feeling the dread gnaw at her insides. She pressed her hand to her side, checking her wound—it was still bleeding. Her fingers came away slick with blood, and her mind raced. What little mana she had left wouldn’t save her now.

“What do you want with me?” she asked, her voice barely hiding the strain of pain and fear. "Why did you kill Thomas?"

The man stared at her, his expression one of cold amusement. "You are an otherworlder. We can’t have civilians aware of your existence." His tone was almost casual, as if murder was just another mundane task for the day.

Ashe’s heart sank. She was cornered, out of options. She had no mana left to spare, and this gun—a clumsy tool in her hands—was nothing compared to the sword she so desperately wished for.

“Are you done—”

The man's words were cut off by a sudden wail of sirens. The sound pierced the tension like a blade. Red and blue lights flashed as multiple cars pulled up to the house, their presence forcing the three men to hesitate. Ashe saw her opening. She darted behind the truck, grabbing Sydney’s arm.

“Ashe, you—” Sydney began, her voice shaking with grief and confusion.

“Flicker.”

The word was soft but charged with desperation. Ashe pushed the last dregs of her mana into the spell, feeling it rip through her like a storm. The world around them vanished, replaced by the sudden, cool embrace of a forest. They reappeared, disoriented, and Ashe crumpled to the ground, her breathing labored, blood dripping from her nose as her body gave out under the strain of the magic.

Sydney stumbled around, disoriented, her eyes wide with shock as if trying to make sense of what had just unfolded. The trees swayed gently around them, but her gaze landed quickly on Ashe, who was slumped on the ground, her face pale with exhaustion and her breaths shallow.

"We're safe…for now, I think," Ashe muttered, her voice weak as her vision blurred. The weight of her injuries and mana depletion was dragging her under. Sydney rushed to her side, her mouth moving, but Ashe couldn’t understand her words. The world around her faded into darkness, the pain too much to bear, and she collapsed, unconscious.

When Ashe awoke, the sun was already low on the horizon, casting long shadows through the trees. She groaned softly, trying to push herself up, but every movement sent waves of soreness through her body. Slowly, she turned her head and saw Sydney sitting against a tree, fast asleep. Relief washed over Ashe, seeing her companion safe, but it quickly shifted into concern.

Sydney’s face was streaked with dried tears, her cheeks flushed, and her long golden hair hung in disarray around her face. She looked small and fragile, as if the weight of everything had finally caught up with her. Ashe stared for a moment, feeling a pang of guilt. This girl had lost everything in the span of hours. Ashe wasn't sure if it was her fault or not but she felt responsible for what had happened.

With a soft sigh, Ashe leaned back, grimacing as pain flared through her side. The wound had stopped bleeding, but it wouldn’t hold for long—not if she moved too much. They could worry about explanations later. For now, it was about survival.

“Ashe... are you okay?” Sydney’s voice broke through the quiet. She sat against the tree, eyes red from crying, voice hoarse from all she'd endured.

“I’m... alright, for now.” Ashe muttered, though she wasn’t certain of that. “How are you holding up?”

“Not great,” Sydney admitted, her voice trembling. “Who were those guys?”

Ashe exhaled sharply, not sure how to answer. “I don’t know. But... they confirmed my suspicion. I’m not from this world.”

Sydney stared at her for a moment, then looked away, muttering, “Yeah.” The two sat in heavy silence, the weight of everything pressing down on them.

Eventually, Ashe forced herself upright, swaying slightly from exhaustion. “We should figure out how to get out of this forest.”

She stumbled over to Sydney, extending a hand. After a brief hesitation, Sydney took it, rising to her feet and brushing dirt from her pants. She stared into the trees for a long moment before speaking.

“I know the way back to town,” she said quietly. “And I know someone who might be able to help us.”

Without another word, Sydney began walking through the forest. Ashe followed behind her in silence keeping a keen eye on their surroundings.