Kira

We had been confined to the cage that was Erin's house for a week now. The outside world, once a battlefield, was now a terrifying unknown. The sprawling two-story structure, with its high ceilings and ornately carved doorways, seemed to mock our current situation. A band of rebels, forced to seek refuge in these opulent surroundings, the plush carpets muffling the urgency that pounded in my chest.

The only link we had to the outside world was Edgar, the servant, his face perpetually etched with worry as he brought us news. The king's men were scouring the land, their relentless search tightening like a noose around our necks. Whispers of wanted posters plastered in every town square, of hefty rewards offered for our capture, filled the air, heavy and oppressive.

Days bled into each other, marked only by the rising and setting sun filtering through the heavy drapes in our assigned rooms. The first night, after a tense dinner of untouched delicacies, Kass and I had sought out the familiarity of shared slumber. We curled up in the same bed, the warmth of her presence a grounding force amidst the swirling chaos. But the oversized room, with its high-backed canopy bed and thick velvet drapes, felt stifling. Here, every comfort felt like a betrayal, a stark reminder of the life we were fighting against - a life of privilege built on the backs of the oppressed.

I hated it all. The plush bedding muffled the callus on my hand, a reminder of countless sword drills. The gilded picture frames felt like a slap in the face, showcasing a past life of lavish parties and empty smiles. Even Edgar, the sole servant left behind, was a constant source of irritation. His nervous shuffles as he brought us meals, half of which remained untouched, served as a stark reminder of our dependence on the very system we were fighting against.

The property was fenced off with a sturdy gate, offering a semblance of security. A sprawling garden provided a space for us to train. The rustle of leaves in the wind mingled with the clang of our swords, a faint echo of the battles we so desperately yearned to return to. But the training couldn't quell the fear that gnawed at me every time a shadow flickered in the distance, every time the wind carried the faint sound of approaching horses.

One week turned into two, and my frustration grew with each passing sunrise. We were prisoners, not guests, in this oversized cage. The house, once a symbol of security, now felt like a tomb, confining our hope and our freedom. We needed a way out, a plan to escape and rejoin the fight. But with Elyse still unconscious, our only path back to the rebellion remained severed. Trapped in this luxurious prison, the weight of responsibility, the burden of Caleb's sacrifice, pressed down on me with each passing moment. We couldn't stay here forever. We had to fight back.

Sleep was a fragile visitor, chased away by nightmares of Caleb's face contorted in silent agony and the king's maniacal laughter echoing through the chamber.

Our days were a monotonous cycle of worry and hushed planning. We trained, yes, but a leaden despair hung heavy in the air. Our most pressing concern was getting word to Marcus and William. Without them, we were a fractured wing of a broken bird, incapable of taking flight. Every attempt to send a message – a coded note smuggled through a passing merchant, a prearranged signal fire – felt fraught with risk. Every option seemed to lead us straight into a waiting trap.

For now, we decided to wait. Wait for the fervor of the initial search to wane, for the king's men to shift their focus from relentless pursuit to a more methodical combing of the countryside. Wait, most importantly, for Elyse to wake.

Under different circumstances, Kilian might have seamlessly slotted into our group. In another life—one free from the weight of rebellion, betrayal, and survival—his easy humor and magnetic charm could have made him the glue that held us together. Instead, here, in the midst of our fragile camaraderie, he was an enigma, a puzzle none of us seemed equipped to solve.

Kass, perpetually stressed and carrying the weight of our collective survival, found him irritating at best. His jokes grated against her nerves like sandpaper, and though she rarely snapped outright, the tight set of her jaw every time he cracked wise spoke volumes. Yet I could see it wasn’t Kilian she was truly angry at—it was the pressure, the crushing weight of our circumstances, and her fear of failure. Kilian just happened to be an easy outlet.

Finn, by contrast, adored him. They shared a kindred spirit in mischief, exchanging quips and pulling harmless pranks that lightened the mood in an otherwise stifling atmosphere. If Kass’s temper was a storm cloud hovering over us, Finn and Kilian were the flickering bursts of lightning, brief but dazzling. Their shared laughter echoed through the hallways, a reminder that even now, some semblance of joy could survive.

Isaac, ever the thoughtful and measured one, didn’t know what to make of Kilian. He was a creature of precision and order, and Kilian was chaos incarnate. Kilian’s humor seemed to leave him off-balance, unsure whether to laugh or scold, and more often than not, he simply opted for quiet bewilderment.

And then there was Erin. She didn’t give Kilian the satisfaction of confusion. She met his humor head-on, shooting back with curt, razor-sharp wit that left him momentarily stunned but visibly delighted. If anything, her refusal to let him rattle her only fueled his determination to try harder. Their exchanges, rapid-fire and relentless, became a sort of entertainment for the rest of us—a battle of wills with no clear victor.

As for me? I saw through him. The bravado, the tomfoolery, the endless need to fill the silence with humor—it wasn’t hard to recognize it for what it was. I’d seen it before, in quieter moments. Kilian’s humor wasn’t just a defense mechanism; it was armor. Somewhere beneath the smirks and quick-witted comebacks, there was a deep well of sadness and fear, one he was desperate to keep hidden.

So I did what I could. I didn’t push, didn’t pry. But when his antics went too far, I was the one to quietly tell him to take it down a notch. He always did. And slowly, he found his place among us, his humor softening the jagged edges of our situation. When we were at our most fractured, arguing over plans and bristling with frustration, it was Kilian—of all people—who sometimes served as the voice of reason. It was unexpected, yes, but not unwelcome.

Despite everything, he integrated well. He wasn’t the thread holding us together—not yet, at least—but he was the needle stitching our frayed edges. And in those rare, fleeting moments when he let the mask slip, when the humor gave way to something quieter, more vulnerable, I knew one thing for certain: Kilian was fighting his own battles alongside ours. And that made him one of us.

Kass had become our eyes and ears, her post by the large window a constant vigil. Every so often, she'd jerk upright, a tense whisper escaping her lips as she reported the distant rumble of approaching riders or the glint of sunlight reflecting off armor. Unlike her usual self, she barely touched the food Edgar brought, constantly pushing the plate away with a distracted wave.

"You’ve been staring out that window for hours," Kilian said, sauntering into the room with his usual casual air. His boots barely made a sound against the plush carpet, and yet his presence was impossible to ignore.

"And you’ve been avoiding anything resembling work," Kass retorted, not bothering to glance away from her post by the window. Her sharp eyes tracked the horizon like a hawk, watching for the slightest movement.

"Someone has to ensure morale stays intact," Kilian shot back, collapsing onto the armchair with a theatrical sigh."And by morale, I mean ensuring the wine cellar remains unpillaged by our fearless band of misfits."

Kass turned, finally tearing her gaze away."You’re a distraction."

"Correction: I’m your distraction. You’re welcome," Kilian said with a grin that would have been charming if it weren’t so infuriating.

I couldn’t help but laugh softly from my spot on the couch."He’s not entirely wrong."

Kass groaned and turned back to the window."Go bother Kira. She’s more patient with your nonsense."

"Patience is overrated," Kilian quipped."What’s the fun in being tolerable?"

Isaac entered the room, a bundle of herbs clutched in his hands and a furrow in his brow."If you two keep sniping at each other, I’ll have to start treating Kass for a stress-induced headache."

"You’re assuming she doesn’t already have one," Kilian said, grinning.

Isaac rolled his eyes."And you’re assuming you’re not the cause."

Kass snorted."Finally, someone with sense."

Isaac set the herbs down on a nearby table and began sorting them with practiced precision."If we’re going to be stuck here much longer, I’ll need to find more supplies. The garden’s decent, but it’s not enough."

"You’re welcome to wander into town and pick some up," Kilian said."I’m sure the guards won’t mind."

Isaac gave him a pointed look."And I’m sure your wit will save me when they do."

"It’s been known to work," Kilian replied with a mock-serious nod.

"Not on anyone with an ounce of common sense," Isaac muttered, turning back to his work.

In the dining hall later that evening, Kilian’s wit proved both a balm and a thorn.

"If you stab the roast chicken with any more vigor, Finn, it’s going to sprout wings and fly off," Kilian teased as Finn sawed at his meal with grim determination.

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Finn glared but couldn’t quite hide the twitch of a smile."I’m imagining it’s the king’s head."

"Careful," Kilian said, mock-serious."You’ll put Edgar out of work."

Edgar, passing behind Kilian with a tray, nearly tripped over his own feet."I, uh… would never presume…" he stammered before fleeing to the safety of the kitchen.

Erin, seated at the head of the table, shot Kilian a glare."You could be less… you."

"But then what would you all do without my sparkling personality to brighten these dreary days?" Kilian’s grin widened as he leaned back in his chair, balancing precariously on its back two legs.

"Fall asleep in peace?" Kass muttered, not looking up from her plate.

Finn, usually a bottomless pit, barely touched his meal. The once lively glint in his eyes was replaced by a dull worry.

Erin and I were huddled over maps that night, whispering plans under the thin blankets that barely kept the chill at bay. Erin, her eyes shadowed with worry, pointed to a section of the map."Look," she said, tracing a line with her finger."This house, is quite close to the castle. They'll be watching this place like hawks."

We both knew the unspoken truth. We couldn't risk an escape without Elyse. Her magic, maybe our only way back to the rebellion's hidden base, lay dormant, her body drained by the strain of creating the portal. We were stranded, cut off, the weight of our failure growing heavier with each passing day.

The oppressive silence in the house shattered on the seventeenth day. A weak moan, barely audible at first, drifted down the hallway from the room at the top of the stairs. My heart lurched, leaping into my throat as I scrambled to my feet.

Elyse.

We all converged on her room, a mixture of hope and trepidation etched on our faces. There she lay, pale and gaunt, but her eyes, once vacant pools, now held a flicker of recognition.

Relief washed over me, but it was cautious, tinged with the bitter knowledge of our predicament. Elyse was awake, yes, but the toll the portal had taken was evident. She devoured Edgar's food with desperation. We needed to leave, and soon. Every passing day felt like a nail hammered into Caleb's coffin. The king wouldn't hesitate to make an example of him, a gruesome reminder of the rebellion's defiance.

After Isaac had coaxed Elyse into finishing her herbal tea, the room settled into a quieter rhythm. She was still pale and frail, but her spirit seemed brighter with every passing hour. Later that evening, we all gathered in the sitting room, reluctant to leave her side for too long.

Elyse lifted her hands and signed a single word, her movements slow and deliberate. Caleb?

Isaac froze, the pouch of herbs in his hands slipping slightly. He cleared his throat, and I could see his usual composure cracking."Elyse, you need to focus on resting right now," he said, his voice shaky.

Erin cut in, her no-nonsense tone slicing through the room."Elyse, we left Caleb behind. We didn’t have a choice. He stayed so we could escape. So you could escape." Her gaze was steady, unyielding, and her words fell like stones.

Elyse’s brows furrowed as the words sank in. Her lips parted slightly, but she didn’t sign again, her hands falling limp into her lap. The stillness in her posture made the air in the room feel heavier.

Isaac fidgeted, his voice soft and hesitant."I… I’m sorry."

I watched Elyse carefully. Her expression didn’t change, but I knew her well enough to catch the faint tightening of her jaw, the storm behind her eyes. It wasn’t us she was angry at—it was the king.

Erin leaned forward again, her voice softer but still firm."Elyse, we’ll find a way to fix this. But right now, you need to focus on getting stronger. Caleb would want that."

For a long moment, Elyse said nothing, her silence more profound than any words. Then, her lips curled into a faint, chilling smile. She lifted her hands and signed one final statement. I’ll carve his heart out.

The room fell into stunned silence. My breath hitched, the contrast between Elyse’s innocent appearance and the venom in her words sending a chill through me. Her gaze burned with a quiet, seething fury that left no room for doubt—she meant every word.

A knot of worry tightened in my stomach. Elyse, in her weakened state, wouldn't be able to conjure another portal, not one strong enough to transport us all. We needed a plan, a daring escape that didn't rely solely on her magic.

I glanced at Erin, her brow furrowed in deep concentration. She, more than anyone, understood the limitations of our situation.

"We can't risk another portal," she said finally, her voice grim."Elyse needs time to recover her strength."

A tense silence followed. Finn, his gaze distant, seemed lost in a world of his own making. Kass chewed on her bottom lip.

The weight of leadership, a mantle I never sought, pressed down on me with crushing force. These weren't just faces anymore, not just fellow rebels. They were lives entrusted to my decisions, lives I was accountable for. Fear, cold and sharp, snaked its way into my heart. What if I failed them? What if my choices led them straight into a waiting trap?

A longing, sharp and unexpected, ripped through me. I missed Caleb. Missed the quiet strength he radiated, the way his presence seemed to anchor me even amidst the chaos. I missed the way his mind, always a step ahead, could untangle the most complex problems. In his absence, the burden of strategy, of planning, felt overwhelming.

Would he have a plan? Would he see a solution where I saw only dead ends? His sharp wit, his unwavering belief in our cause… even the memory of his touch sent a comforting warmth through me. In the darkness of our predicament, I clung to that memory, a flickering ember against the encroaching despair.

Erin would likely propose a well-organized but cautious breakout. But caution wouldn't buy us time. We needed audacity, a boldness that mirrored the growing desperation gnawing at my insides.

So, as the morning sun painted the garden in golden hues, I watched Erin and Finn spar. With a determined nod, I stole away, seeking Kass.

I found her in the library. Kass paced the length of the room, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, tension radiating from every step. I leaned against the heavy oak table, running my fingers over the grain, trying to keep my frustration in check.

"We need to move," I said, my voice firm."Marcus and William are waiting for us. If we can regroup at the base, we’ll have enough backup to storm the castle and get Caleb out before—"

"Before what?" Kass snapped, rounding on me."Before he spills everything he knows to the king? Or before he finishes playing us?"

I felt a flare of anger."You know he’s not a traitor. He saved us."

"And that could’ve been part of the plan," she retorted, her tone sharp enough to cut."A convenient 'sacrifice' to keep us trusting him. Kira, open your eyes. Caleb isn’t worth losing anyone else over."

I stared at her, the weight of her words sinking in. Kass, ever the realist, always brash and unyielding, was digging her heels in.

"We owe him a chance," I said, my voice quieter now, almost pleading."He stayed behind so we could escape. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?"

She hesitated, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes, but then she shook her head."No. It doesn’t. Because I’m not risking all of us for him. Not again."

The finality in her tone was like a slap. My throat tightened, anger and disappointment swirling in a toxic mix."Fine," I snapped."Stay here, Kass. Sit and stew in your bravado. I’ll figure it out myself."

Before she could respond, I turned on my heel and stormed out of the room, my boots echoing against the stone floors. My vision blurred slightly with the heat of my frustration. Kass might have been our most daring fighter, but her stubbornness was suffocating. We didn’t have the luxury of inaction.

I found Kilian in the study, perched on the edge of a weathered armchair with a book in his hands. He looked up as I entered, his sharp eyes immediately catching the tension in my posture.

"Let me guess," he said, setting the book aside."Kass being Kass again?"

I let out a sharp breath and collapsed into the chair across from him."She refuses to help with Caleb. She’ll agree to escape plans, but she won’t lift a finger to save him."

Kilian nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful."She’s not wrong to be cautious."

"Cautious? She’s letting her spite blind her," I snapped."Do you think he’d betray us?"

He leaned back, tapping a finger against his chin."No," he said finally."But Kass doesn’t see it that way. She’s thinking with her pride, not her head."

I flopped onto the couch across from him, rubbing my temples. "She won’t listen. She refuses to even consider saving Caleb. Says it’s not worth the risk."

Kilian closed the book, leaning forward with interest. "What do you think?"

"I think she’s wrong," I said, my voice firm. "He’s not the enemy. We owe it to him to try."

"Then stop wasting your time arguing with her," Kilian said, a sly smile tugging at his lips. "You know Kass is too stubborn to admit she’s wrong. Work around her."

I frowned. "And how do you propose we do that?"

Kilian’s smirk faded, replaced by a thoughtful frown. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "What’s your plan?"

"I don’t know," I admitted, dragging a hand through my hair. "We need reinforcements. If we can get back to Marcus and William, maybe we can rally a group and storm the castle. But time’s running out, and Kass won’t budge. I’m running out of options."

Kilian tilted his head, a spark of mischief lighting his eyes. "You’re thinking too loud, sis. Why not go with what we know works?"

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

He grinned. "Disguises. Remember how you got into Dun Cyren the first time? The guards won’t expect us to walk right back in so soon. Especially not if we’re clever about it."

The memory clicked into place. The last time we’d infiltrated the castle, we’d posed as traveling merchants, slipping past the guards with forged papers and borrowed finery. It had been a long shot then, but it had worked. Maybe… maybe it could work again.

"You think we could pull it off?" I asked, the seed of an idea taking root.

"Why not?" Kilian shrugged, leaning back in the chair. "The key is confidence and timing. If we act like we belong there, the guards won’t question us. And if we disguise ourselves well enough, no one will recognize us until it’s too late."

I let out a slow breath, the plan forming in my mind. It was risky, yes, but no more so than sitting here doing nothing while Caleb’s fate hung in the balance.

"It could work," I said, the beginnings of a smile tugging at my lips. "It has to work."

Kilian’s grin widened. "That’s the spirit. Now, let’s figure out how to make you look like someone who’s definitely not wanted in every corner of the kingdom."

That evening, we briefed everyone about the plan. Kilian and I explained how we’d use Edgar’s discarded clothes to disguise ourselves as travelers or servants and join the crowds fleeing Dun Cyren. The chaos outside would work in our favor, masking our identities. From there, we’d head to the next city, find a horse wagon, and use it to travel to Elmwood and the base.

Erin was quick to voice her dissent."Disguise? That's madness!"

A tense silence followed. Finn rubbed his eye patch thoughtfully. Isaac now seemed to sense the gravity of the situation, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and excitement.

Elyse, perched on the edge of a dusty armchair, watched the exchange with a mix of emotions. Though too weak to participate in the physical aspects of the escape, determination burned in her bright eyes. She raised a hand, her fingers forming intricate signs. It was a simple gesture, but its meaning was clear – she was in.

Her silent support, her unwavering belief in the cause, was a beacon of hope amidst the uncertainty. With her by our side, we might just pull off this audacious plan.

Finally, Erin spoke, her voice low but resolute."I hope you know what you’re doing."

"You’ve seen us fight," Kilian said with a mock salute."What do you think?"

"I think you’re a walking disaster," she retorted, but the faintest smirk tugged at her lips."And I’m trusting you with my life."

"Good choice," he said, flashing a wink."I’m great under pressure."

A wave of relief washed over me. We were far from the finish line, the path ahead fraught with danger. But for the first time since our capture, a glimmer of hope flickered in the darkness. We may have been trapped, but we weren't defeated. Not yet.

Through it all, Kass said nothing. She sat off to the side, silent and brooding, her jaw tight and her arms crossed. Her disapproval was palpable, but I didn’t press her. We couldn’t afford to wait for her blessing.

"We leave at dawn," I said, scanning the group. "Get some rest and be ready."

As the others began to disperse, Finn buzzing with excitement and Erin muttering about the recklessness of it all, I caught Kilian’s eye. He gave me a small nod, his confidence a steadying force. Together, we might just pull this off.