Zeteria, Twelfth Domain, Tador Forest.

Shocked, Lara was still at the side of her friend Aydan when a hand grabbed her abruptly to pull her back to her feet.

“Let go of me!”

“Take care of her,” Commander Zain grunted, pushing her towards two soldiers coming in reinforcement.

The two men seized her. The young woman struggled in vain. One of the soldiers twisted her arms in her back while the other bound her wrists with a rope.

“Let's go back to the camp,” the Srax Commander ordered.

He picked up his white cloak striped with black and draped it on his wings, too easily noticeable, especially if other Phemacians came to inquire about the fate of their companion.

“What about the Mecen?” One of the soldiers dared to ask.

“If he isn’t dead yet, he will soon draw his last breath. Take the prisoner away.”

“As you command,” the soldier answered with a salute.

OoOoOO

Lara walked mechanically, one step after another. She was still aghast by the sudden attack and its brutal denouement. She couldn't believe it. Aydan, dead? His chest was still moving up and down before they dragged her. She knew he was still breathing. She wanted to cling to this tiny ray of hope… that her friend would survive against all odds.

But whether he was alive or not, with such a wound, she could only rely on herself to get out of her current predicament. The thought was terrifying. She had never found herself so alone. A first soldier led the way; another one was behind her. She could only guess the presence of the Commander in the rear. Where were they taking her?

The girl tried to free her wrists in vain. The knots were too tight. Despair invaded her. She resigned herself to being guided without resisting. They walked for a long time. The sun began to disappear behind the trees. The imperial soldiers did not speak; they seemed focused. The one in front of her was constantly scrutinizing the surroundings, his hand never straying too far away from his sword. It was as if he was looking for something. But what? She had no clue. Perhaps they had put markings on the way to not becoming lost in a country they weren’t familiar with.

Time was moving to the rhythm of the steps of her captors. Lara was thirsty but didn’t dare to complain. Her arms tied behind her back became painful, in addition to making her balance precarious on the uneven ground. She had already slipped many times, and only the soldier's grip’ had prevented her from falling to the ground. She was already imagining the hematoma that would appear tomorrow on her arm from the soldier's hard grip.

Fatigue overwhelmed the girl. She could not suppress a yawn while her silent guides were going deeper and deeper into the forest of Tador, following a route far from the paths she knew. She had tried to pay attention to the general direction they were taking. But with many turns and detours combined with the absence of the sun which hid behind a thick layer of clouds, she had no idea of where they were. Were they getting closer to the Door? The imperial soldiers normally never ventured far away from it. How could the Consul let all this happen? It was intolerable.

Zeteria was a rather peaceful Domain with a reduced army, especially compared to the ninth Domain Phemacia, or the fourth Jaborith. But still, the presence of imperial soldiers so close to the capital shouldn’t have gone unnoticed!

The orange sky was tinged with blue when she saw a row of wooden fences. A camp! The Imperial soldiers had built a camp in the middle of the Tador forest, without being noticed! Following her amazement, she suddenly stopped. A shove from one of her captors almost caused her to stumble. With no other choice, she resumed her walk. She realized the camp was bizarre when she saw two wooden huts that were juxtaposed with several impeccably aligned tents. Everything was designed for camouflage. A smoke-free fire was burning in the center of the barracks, and logs were piling up along the walls. The whole place was clean and orderly. Commander Zain maintained a strict and inflexible discipline.

Two soldiers were guarding the entrance, and she saw several others patrolling the surroundings as well as inside the camp itself. Her hopes of escape and being rescued were vanished. There weren’t any soldiers. All of them wore the stars of the Sraxs on their gray uniforms. Lara thought about the reason why the Empire would send her best warriors into this lost corner… The idea they were building an advanced base on Republic soil made her almost laugh before she realized that she may be onto something. She shuddered at the thought. It was a scary thought.

They finally stopped. The young woman’s legs were aching, and her throat was so dry that it made her breathing hoarse. Lara was pushed into one of the barracks. She stumbled before regaining her balance and avoiding planting her face on the ground. Her eyes took a few seconds to get used to the darkness. She was then able to distinguish several forms that became more precise; other people. She realized they were other prisoners.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

She clumsily sat on the ground. Everything turned out to be of much greater scope than she had originally thought. What was the purpose of kidnapping all these people?

No one tried to start a conversation with her. She wondered how long they had been waiting there. They appeared to have lost all hope. She counted about a dozen of them. It was difficult to get an exact number in the dark room.

Despite the precariousness of her situation, a part of her was relieved. it wasn’t specifically for her that the Empire had deployed its force here. Her secret was still safe. But for how long?

OoOoOo

“There he is!”

The two Phemacians had been flying over the forest of Tador for several hours, guided by their familiars. Finding someone in the dense mass of trees and thickets, even without leaves, was far from being an easy task.

The duo of Heralds landed carefully in a small clearing a few meters in diameter.

A bloody trace can be seen on the dead leaves that covered the place. They followed the trail, leading them to a young man sitting against the trunk of a tree. The latter opened his eyes as they rushed towards him.

“Aydan! How are you feeling?”

“Painfully alive,” the young man said with a hoarse voice.

His gray uniform was smeared with scarlet stains. The biggest stain was at the level of his stomach.

“Let us see,” Herald Kadir said.

He gently pulled aside his colleague's uniform.

The wound on his abdomen was the most worrying. But something was bothering Kadir. The cut was impressive, but ultimately shallow, having touched only the muscles and spared the organs. It was strangely too narrow for a blow of that size. Based on the wound, the blow should have crossed his body and forced him into a slow and certain agony. An important point escaped the Herald. Aydan was far too weak for the wound to only be a simple scratch. Looking at the ground, he had lost a fair amount of blood. Kadir doubted that Aydan would give him any explanation; the young man was far too secretive.

Kadir sighed. He hoped that one day the young man would finally open up and understand that the Mecens were a united group where trust was paramount.

The cut on his thigh was serious and also required stitches. Aydan was lucky that the artery was not affected.

“These injuries must be stitched. I will prepare a fire and clean the wound.”

“Alright.”

The Herald straightened up, and Abbas joined him. He had searched the corpses of the imperial scouts for clues on their presence in the heart of the forest of Tador, just a few hours from the capital of the Twelve Domains.

“Nothing conclusive,” he confessed. “Their uniforms rank them as scouts on a reconnaissance mission, but other than that…”

“They were not alone,” Aydan interrupted with difficulty. “Sraxs are here too.”

“Oh, that’s less common,” Kadir murmured. “With enough numbers to put you in this state? I thought you'd fair well against them.”

“They came after,” the young Herald continued. “The Commander was present. He is too strong for me.”

Abbas, who had come closer, let out a whistling sound.

“Red wings Zain?”

“In person.”

“You’re lucky to have survived. It’s weird he didn’t finish the job. The Commander isn’t known to be magnanimous.”

“I should have died,” Aydan admitted.

Kadir, who was cleaning the wound with a clean cloth, stopped for a moment.

“What do you mean by you should have?”

Aydan’s facial expression became grave. Herald Kadir almost cursed before resuming his task in silence. Abbas wasn’t so understanding. He crossed his arms, determined.

“You owe us an explanation, Aydan. My familiar definitely felt the distress of yours when it was contacted via the Wildlink. You were at the gates of death, a step away from entering the gardens of Elhain. Your injury is hardly more than a scratch, nothing that justifies such an emergency. By Elhain, Mecens are brothers! Can't you trust us?”

The Herald had spoken with his heart. Aydan could barely recognize the cynical and contemptuous Abbas who had granted him a duel two weeks before. Was Abbas finally opening up? Was he approaching the Third Circle, the Devotion? In contrast, was Aydan become even more closed off since he was promoted to Herald since he was bound to a phoenix?

Faced with his silence, Abbas turned around, angry. Aydan lowered his head. He disappointed them. And, he disappointed himself…

“Thank you for coming,” Aydan whispered. “Really… I would like to… But some secrets do not belong to me.”

Kadir interrupted his work and put a hand on his shoulder with a sincere smile.

“Don’t worry. I know it’s not easy for you. We will wait for the right time, won’t we Abbas?

The latter muttered a vague unintelligible answer.

“Thank you," Aydan replied, feeling much more grateful than he would have thought.