Unraveling
There was one time, back on Earth, when I came home from school with a cut on my arm. It wasn't even deep, but it was a cut nevertheless. When my parents saw it, they panicked, asking what had happened, fussing over me like it was something serious.
But it wasn't.
We'd been in class, they told us to pick partners for a simple spell fight. I was only five years of age. Of course I lost. Worse, I was careless enough to burn myself in the process.
But my parents, they didn't scold me, they didn't make me feel small. Instead, they actually smiled and told me they were proud that I could summon a fire at all. Even if small, one sharp enough to hurt me.
And the cut on my arm, they called it a battle wound. Proof that I was strong.
I miss them. More than I know how to say. There isn't much left to be happy about these days. I used to think that being a nobody was the worst thing that could happen, until I became somebody.
I looked down at my bloodied arm. Hours passed while we hid inside the half-hidden structure. It was too quiet. The kind of quiet that rings in your ears. The healing spell had taken the edge off my pain, at least.
Soren was already stretched out on the floor, half asleep. Corvessa sat nearby with her knees pulled up, her arms wrapped around them, and her head resting forward.
And Kumbuye…
I sighed, turning toward him. He was across the room, his head tilted back against the wall, with his eyes closed.
My stomach growled as I looked around.
Maybe no one spoke because we were all scared. I didn't want to be the one to get us killed. Funny, though. Everywhere was danger now. There wasn't a safe choice left.
"Well... we have to do something." Corvessa broke the silence, lifting her head from her arms.
No one answered. Just the sound of our breathing filling the space before she spoke again.
"At least we know where he is now, and…" She exhaled slowly. "…we can't stop here."
She was right. I knew it. Felt it sitting heavy in my chest. Still, I said nothing. Just stared ahead.
"Sundown is our best chance," she went on, quieter now. "They won't see us coming..."
I was drowning in so much self-pity that I zoned out everything else she was saying. The war already felt lost from our end. All the people I looked up to were restrained. The Ascend... the Bound... Doya...
There was no one to get help from. No direction. No clues. I held myself tighter as a tear slipped down from my eye. I didn't know how to be strong anymore.
So I cried.
The tears came without sound, just falling, one after the other. The last few days came crashing down all at once.
My eyes were open but I wasn't seeing anything.
I didn't even notice when Kumbuye moved. His arm wrapped around me and I sank into him. The muffled sobs came harder now. I couldn't hold anything together anymore.
Everyone expects me to be strong, but how can I be strong when everything keeps breaking me?
"We'll get through this…" he murmured against my ear.
The heat of Kumbuye's arm was the only thing keeping me anchored until my breathing finally steadied.
I pulled back. The cool air hit my damp cheeks like a wake-up call, and I wiped my face with the back of my hand until the tears were gone.
I took a deep breath, pushing my hair back, then looked at the others. They all looked away immediately. I hadn't even realized they were watching me while I broke.
My eyes landed on Corvessa.
I cleared my throat.
"Tell me again," I said. "The part about sundown."
Corvessa's gaze drifted to mine. There was no surprise in her expression, only this small, knowing smirk that tugged at the corner of her mouth.
She leaned in, followed by Kumbuye and Soren. She traced a rough circle on the stone floor with a dagger's point. "What we need right now is a distraction. They think the open ground is their protection, so we'll give them too much to look at." She glanced among us, then stabbed the center of the circle.
"I say we set a fire on this side." She drew a line just outside the circle. "From what we saw, there are about twenty of them. We don't know if they've added to their numbers yet, but we will use what we have to our advantage." She kept her focus steady.
"And this side..." she drew another line opposite the first, "...is where Dana comes in."
"I... I don't understand," I whispered, shaking my head.
"You see," she sighed, "the Forsaken believe we're still out here, and they will not relent until they find us. So this..." she tapped the line representing the fire, "...will lead half of them away from the circle. That increases our chances, but the thing is, we aren't going there to fight. We're there for Doya."
"Jephas will be watching Doya," I countered. "What happens to the other half of the Forsaken?"
"That's where Soren comes in." Corvessa's mouth twisted into a small smile. "After I set the fire and lure the first group away, the rest will be on high alert. Soren..." she looked at him sharply, "...will act as the ghost archer. A threat."
"What?" Soren blinked.
"We just need you to drop one or two of them. They won't know where the arrows are coming from, and it will send the remaining Forsaken into a panic."
"That would expose our cover," Kumbuye interjected, his brow furrowed.
"Exactly." Corvessa nodded. "That's exactly what we need. They will go full-on defense, focused so hard on the arrow that they'll forget the people they've restrained. They'll forget Doya."
"No. No, no, no," I said, shaking my head. "So many things could go wrong with this."
"If we do it right, we will succeed," she pressed, her voice dropping slightly.
"And if something goes wrong?" Soren asked.
Corvessa scoffed. "Then we die."
---
The sun dipped low, and darkness began to swallow what was left of the day. We went through the plan over and over again, repeating, checking, closing every gap we could think of.
Finally, we were ready.
"Remember," Corvessa whispered. "Wait for my signal. Then Soren. Only then do you move. Kumbuye will be your extra hand if you should experience any difficulty."
Difficulty.
I tightened my grip on my weapon. An attack felt more likely, but I didn't say it. We were as prepared as we could be. The rest… was left to fate. Or whatever gods was still listening.
"Meet back here once your part is done," Kumbuye added quickly. "Stay unseen. If you think you're being followed, change direction. Don't lead them here."
We all nodded.
Before leaving, I placing the urn beneath a stone.
"Can you walk?" I asked Soren, watching him lean on the stone wall.
"I can try." He shrugged.
We moved in silence as we left the half-collapsed structure. My stomach growled again. Gods… I was starving. They all glanced at me, but I kept my eyes forward.
Corvessa broke off first, turning down the path we'd agreed on, positioning herself for the strike.
As we pushed closer to the Forsaken camp, Soren peeled away too, limping badly, one step dragging behind the other, and slipping into a torn building where he'd summon his bow.
Kumbuye and I continued further, taking cover behind a scorched wall. From there, parts of the camp opened up to us.
A low campfire burned at the center, some Forsaken stood watch, pacing slow. Others sat around, eating like it was just another night. Off to one side, the remaining captives were herded together in a tight cluster. Two Forsaken stood over them, watching. I scanned the group again, but Jephas was not in sight.
We waited a few minutes before we saw the first strike. It lit up the far end of the camp — large, violent, and impossible to ignore. I just hoped it wouldn't pull out every other Forsaken that might have camped in other districts.
"Fire!" a voice screamed from within the camp.
In an instant, nearly a dozen Forsaken broke away, sprinting toward the blaze. Their shouts drowned in the crackle of burning wood.
Exactly as Corvessa said. Draw them out. Thin them down. Open the gap.
I turned slightly, searching for Soren's signal—
Then I saw movement behind the fleeing group.
More Forsaken spilling out of a ruined building.
My breath caught.
No.
No… no, no.
There were far more than twenty.
One of them started pulling the captives up, herding them toward the ruined building.
"No." I whispered, already shifting forward.
Kumbuye's hand shot out and stopped me.
"Wait for the signal," he growled.
I froze.
My breathing went hard and uneven as I watched.
An arrow cut through the air.
It struck the Forsaken dragging the captives and he dropped instantly.
A shout rose in a language I didn't understand, and they began to arm themselves.
Another stepped in to take his place, reaching for the captives, then another arrow hit him too.
They started scanning the dark frantically, trying to locate where the shots were coming from.
That was our cue.
I moved, slipping around the corner while their attention scattered. The captives were already being pushed into the building.
Soren kept firing from above, each arrow pulling more of them away from us, thinning their focus, though there were far more than we expected. Almost double.
Maybe more.
As we approached the building, staying tight to the shadows of the wall, one Forsaken spotted us.
I reacted fast.
My power surged, cutting his breath off before he could make a sound. He dropped to the floor, choked out.
We slipped through a broken section of the wall and into the building.
Inside, it was emptier than expected. Most of the Forsaken had already moved out, drawn into the fight, leaving the place exposed and unguarded in the rush to respond.
We moved quickly, staying low.
The air inside was thick and smelling of sweat.
From deeper inside the building, a low voice barked something, and we followed it. Dim torches flickered ahead as we moved.
We turned a corner slowly, still keeping to the walls.
And there they were.
The captives.
Huddled in a tighter room, shoved against the wall like storage. They were tied up and gagged. Doya and Giselle were there too.
My chest loosened slightly at the sight of him.
Five Forsaken stood over them.
Only five.
We could take them.
I glanced at Kumbuye, and just as if he read my mind, he went in hard on them.
He drew his two daggers out.
The first Forsaken barely turned before Kumbuye was on him, stabbing into his neck. Blood spilled out, splashing across Kumbuye's face. The man dropped, choking on it.
The second tried to react. But before he could properly raise his weapon, my sword came up and met him halfway. The impact jolted up my arm. He pushed harder, trying to overpower me. I twisted inside his reach and drove a dagger from my waist into his side.
He stumbled back, clutching at the wound — staring at the blood on his hands — then came at me again.
Another Forsaken rushed in from behind.
I didn't even turn.
My power surged, throwing him back across the room. He hit the brick wall hard and collapsed.
I turned back to the man in front of me.
He was still coming.
I pivoted, slashing his arm first, breaking his grip, then stepped in and drove my dagger in close. No room left for struggle.
Four of them were down.
A sharp crack echoed behind me.
Kumbuye snapped the last man's neck.
Silence followed right after with heavy breathing.
Then I turned to Doya.
The weight on my chest eased so fast with relief.
We made it.
We actually made it.
My fingers moved before my thoughts caught up. I crossed the space quickly, dropping beside him and pulling the gag from his mouth first.
"Dana." he whispered, a faint smile breaking through.
My heart fell hearing his sweet voice. I reached for the ropes binding him and cut them loose.
Behind me, Kumbuye was already moving too, freeing the others.
Doya came off the ropes and tried to stand quickly, but his body gave out halfway, collapsing forward before I caught him on instinct.
I adjusted my grip, pulling him closer so he could lean on me instead of fighting his own strength.
"Easy," I muttered. "Don't rush."
He nodded, still breathing hard, like every breath was something he had to win back.
We moved slowly, retracing our steps through the same path we came in.
Every few steps Doya took pulled me back. His weight shifted too much into me, and I tightened my grip each time to hold him steady.
Kumbuye moved ahead of us with the others, checking corners before we reached them.
Doya stumbled again. His knees nearly went out completely this time.
I caught him, holding him tighter. "Stay with me," I whispered.
We made it out of the building, slipping past broken corners and putting distance between us and the Forsaken camp until we reached our meeting point.
Kumbuye ushered the captives inside.
Once we were further in — hidden from the entrance — I lowered Doya down.
"Doya…" I whispered. "Hey. Look at me."
His head lifted slightly. His eyes tried to focus, but they kept slipping.
"I'm fine," he muttered immediately.
I adjusted my hold on him, keeping him upright. "You're not fine."
He let out an uneven breath that broke into a faint laugh.
"I didn't think I'd make it this far," he said.
"What is wrong?" I asked him.
His fingers curled slightly against my sleeve.
"—the urn," he said, straining. "I need it."
I blinked. "What?"
"The urn," he repeated. "It keeps me stable."
My chest tightened. "I don't understand."
His body started trembling. Like a chill had sunk into his bones. His teeth pressed together. His hands were cold.
"Doya…" I whispered, holding them tighter.
"I'm… fraying," he said, the word breaking on the way out.
"What?"
His grip on me tightened again.
My heart dropped.
"What did they do to you?" I forced out.
"Not them…" he hitched. "Since they took me... I've been holding it together, but it's not… I'm not stable."
"Doya—"
"I need the urn," he cut in, more urgent now, even as his voice weakened. "It's the only thing keeping me from—"
He stopped.
His body jerked, like something inside him pulled too hard. His hand slipped from mine but I caught it back.
I froze.
Then everything snapped back.
"I—I have it. I have it," I said quickly, pushing to my feet.
I rushed to the stone I'd hidden it under, dragging it aside and pulling the urn free.
Then I turned and hurried back to him.
"Here."
He took it immediately, turning the lid open.
I watched him breathe again. Watched the tremble leave him in pieces but I didn't feel any better.
I was actually scared. My heart was racing frantically.
What did he mean he was fraying?