Ryan quickly peeked over the side of the boulder they were hiding behind, what he saw was 10s of elves rushing up the trail they had just ran up. All of the elves wore the same uniform, a purple deer head on a black shield encrusted onto silver armour. Suddenly an Elf spotted Ryan peeking out at them and quickly pointed toward him, following which, multiple elves raised their crossbows, Ryan hurridely hid back behind the boulder. A crossbow arrow slammed into the granite boulder they were hiding behind and a couple more flew right past the boulder, where Ryan's head was moments ago.
Eleanor scanned their surroundings frantically, her eyes sharp and searching for anything that could help. "Ryan, look!" she said urgently, pointing to a narrow crevice in the mountain wall only a small distance away, barely wide enough for one person to squeeze through at a time. "That might be our only chance!"
Ryan followed her gaze, his heart pounding. "You're right. Let's go on three! Are you ready?" Eleanor nodded her head and braced herself, "One, two, THREE!"
Dirt and pebbles flew into the air as they both dashed frantically for the crevice, scrambling over the rocky terrain, crossbow bolt after crossbow bolt ricochet off of the stone ground behind them, creating ear-piercing screeching noises urging them to go faster. Ryan reached the crevice first and hurriedly squeezed inside, after which he quickly turned back to help Eleanor.
Eleanor's fingers grazed the edge of the crevice when a sudden impact jolted her. A crossbow arrow pierced her shoulder, and she gasped in agony, staggering forward.
"Eleanor!" Ryan's voice cracked with urgency. He lunged toward her, gripping her arm tightly, and together they tumbled into the narrow crevice.
"I'm okay," Eleanor gasped, clutching her bleeding shoulder. "It isn't too bad, just keep moving!"
Ryan helped Eleanor deeper into the crevice, the soldiers' shouts echoing ominously behind them. They crawled through the narrow passage, each step taking them further from their pursuers and closer to an uncertain destination, the deeper they crawled into the crevice, the greater the enterance became, but the darker it did too.
Emerging on the other side, Ryan and Eleanor stumbled into a narrow tunnel, only barely illuminated by the light of the crevice. The weight of their narrow escape pressed heavily on them, but they knew they couldn't afford to stop. As Ryan turned to look back at the crevice and check if there was anyone close behind, a hand grabbed Ryan and pulled him deeper into the tunnel.
"GET OFF!" Ryan screamed before quickly shouting "Lux!"
A bright light illuminated their attacker's face. Sunken eyes cowering from the light, a dirt-smothered neck, and a pointed nose were the most obvious features, those, and how he was a human.
Eleanor barely stopped herself from casting a fireball into the attackers face, only halting when she realised it was a human.
"Be quiet," whispered the human who had now recovered from the sudden burst of light.
The human reached out and grabbed Eleanor's hand too, and quickly guided them through the ever darkening tunnels.
The light of Ryan's spell began to completely dissapear as his mind reeled from their close call.
"Who... who are you?" Ryan finally managed to choke out, his voice barely above a whisper.
The man glanced back, his sunken eyes glinting in the dim light. "Someone who doesn't want to see any more humans fall to those bastards. Now quiet, they will be searching for us."
As if on cue, distant shouts echoed through the tunnel behind them.
The tunnel began to slope downward, the air growing cooler and damper. Ryan stumbled, his foot splashing in an unseen puddle. He instinctively whispered, "Lux," but the stranger's hand clamped over his mouth, breaking his concentration before it could form.
"No magic," the man hissed. "They have ways of tracking it."
Ryan nodded, forcing down the rising panic in his chest. He reached back to grasp Eleanor's hand, reassuring him that she was still there.
The stranger led Ryan and Eleanor through a labyrinthine network of tunnels, each turn taking them to two or three more different passages. Ryan's mind raced with questions, but he dared not speak. The man seemed to know the tunnels well, navigating with confidence despite the complete darkness that surrounded them.
After what felt like an eternity of silent, tense progress, they finally reached a small chamber which had a single small crystal that gave off a small amount of light. The stranger released them both and gestured for them to sit against the cool stone wall. Eleanor slumped down as she examined her shoulder in the dim light.
"We should be safe here for now," the stranger said quietly, his voice hoarse and weary. Ryan looked up, able to see the man's face slightly better in the dim light. He appeared weathered and worn, with traces of old scars and a determination that mirrored Ryan's own resolved expression.
"What do we do now?" Ryan asked, his voice barely a whisper, afraid that speaking too loudly might bring their pursuers down upon them.
The man hesitated, as if weighing his words carefully. "We wait for a few hours," he replied finally. "They should give up soon."
Ryan thought to himself for a second before asking, "Do you know who we are?"
The human tilted his head as he gazed deeply at Ryan.
"We're heroes" Ryan said.
"Ah, well, that explains why those elves dared to go near, and even enter the mountains!" said the human.
Wow, he really doesn't care that we're heroes… I guess to some people it's not that surprising? Ryan pondered.
"It seems we may have to wait here for a little longer, reinforcements should arrive soon though! Elves in our mountain is a pretty unwelcome thing." The human said in a weirdly cheerful mood, betraying his scars and sunken face.
Ryan gazed up at the roof of the room, unable to shake the feeling that they hadn't escaped disaster just yet. He glanced at Eleanor, who had removed the arrow and was tearing a strip of cloth from her shirt to bandage her wound.
Ryan found himself drifting in and out of a fitful sleep, haunted by nightmares of crossbolts and Eleanor's pained cry. Each time he woke, the stranger was there, keeping watch with an intensity that spoke of a life spent in hiding and survival.