The tunnels still echoed with the ghost of battle.Every drop of water hitting the stone sounded like it could belong to someone following.
Aros ran without stopping. The air was heavy and damp, thick enough to drink, his boots splashing through shallow puddles as the tunnels curved toward the river. He held Gemma against his chest. Her skin was cold, her breathing shallow, her pulse faint but present.
Please be all right, he thought. Please…
The faint roar of the underground river grew louder with every step. When he finally saw the sliver of light ahead, a break in the rock where the tunnel opened to the outside, he almost didn't trust it. The world beyond was black and formless, the night stretched so far that even the water seemed afraid to move.
He ran for another half hour, though his body screamed to stop. His shoulder ached from carrying her, and his throat burned from breathing the wet air. When he finally lifted his eyes again, something glowed in the distance, orange and low, pulsing against the dark.
A fire.
Aros slowed, unsheathing his dagger. He approached carefully, each step measured. The smell of smoke reached him before the light did, followed by the low murmur of voices. He crouched at the edge of a clearing by the riverbank. Around a small fire sat Broko, Candriela, Renn, and a young woman he didn't recognize. Their shadows leaned and swayed against the cavern walls.
He stepped forward. "What are you doing here?" his voice came out harsher than intended. "You should be running."
Broko turned toward him, his expression carved from exhaustion. "We have been running. Since we left the city, nothing's followed us. The guards stopped at the walls."
Aros ignored the answer and knelt, lowering Gemma onto a patch of dry ground. Her face looked almost translucent in the firelight.
Candriela moved immediately beside her. "What happened?"
"She used it," Aros said quietly. "The power. But this time it… consumed everything around her. The soldiers, the hollows...all of them dropped."
Candriela's eyes flickered. "Then it's the peak."
Aros frowned. "The what?"
"The body's limit. The point where she releases everything she's absorbed. It burns her out, but it keeps her alive."
He didn't like the sound of that. "Keeps her alive?"
Candriela met his gaze evenly. "She's survived it before."
The woman he didn't know was trembling beside the fire. She clutched a damp blanket around her shoulders. "I saw you," she whispered. "Back in the tunnels. You were carrying her."
Aros turned toward her. "Who are you?"
"Sandra. I...I was one of the civilians that made it out."
Broko exhaled through his nose. "One more than I expected."
Aros looked around, no other faces, no trace of the others.
"They knew we were coming,"
Broko stared at him. "What?"
"The Priesthood. They sealed the streets before we reached the square. The patrols moved too fast. Someone told them."
Broko's tone hardened. "You're saying there's a traitor?"
"I'm saying they were waiting for us," Aros replied. "And only one man got out before anything happened"
Candriela stood. "You think it was Alexander of Dromo"
Aros didn't hesitate. "Who else?"
Broko let out a humorless laugh. "Why the hell would he betray us? He's lost everything: title, land, name. You think he'd help the people who took it from him?"
Aros looked toward the river, where the current caught faint shards of moonlight. "I think he learned the same lesson we all did: survival costs loyalty."
No one answered. For a moment, all that existed was the hiss of the fire and the soft lap of the water against stone.
Finally Broko broke the silence. "And the others?"
Aros voice dropped. "Diana's gone."
Broko's jaw clenched. "Gone? How do you know? Did you leave her?"
Aros looked at him sharply, then away. "I was carrying Gemma. If I'd stopped, we'd all be dead."
The words hung there like a weight no one wanted to touch. Broko turned his back to him, muttering a curse under his breath.
Candriela adjusted Gemma's cloak gently. "Then it's just us now."
"At least here, yes" Aros said.
The young woman, Sandra, flinched at a distant sound, a wave breaking somewhere beyond the tunnel mouth. "Do you think they'll follow?"
"Not tonight," Broko said. "They'll regroup at dawn. We move before that."
Aros nodded. "Where to?"
"I know a way back to Skariz," Broko said. "Two days through the marshlands. Hard terrain, but safer than the main roads. If we move fast enough, we can reach Talon before he marches on Bondrea."
Aros looked back at Gemma. Her lips moved faintly, though no sound came out. He couldn't tell if she was dreaming or remembering.
He turned to the others. "Rest for two hours. Then we move."
Broko grunted in approval. Renn threw a few last scraps of wood into the fire. Candriela sat silently, eyes fixed on the girl.
The flames burned low, reflecting on the river's dark surface like veins of dying light.
And for a long time, none of them spoke.
The fire had burned down to little more than embers.Renn was asleep sitting up, his back against a rock. Broko muttered something in his sleep that sounded like a curse. Only Aros stayed awake, his hands resting on his knees, eyes fixed on the slow movement of the river.
The water looked almost alive, black with streaks of silver light crawling beneath the surface, like something breathing below.
He didn't realize Gemma had stirred until she spoke."Aros?"
Her voice was hoarse, almost childlike. She tried to sit up but her body refused.
Aros was by her side in an instant. "Easy. You're safe."
Gemma's eyes darted toward him. "Where's Diana?"
Aros froze. He had hoped she wouldn't remember.
Gemma's breathing quickened. "She...she was there. I saw her fall."
"Gemma." Aros's tone was firm, quiet. "Listen to me."
Her gaze met his, sharp and trembling. "Tell me she's all right."
He wanted to. For her. For himself. But lies had already cost too much."She's gone," he said at last. "I'm sorry."
Gemma's lips parted, but no sound came out. For a moment, she just stared past him, as though trying to understand the words rather than believe them. Then her shoulders shook. A single tear traced down her cheek, carving a clean line through the dust on her face.
Aros hesitated before wiping it gently with his thumb. "I knew it. You're still you," he said quietly.
She blinked at him, confused.
"You hear the Light. You've seen what it can do. But you're still you. Don't let it take that from you."
Gemma nodded weakly, though it was clear she didn't understand, not yet.
Aros drew her closer and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She resisted for a moment, then leaned in, burying her face against his chest. Her breath was shallow and trembling, but real.
"I'll protect you," he whispered. "I promise."
Gemma didn't answer. Her fingers gripped the fabric of his coat, small and tense, as if clinging to the sound of his voice more than the words themselves.
Outside, the river kept moving, silent and endless, carrying the reflection of a world that no longer looked back.