FORGED BONDS IN FIRE
The group moved through a dense forest that seemed to stretch on endlessly. The foliage, so thick that it barely allowed sunlight to pass through, created an oppressive atmosphere. Caelithra walked at the front with precise, alert movements. Karion was right behind her, talking nonstop to Zyrion, who was clearly trying not to lose his patience. Kyrahna, silent, observed everything from the rear, assessing the newcomers.
"So, Zyrion," Karion said with a grin as he hopped over a root. "Where’d you get that sword? It has a… how should I say it… mystical vibe. Is it magical? Do you talk to it at night? Sing it songs?"
Zyrion let out a deep sigh. "No, I don’t sing to it. It's just a sword, and it's useful for keeping loudmouth idiots alive.”
Karion put a hand on his chest, pretending to be offended. "How cruel! And here I thought we were becoming friends."
"If that’s what you need to shut up, then yes, we’re friends," Zyrion replied sarcastically.
Karion laughed. “I like you, friend. You’ve got that dry humor that perfectly complements my radiant personality.”
"Radiant like a dead campfire," Kyrahna muttered from behind, making Zyrion hold back a smile.
Caelithra abruptly stopped and raised her hand, signaling for silence. Everyone halted, although Karion kept moving his lips as if talking in his mind. The silver-haired warrior looked toward the horizon, her sharp eyes searching for something among the trees.
“What do you see?” Zyrion asked, instantly alert.
“Movement,” Caelithra whispered. “We’re not alone.”
Karion, who had somehow already drawn his daggers without anyone noticing, leaned toward Zyrion. “Think they’ll be friendly? Or the type that tries to eat you first and ask questions after?”
“If it’s you, they’ll want to eat you just to shut you up,” Zyrion snapped back.
Before Karion could reply, a group of figures emerged from between the trees. Five of them, all wearing black armor and carrying brutal-looking weapons. One of them, a tall man with a scar running across his face, stepped forward.
“Well, well… what do we have here?” he growled. “Lost travelers, I imagine. This forest isn't a place for the weak.”
Zyrion stepped forward, raising his sword. “And it’s not a place for those looking for trouble. Let us through, and there won’t be blood.”
The man laughed mockingly. “You think you can intimidate me with a simple sword? This forest is our territory. If you want to pass, you’ll have to pay the price.”
“The price?” Karion asked, pretending to be interested. “Gold? Funny stories? A good joke? Because I’m an expert at those.”
The man stared at him incredulously before lifting his mace. “Your quick tongue won’t save you here, clown.”
Caelithra stepped forward, standing at Zyrion’s side. Her halberd glowed with a faint light. “We don’t have time for this. If you try to stop us, it will be the last thing you do.”
Meanwhile, Kyrahna quietly moved toward the trees, seeking a strategic position.
The scarred man snarled. “Fine then. Let’s test your worth. Attack!”
The mercenaries charged, unleashing a chaotic battle. Zyrion blocked the first strike with his sword and countered with a speed that caught his opponent off guard. Karion, moving with agile swiftness, dodged an attack and threw a dagger that lodged into his enemy’s arm.
“See? I told you—I’m a moving piece of art!” Karion shouted as he disarmed another enemy with an elegant spin.
Caelithra was a whirlwind of precision. Her halberd sliced with lethal grace, taking down two mercenaries in seconds. Her expression didn’t show a hint of emotion—it was as if she were completing a routine task.
Zyrion turned to cover Kyrahna, who emerged from the shadows and released an arrow that pierced the mercenary leader’s shoulder. He roared in pain and lunged toward her, but Zyrion blocked his path.
“If you think I’m going to let you touch her, you’re even crazier than you look,” Zyrion said before striking hard enough to force the man back.
Karion appeared at his side. “Need help? Because I can make this much more dramatic.”
“No, thanks,” Zyrion said, still fighting. “Just keep the others busy.”
Finally, only the leader remained standing. Wounded and panting, he looked around and realized he had no chance.
“This isn’t over!” he shouted before fleeing into the trees.
“Yeah, sure,” Karion said, wiping sweat from his forehead. “They all say that, but they never come back.”
Caelithra put away her halberd and looked at Zyrion. “Are you all alright?”
“We’re fine,” Zyrion replied, though visibly exhausted. “Thanks for stepping in.”
“Stepping in was the only logical option,” Caelithra said. “Though I don’t trust your ability to lead. You need improvement.”
“Thanks for the advice,” Zyrion muttered, annoyed. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
Karion walked over, placing a hand on Zyrion’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, friend. We all have bad days. Well, except for me, because I’m perfect.”
“Perfect at being annoying,” Kyrahna said dryly.
The group continued on, more alert than before. Though tensions were palpable, an odd sense of camaraderie had begun to form between them. The battle had tested not only their skills, but also their ability to work together—however improvised it might have been.
“What now?” Karion asked, breaking the silence. “Another suicidal mission? Or maybe a snack break? Because I’m starving.”
“We move forward,” Zyrion said. “The next fragment won’t find itself.”
Caelithra nodded. “But we must tread carefully. Every step brings us closer to danger.”
Karion sighed dramatically. “Careful… where’s the fun in that?”
A slight smile tugged at Zyrion’s lips. “The fun is in making it to the end alive.”
As the forest slowly opened into clearer terrain, the group knew this was only the beginning. The challenges ahead were growing more deadly, but with each battle, the bonds between them strengthened. Though none would admit it aloud, they were beginning to trust one another—and that could be the difference between life and death.
They reached a small clearing where a gentle stream flowed between moss-covered rocks. Zyrion stopped and signaled the others to halt. Even though they’d left the mercenaries behind, they all knew they couldn’t drop their guard.
“We’ll rest here for a moment,” Zyrion said, setting his sword down and kneeling to fill his canteen.
Karion let out an exaggerated sigh and dropped dramatically onto the grass. “Finally, some peace. I was starting to think we’d spend the whole day running or fighting.”
“It would be wiser to use this time to sharpen your weapons instead of complaining,” Caelithra said coldly as she examined her halberd with meticulous precision.
“Sharpen my weapons?” Karion looked at her as if she’d suggested climbing a mountain with one hand tied behind his back. “My daggers are perfectly balanced. Besides, who has time for that when there are jokes to make and songs to invent?”
“Your carelessness is dangerous,” Caelithra replied flatly. “It’s only a matter of time before it costs you your life.”
Karion placed a hand on his chest dramatically. “Cruel! And here I thought we were getting along.”
Zyrion, who had been silently watching the exchange, stepped in. “Karion, stop provoking her. Caelithra, let him be. If he doesn’t want to take this seriously, it’ll be his own problem when he’s in danger.”
“Thank you, Zyrion,” Karion said with a triumphant smile. “I knew someone here understood my brilliance.”
“Don’t get it twisted,” Zyrion said without looking up. “If your recklessness puts anyone else in danger, I’ll be the first to leave you behind.”
Karion straightened up, his smile fading for a moment. “Understood,” he said quietly—though he couldn’t resist adding with a smirk, “But don’t worry, my ‘recklessness’ tends to save lives, not endanger them.”
Kyrahna, who had been checking her quiver, looked up with a faint smile. “Honestly, his jokes aren’t that bad. A little humor wouldn’t hurt us.”
“Thank you, Kyrahna!” Karion exclaimed, pointing at her as if he’d won a prize. “Finally someone with good taste in this group!”
Caelithra simply rolled her eyes and returned to her weapon.
After a few moments, Zyrion stood and scanned the horizon. “We have to keep moving. This clearing is too open. If those mercenaries come back, we’ll be at a disadvantage.”
They all nodded, though Karion sighed. “Goodbye, sweet moment of rest. I will miss you dearly.”
The group moved on, leaving the clearing behind and stepping once more into the forest. The silence returned, broken only by the crunch of branches beneath their feet and the occasional bird song.
But not long after, something strange began to happen. The temperature dropped abruptly, and a thick mist formed, crawling across the ground and limiting their visibility.
“This isn’t natural,” Kyrahna said cautiously. “Do you feel that?”
“Yes,” Zyrion said, drawing his sword. “Prepare yourselves. This is no coincidence.”
Before anyone could reply, a figure emerged from the mist. Tall, cloaked in darkness that seemed to move like living shadows. Its glowing, icy blue eyes fixed on the group.
“Welcome, travelers,” the figure said with a deep, resonant voice. “You have entered my domain, and no one crosses without my permission.”
“Another ‘forest owner’?” Karion muttered. “What’s with these guys? Do they divide the woods like farmland?”
Zyrion ignored him and stepped forward. “We don’t want trouble. We’re just passing through. Let us go, and there won’t be conflict.”
The figure let out a chilling laugh that echoed in the fog. “Free passage? How naïve. If you wish to cross, you must prove your worth.”
Caelithra stepped forward with her usual seriousness. “Who are you? And what interest do you have in us?”
“I am Therion, guardian of this forest,” the figure answered. “And my interest lies in what you carry. I can feel the power of the fragments within you. You are a threat to the balance, and I cannot allow you to continue.”
“Well, things just got interesting,” Karion said, drawing his daggers again. “Anyone else getting déjà vu, or is it just me?”
Zyrion raised his sword, prepared for battle. “If you think you can stop us, go ahead and try. But I warn you—we won’t fall without a fight.”
Therion lifted a hand, and from the mist emerged figures made of ice, their bodies shining with an eerie blue glow. The ice guardians advanced toward the group, ready to strike.
“This is going to be fun,” Karion said with a grin, taking a defensive stance.
“It’s time to show what we’re made of,” Zyrion added, looking at his companions. “Fight together. We won’t be stopped here.”
The group braced themselves, knowing this battle would be unlike the ones before. Therion and his ice guardians weren’t simple mercenaries—they were something far more dangerous. And this challenge would test not only their skill, but their determination to keep moving forward.
TO BE CONTINUED…