No!
Something snaps in my head. Instinct, raw and primal, surges through me, shattering the ice of my fear. A roar tears from my throat, a sound I barely recognize as my own, as I launch myself at the creature, daggers drawn.
I manage to bury my blade in its flank with all the strength left in my body. The beast bucks with a deafening roar of pain and rage. Its eyes, burning with hatred, swing to me.
For one terrifying instant, I am the sole focus of its attention. But thatinstant is all Darian needs. With a guttural cry, he drives his sword not just into its neck butthroughit.
The monster shudders with a colossal tremor and then… stillness. The mortal danger, so overwhelming just moments before, vanishes, leaving behind a ringing silence and the pounding of my own heart.
Exhausted, hungry, and shaking, I crumple to the ground, drenched in sweat. The only sounds are my own heavy breathing and the wind’s mournful howl. Darian checks the creature, making sure it’s really dead, before turning to me.
“Are you hurt?” He kneels in front of me and holds my arms.
I shake my head, but before I can say anything, as if the gods could not grow more hostile, the heavens open, unleashing a torrent of rain on our heads. It’s instant and merciless, and in only a few moments, it changes the earth into a dangerous mire.
Drenched by the rainstorm, Darian helps me up, and we run to the hut for cover. The cottage is a single room: a bed, a chest, a table, and a hearth. I shake like a leaf, and my body shrieks to flee this hideout. “We can’t stay here. We’re running out of time.”
Darian holds me in place. “Going out there now is to court death. We can’t see a thing, and the ground’s a slippery mess. One wrong step, and we’ll fall to the bottom of the mountain.”
Even though I know he is right, I growl in frustration. “Time slips through our fingers, Darian! We don’t have enough time to return as is,” I shout, but my struggles against his strong hold are feeble attempts.
Is it fear, exhaustion, or hunger that pushes me to the edge? I can’t tell anymore. The terror that’s been clawing at my sanity through the night finally decides to tighten its grip.
My heart is beating wildly. I squeeze my eyes shut against the walls closing in when I feel a warm shield enveloping me. Darian’s arms fold around me, pressing me against him, and his touch is soft and caressing, cutting through the fog. He speaks softly into my ear, “It’s all right, Arien. It will all be alright. I’m here.”
The rhythm of Darian’s heart against my chest serves as a groundingcadence. His warmth washes over me in gentle waves. In just a few moments, the room begins to expand, and the walls seem to recede. The air rushes into my lungs as I start to breathe more slowly. My heart steadies, and gradually, the panic begins to fade away.
Darian holds me tight. His warmth is comforting against the storm raging inside me. His voice is a low rumble against my ear. “We’ll weather this storm, and when it’s passed, we’ll keep going. I promise.”
Only when I finally stop shaking does he gently break the embrace. “Let me get a fire going. Your body is freezing cold.”
He sits me in front of the hearth, then reduces an old, sturdy chair to firewood with a few well-aimed kicks. It’s not long before he’s gotten a sizable fire roaring. Uncovering a thick woolen blanket from the bed, he wraps it around me and moves me closer to the growing fire.
He finds two wrinkled apples and a dusty but sealed bottle of wine in the closet beside the stove, brings them to me, and places them within reach.
“Eat the apple and drink some wine. It’ll warm you up. You should then rest, Arien.” His voice is filled with concern.
I shake my head, my jaw clenched so tight it aches. “I can’t sleep, Darian. We need to leave as soon as the rain stops.”
Darian takes a deep breath, visibly making an effort to remain patient. “You won’t be able to walk if you don’t rest first.”
Refusing to meet his gaze, I wrap my arms around myself in a futile attempt to ward off the inner chill. “I’ll be fine. We can’t waste any more time.”
“To reach Jahanwatch, we need clarity of mind,” he speaks softly, and his voice is a calming counterpoint to my irrationality and agitation. He reaches out and gently touches my arm. “Rest is not a weakness. It’s a tool of survival.”
My gaze finally snaps up to meet his. “You haven’t slept either.”
“I’m used to this. In Izadeon, chasing monsters means ditching shut-eye for days on end. And I slept the first night from sunset to dawn, remember? I know you didn’t even blink while I was unconscious. Just have two hours of sleep, and by then, the rain will end, and we can leave.”
We eat the apples in silence. The wine, when opened, warms my insides as I drink it. As we share the bottle in turns, we don’t speak. I stare at the fire, my thoughts consumed by the storm and the uncertainty of the morrow. Even though my eyelids grow heavy, eager to surrender to the pull of sleep, the weight of our situation keeps me anchored to the present.
“What now?” I ask with a low voice, almost to myself. When Darian stays quiet, I continue, “If there is no village, and we cannot secure horses by the morning, our fate is sealed.”
“There must be a settlement nearby if there is a cottage here. Hope is not yet lost. You just have to rest, and we will leave to find the village when the rain is lighter.” His voice is warm, reassuring.
“The storm can rage forever, and we don’t know which direction leads to the village.”
Darian draws me closer. “I’m an Izadeonian. A man from the mountains, remember? I can find the village. We will find the way. I promise,” he murmurs in my ear, his hand resting on my back in a comforting gesture.
