Through the dense leaves, she watched the soldiers roll out bedding and then settle into sleep.Her sharp eyes found the large, barred cart in the center of the camp, its metal grates enclosing two prone figures.In the fading light, she couldn’t make out their sex or age, but her second sight revealed faint blue and red auras.Her sorrow over their captivity grew unbearable.
Miguel’s charges would obliterate this camp, leaving no chance for the two prisoners in the cart.The thought filled her with urgency.Pressing her fists into the earth, she used her will to spread the shadow net across the camp, its threads unfurling like mist over the sleeping regiment.She dragged a hand over the ground, summoning shades from the edges of the net.Their forms rose like dark specters, their presence a silent promise of protection.
A nightingale’s call echoed in the distance: Irik.The response came: Fael.Ren’wyn felt the approach of her companions through her second sight, only for them to stop as they reached the wall of shades.The shades, loyal to her will, would not allow them to pass.What must they feel—confusion, frustration?She forced those worries from her mind and stood, pushing back the shrubs to step into theopen.
In the Dark Forest, the curse of the dark mage had made her long to sleep, to surrender to death’s embrace.If she could mimic that magic here, she could immobilize the soldiers.Reaching deep into her spirit, Ren’wyn searched for the knowledge, her instincts guiding her hands.Sweeping her fingers across the strands of her shadow net, she twisted them together and rubbed her left hand over her right.Black ash drifted from the threads, falling like snow over thecamp.
The sentries’ heads dipped, their bodies slackening as the ash settled over them.Ren’wyn stepped into the clearing, shadows twisting around her ankles while the dark, haunted figures of the shades prowled the edges of the camp.The net parted for her, recognizing its master.Ash swirled harmlessly away from her boots with each step, but anxiety gnawed at her.The magic wouldn’t harm her, but she couldn’t be certain of its effect on her friends.Pouring her tension into strengthening the shades, she fortified their silent vigil around thecamp.
As she moved through the silent clearing, she plucked a set of keys from a sleeping sentry.A fine coating of ash covered him, and she unhooked the keys gingerly, her fingertips leaving faint prints in the residue.
Ren’wyn approached the barred cart, a sour wave of decay and burned flesh assaulting her nose.She gagged, turning her head against the cloying, putrid scent.Even with her focus on the cart, she could sense Irik, Leta, and Miguel lingering at the northern border of the camp, held back by the shades.Their fear vibrated through her senses, and she understood it.The shades flickered and shifted, a dark, impenetrable wall that separated her companions from the camp.Fael appeared at the western edge, his figure stark against the restless shadows.
None of their plans had accounted for this.The raid was meant to be swift, clean, and simple—just robbing and retreating.Saving the captives would require something far more dangerous.Ren’wyn needed time to examine the prisoners, to understand what she was dealing with.Letting the others into the camp too soon could disrupt everything, and the chaos could cost them all their lives.
At the edge of the clearing, Fael pushed against the wall of shades.His voice rose in frustration, but the ash blanketing the camp muffled all sound.Only through her second sight could Ren’wynfeelhis yelling.His sword was drawn, glowing faintly in the darkness as heat and waves of red light radiated from him.His angry power crashed against the shades like a battering ram—oppressive andhot.
Her spine stiffened under the force of his fury.The heat of his berserker power burned against the shadows of the dead, and her magic trembled in response, buckling under the onslaught.
“Let me in, Ren’wyn!”he screamed, his voice raw with panic.“What the hell do you think you’re doing?Don’t keep meout!”
Ren’wyn gritted her teeth and reinforced the barrier of shades, holding firm against the onslaught of his magic.Her power trickled away with each passing moment, but she heldfast.
Her fingers finally brushed the cold iron bars of the cart, and her stomach turned violently as she peered inside.
Two children.No older than seven or eight.
She doubled over, emptying her stomach into the ash, grief and disgust squeezing her organs.
The two boys were curled tightly together, their small bodies battered and burned.A long gash marred the berserker child’s thigh, angry and oozing with infection.The sickly-sweet stench of decay and charred flesh hit her like a wave, making her gag again.Both boys were shirtless, stripped down to their undershorts in the cool night air, their frail forms bearing evidence of cruel beatings.
The soldiers had drugged them—children—with magic in their veins.Drugged and brutalized them because they were different.
She clenched her fists around the strands of shadow she still held, keeping the soldiers asleep.
Ash fell faster under her tight grip, already half an inch deep on the sleeping forms.The shades at the edge howled as the net rippled with her emotion.Fael slammed his sword against the shades, his desperation cresting like waves along the barrier.
“What the hell?Ren’wyn!Let me in!Don’t do this alone!Fuck,stop.Stopnow!”
The cart’s lock clunked as Ren’wyn slid in the key.She swung the door wide, the silence of the campsite compressing her soul.Gentle as a mother, she reached in to sweep back dirty hair and check the pulses of the two littleboys.
Then, Ren’wynbroke.
The wall of shades dissolved as horror consumed her, giving way to an all-encompassingrage.
She barely registered Fael’s roar as the barrier fell.Fire erupted across his arms and legs, licking up the blade of his sword as he poured the full force of his power into reachingher.
He fell into the ash as the shadows twisted up his limbs, extinguishing his flames.Ren’wyn turned to him, her chest heaving, her hands clutching the strands of her shadow net so tightly that ash fell faster from the threads, coating the ground in a thick, dark layer.
Fael crawled toward her, his face glistening with sweat, his expression a mixture of fury and desperation.She pointed at him, and his power rose in response.
Fael leaned back, pressing his magic out, tongues of flame bursting up through her shadow net.His rage and bloodlust touched her, and sheconsumedit.The dormant beast inside her woke, hissing and coiling as fire erupted along the threads of the net.The shadows blazed with searing blue flames, a manifestation of herrage.
The soldiers stirred, coughing and sputtering as the ash clogged their throats and burned their skin.Ren’wyn roared, pressing her hands into the ground, forcing the fiery net down with all her might.
Flames consumed the regiment, their clothes igniting and their bodies writhing in agony.They begged for mercy—screamed for it—but she had none togive.
Her gaze remained fixed on the boys in the cart, her vision blurred by tears of fury and grief.
