The escape was slow and exhausting.
They've been walking between trees and bushes, making sure to stay away from the main natural path that leads into Triadis.
Zark led the way, his boots heavy with mud, his breathing shallow. Beside him, Lord Kaelen dragged his feet slowly, his eyes hollowed out by the loss of his son and his home.
Seren supported her limping brother Tharen, while Valera walked with her head down, her dark hair matted with ash.
They finally reached the Greatwoods.
The Greatwood was a tangle of ancient oaks and mist, a labyrinth of damp earth and shadows that felt much like the fog of Caelenguard.
The trees were so dense it blocked what little sunlight that pierced between the branches
They had been walking for hours. With a small company of seven guards, they're the survivors of the breach, they kept their hands on their hilts, flinching at every snap of a dry twig.
"I believe we're clear," one of the guards whispered, wiping sweat from his brow.
"The valley is miles behind us. They're most likely busy looting the keep. We should be safe."
"No..."
The word left Zark's throat before he could think. He stopped dead, his head tilting slightly towards the endless treelines behind them.
He didn't hear a horn. He didn't see anything. But the air felt... heavy.
His gut felt uneasy. It felt as if the shadows behind the trees weren't just shadows.
"Zark?" Kaelen asked, his voice rasping.
"My lord... you should move ahead, You need to reach the Greathold Castle before sundown," Zark said.
He didn't look back. His eyes were fixed on a cluster of oak trees a hundred yards behind them.
Kaelen frowned, "What's the matter? We must keep moving, don't waste more time."
"I'll follow along with few guards behind you after I make sure that nothing is following us." Zark replied.
Seren stepped forward, her brow furrowed, "We aren't leaving you. We stay together."
"...Your lives matter more than mine." Zark replied.
Then he continued. "I can't explain it, but something is nearby, if you don't move now, you won't make it."
Kaelen looked at Zark, then at the trembling Valera. He saw the truth in his eyes, a terrifying certainty followed behind his gaze.
"Five men stay with the boy," Kaelen ordered, his voice cracking. "The rest... form around my family. We move. Now!"
Before they left, Valera turned back towards Zark, "Promise you'll return..."
"I will." He replied, with a faint smile.
As the Stormvale family disappeared into the thicket, the forest seemed to grow darker. Zark stood with the five remaining guards. Harlen, a veteran named Jory, a young boy barely fifteen named Pip, and two others.
Zark equipped his visored helmet and they waited patiently...
The silence lasted three minutes.
"Where are they, kid?" Jory asked, drawing his mace.
Zark didn't answer. He just drew his sword. His hands were shaking, not with fear, but with a violent energy that felt like it was trying to peel his skin off from the inside.
Then–
Horses emerged.
They didn't gallop. They drifted through the trees like ghosts. Six cloaked knights in chainmail armor, their surcoats bearing the golden crowned lion of Regalion.
These weren't levies or standard infantry, These were Legarde's hounds, an elite force of hunters.
"Hold the line!" Jory screamed.
Pip, the youngest guard, looked at the cold, expressionless visors of the hunters and felt his soul wither. He dropped his spear. "No... no, we can't... we can't fight those."
"Pick it up, boy!" Jory yelled.
But it was too late. The hunters moved with a synchronized, predatory grace.
The first knight spurred his mount. The horse, a massive beast clad in leather barding, slammed into Pip before the boy could even scream. The sound of his ribs snapping under the weight of the warhorse was like dry wood splintering.
Pip was thrown back into a tree trunk, his spine shattering on impact. He slid down the bark, a heap of broken meat, his eyes wide and vacant.
"You f*cking cowards!" Harlen screamed in rage. But as two other guards saw Pip's mangled body, the terror became absolute. They turned and bolted into the brush.
Two hunters didn't even bother to dismount. They leveled short, heavy cavalry crossbows. Twang-twang!!–
The bolts caught the fleeing guards in their backs. One fell face first into the dirt, his legs kicking uselessly as he paralyzed, the other let out a gurgling shriek as the bolt pierced his lung.
Now, it was only Zark, Jory, and Harlen.
"Back to back!" Jory roared, but the lead hunter was already upon him.
The knight dismounted in one fluid motion, his shortsword singing as it left the sheath. Jory swung his mace in a desperate heavy arc. The hunter didn't even parry, he stepped inside the swing, his shoulder slamming into Jory's chest to knock the wind out of him. Then, with a casual, sickening precision, the hunter drove his sword upward, under Jory's chin and through the roof of his mouth.
Jory's body jerked once, his eyes rolling back as the steel pierced his brain. The hunter kicked the corpse off his blade.
Zark lunged forward–
His shoulder screamed, the arrow wound from the night before tearing open, but he drove his blade into the gap of a hunters gorget. Blood sprayed across Zark's visor. The hunter gurgled and jerked as he fell.
Harlen was next. He fought like a cornered dog, his sword clashing against a hunter's shield. But he was exhausted. The hunter caught Harlen's blade in a bind and twisted the steel out of his hand.
In a quick motion, he stepped behind him. A jagged dagger emerged–
It mercilessly pierced Harlen's neck.
Harlen slumped to his knees, blood pouring over his surcoat.
Zark stood alone.
Three hunters circled him on foot now, Zark's vision began to tunnel. His strength was gone. A blade caught him across the ribs, slicing through his surcoat and his hauberk.
Another slash from behind opened a deep gash in his thigh.
His breath slowed as the fight raged on.
He could feel the blood loss.
He tried to focus on a defensive stance but was caught mid guard by a mace to the face, which caved half of his visor near his eye, Almost blinding it.
The impact made him stagger and feel dazed, his ears ringing violently.
Metal pressed into his face. His vision blurred behind the cracked slit of his visor.
Zark tore the helmet off with shaking hands–
It hit the ground beside him with a dull clang.
Cold air struck his face and blood ran into his eye.
He blinked hard–
And stepped forward anyway.
Another hunter lunged forward, piercing his blade into Zark's side.
The pain was unbearable. It almost made him faint.
He staggered back toward the edge of the treeline, where the forest ended abruptly at a jagged limestone cliff.
"Yield," the lead hunter said, his voice muffled by his visor.
Zark backed away, his boots hitting the edge of the cliff. Below lay a drop into a sea of dark oak trees and jagged rocks, lost in the mist.
He was dying. He could feel his heart slowing down with each second.
"So this is it...?" he thought,
"at least they're safe now..."
"..."
"...Promise you'll return..."
Zark took one final breath and looked towards the hunters.
The lead hunter gave a final signal, a crossbow was aimed towards Zark.
"Send my regards to the Regalion bastards." Zark gave his final words.
"Enough of this," the hunter hissed.
Twang–!
And just like that.
The heavy bolt struck Zark in the chest. Pushing him off the cliff.
Zark didn't close his eyes. He watched the hunters shrink into the distance as he plummeted toward the jagged dark below.