Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Senara
In the forest's heart, where shadows wove an eerie dance with whispering leaves, I trudged alongside Thorn, with Kaelyn silently leading the way just a few feet ahead. Every footstep echoed through the dense foliage as exhaustion seeped into my very bones, and the unstable ground shifted beneath our tired feet like sand.
Thorn's ragged breaths and creased brow betrayed his fierce concentration and determination. His eyes, fixed on the path ahead, sparkled with an unyielding resolve even as his every step teetered on the edge of collapse. I watched him closely, my heart aching for him. The worried glances that Kaelyn shot over her shoulder at him didn't help either, though I knew we were both marveling at his stubborn drive.
Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "We need rest," I murmured, barely audible above the rustling leaves, my voice mingling with Kaelyn's soft, anxious hum of agreement.
"No," Thorn replied curtly, his jaw set as determination steeled him. "We keep moving."
Kaelyn's eyes flickered with concern as she exchanged a quick look with me.
Frustration welled within me as I sighed. "You're exhausted, Thorn. You've lost a good amount of blood. It's obvious that you can barely stand."
Kaelyn's grip on her own pack tightened as if sharing my worry. Or maybe she was just worried she'd get caught up in a lover's quarrel.
"And you expect me to sit here while our enemies draw closer?" he shot back, his voice sharp and edged with fears he tried to hide.
"I don't expect anything," I retorted, matching his sternness. "But I love you. Watching you push yourself to the brink like this isn't exactly fun for me. Besides," I paused, knowing that I was on the edge of pushing him too far. "If you fall, who will protect us both?" It was one of his biggest fears. I knew that without him having to say it aloud, and I felt bad for exploiting it, but it was for his own good.
Even Kaelyn's expression softened as guilt flitted across Thorn's eyes. For a moment, the tension seemed to ease, but then he shook his head with renewed resolve.
"We have a mission, Senara. We can't falter now. How far are we from your clearing, Kaelyn?"
I swallowed my retort, knowing it would only spark further conflict, and Kaelyn's quiet nod as she mumbled, "Not too far" urged us onward.
After that, we all fell silent, thoughts churning as the punishing journey through the woods continued. The forest wove a tapestry of shadow and light before us as each step became a battle against unyielding undergrowth.
Kaelyn was pushing our pace, her alert eyes ever watchful as she noted every faltering stumble of Thorn and every grimace that betrayed his weakening state the same way I did. His determination, etched deeply into every furrowed line on his face, was admirable even as our limbs felt heavy, like ivy creeping with a poisonous intent upon our muscles. This battle against despair was not merely physical, but a ceaseless war in the recesses of my mind.
"Thorn…" I whispered, my voice a fragile rasp barely cutting through the silence, and Kaelyn's head tilted in concern beside me. "You need to stop."
Yet, his fixed stare on the narrow path offered no sign of yielding. He clenched his jaw, as if grappling with limitations he refused to acknowledge, driven by a superhuman will that rendered him almost impervious to my pleas for rest. Kaelyn's eyes shone with the same silent mix of admiration and dread as she watched him strain under what he considered his duty, a duty that demanded sacrifice even when the price was his own well-being.
As the overgrown path wound deeper into the forest, the sinister embrace of the shadows fell upon us, making me lose all sense of time. It could have been midnight or midday. There was no way to tell since the forest was so dark.
Thorn's determined gaze never wavered, though his labored breaths betrayed his inner turmoil. I looked at him and saw that same look Kaelyn had seen earlier, a look of unwavering commitment that made my heart ache with a mix of love and fear.
"Thorn," I whispered again, pleading with him, "please, we need to rest."
His only reply was a low grunt, his eyes still fixed on the horizon.
Frustration and fear mingled as I insisted, "We can't keep going like this. You're pushing yourself too hard."
"I'm fine, Senara," he snapped harshly, catching me off guard. "We have a mission, remember? We cannot afford to stop now."
"But at what cost?" I pressed, desperation edging my tone. "What good are we if we collapse from exhaustion?"
"I won't collapse," he declared as he spun on his heel, his gaze finally meeting mine. His eyes, though steeled by determination, carried an undercurrent of vulnerability that sent a chill down my spine. His next words were soft. The promise of a lover and a warrior all rolled into one. "I made a promise to protect you, and I intend to keep it."
"Even if it kills you?" I asked, though anger and fear sharpened my words.
A grim look crossed his face. "If necessary," he confirmed, his jaw set in stubborn finality.
That finality ignited a spark of fury in me. "That's not protection, Thorn!" I burst out, my voice echoing in the silent forest, while Kaelyn's concerned glance urged reason. "You're not a machine, you're a living being, and living beings need rest!"
For a moment, Thorn's face softened at my outburst. Before he could respond, a sudden rustling in the nearby bushes compelled all of us to snap to attention. We tensed, our earlier argument momentarily forgotten as we scanned the darkened surroundings for signs of danger. Kaelyn stepped forward slightly, her hand moving subtly to rest near her weapon as she contributed to our watchfulness.
Yet, there was nothing, just the heavy tension that lingered, a stark reminder of the challenges still ahead. Alone yet bound by our shared purpose, the forest's eerie silence pressed in on us, and despair gnawed at my heart. We were tired, alone in our own struggles, yet united by duty in a world where the coming darkness threatened everything we held dear.
In the quieter moments that followed, I could sense Thorn's inner tremor before he even spoke, an unrelenting reminder of the burden he carried. His heart pounded as though echoing the relentless drums of inner conflict, and the responsibility that weighed on him pressed down visibly. He stood there, eyes fixed on the distant horizon, caught in a battle with the painful truth that his faltering strength might jeopardize our quest.
Then he addressed me, "Senara," his voice strained yet resolute. I saw the exhaustion in the shadows and lines around his eyes, and it pained me deeply. Kaelyn lingered nearby, her face etched with empathy as she silently stood witness to this vulnerable moment. "I understand your concern. I truly do. But I cannot rest now," he continued, resolute in his vow.
Tears burned fiercely behind my eyes, betrayed my mounting fear and desperation. I swallowed thickly, refusing to let them fall. We had been through worse, but it had always felt like we were on equal footing. This was different. My heart ached with the sense that he was in terrible shape, while Kaelyn and I weren't so bad. "Thorn, please," I tried again, my voice shaking ever so slightly, "we're no good to each other if we both collapse."
For a heartbeat, I glimpsed the gentler soul behind his hardened exterior, a recognition that did not dispel the chains of duty, yet softened his gaze ever so slightly.
"I swore to protect you," he reiterated, his tone unyielding, "and I will not break that promise, even at the cost of my life. When we get to the clearing, we can rest. If we stop before that, then we would just be asking for an attack when we are most vulnerable."
The tension between us soared, a raw energy filling the space. I ached for the days when our burdens were lighter, when simple joys replaced relentless sacrifice. Though now that I thought about it, we had never really had days like that. We enjoyed a night or two of freedom, but otherwise, I lived in fear for my life, or we fought for our survival.
Instead of replying, Thorn just turned and moved past Kaelyn, apparently willing to move in any direction to get away from my demands.
Kaelyn quickly overtook Thorn, making sure we were going the right way. As we moved through the forest, the remnants of our argument hung between us like a fragile barrier. My chest heaved with each heavy breath, a constant reminder of the internal chaos, while the fire in my eyes had dimmed to weary embers. I looked at Thorn, whose fierce expression was now edged with the marks of fatigue, his shoulders sagging under the weight of what he considered his duty and his injuries.
Though I had thought the forest couldn't get much darker, I was wrong. As what I assumed was twilight fell, the last light of day surrendered to a grim, unsettling gloom.
A shiver ran down my spine, not from the chill of the night but from the creeping sense of unease. I wrapped my arms around myself, and noticed that Kaelyn had done the same, our unspoken similarities a slight comfort amid the vast, oppressive darkness.
Though Thorn remained lost in his own tormented thoughts, I could sense his awareness of our shared distress, a silent struggle between his duty to protect and the haunting truth that he, too, needed rest. We all stood at a precipice, our bodies and minds screaming for relief, yet every pause seemed fraught with peril. The night deepened, the forest transforming around us into a living, whispering testament to our inner doubts and fears.
My gaze lingered on Thorn as the dim light etched deep shadows upon his strained features. His eyes rarely lifted, and his normally determined brow was clouded with worry and exhaustion. I ached to address his suffering, but remembered our previous clash, a barrier of unspoken words that threatened our fragile togetherness.
Kaelyn, still leading us by a few paces, called over her shoulder, "Not much further."
Thorn's shoulders sagged a little more, and I made a silent promise to myself. I must protect him, no matter what it takes.
Thorn wasn't the only one relieved by her words. We all needed the break, and I was eager to take care of Thorn's wounds and make sure he was okay. The quick battle wrapping we had done earlier looked like it was weeks old instead of hours and I was worried about infection, not that I even knew if fae could experience things like that.
A memory surfaced unbidden of someone I had almost considered a friend, as much as I could have friends in the human lands, and the long, slow death they had suffered through from an infection they didn't even realize they had until it was too late.
The memory sent a chill down my spine, fueling my urgency to reach the clearing before Thorn suffered a similar fate. As we trudged onward, each step seemed heavier than the last, the weight of our burdens pressing down upon us.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a small glade opened up before us. Kaelyn had stopped at the edge, allowing Thorn and me to catch up as she surveyed the area with a wary eye. The dense foliage gave way to a modest open space, the scattered moonlight filtering through the canopy and casting an ethereal glow on the moss-covered ground.
I turned to Thorn, my heart clenching at the sight of him swaying slightly on his feet. Without a word, I guided him to a fallen log, easing him down to sit. Fatigue glazed his eyes, but he offered no resistance, a small mercy in our silent struggle.
"I'll get some water from the stream that's just over there," Kaelyn said as she gestured to one side of the clearing. Thorn pushed to his feet. "I'll be faster and quieter alone. If I'm not back in the time it takes the fire to really get going, then I'm already dead."
Before either of us could stop her or even respond, she seemed to disappear from the clearing, only the sound of leaves underfoot letting us know she had just walked away and I had been too tired to track her movement.
I hadn't even noticed that she'd started a fire. I'd been so consumed with keeping an eye on Thorn.
As I began tending to his wounds, the quiet of the clearing enveloped us, broken only by the occasional rustling of leaves and the soft crackle of the fire Kaelyn had built. The flickering flames cast dancing shadows across Thorn's face, highlighting the deep lines etched by pain and exhaustion.
She came back a few moments later with the waterskin filled and dropped it at my feet. A second waterskin landed next to the first, surprising me. "One for drinking, one for cleaning." Her words were curt, but only because she was just as tired as Thorn and I were.
With each careful motion, I fought back the tears that threatened to spill over. Kaelyn had been thoughtful and was helping me care for Thorn, which I appreciated more than I could put into words. After all, how could I protect him when he refused to let me? His stubbornness was both a blessing and a curse, a testament to his unwavering dedication, yet also a potential catalyst for his undoing.
As I worked, Thorn's eyes met mine, a silent exchange passing between us, a plea for understanding, a promise of resilience, and an unspoken fear that we might not make it through this trial. In that moment, our bond transcended words, a connection forged in the fires of adversity and tempered by love. The emotions flowed between us through our soul bond and let us understand each other better, let us see the core of each other once more and I let the love I felt for him pour forth from me, showing him how much I cared even if I couldn't say it aloud in that moment.
Kaelyn remained a silent sentinel, her watchful gaze sweeping the treeline as she stood guard over our momentary respite. Her presence was a comforting reminder we were not alone, even in the depths of our darkest moments.
The night wore on as I tended to Thorn, my hands steady despite the turmoil within. With each breath, I willed him to be okay, for the wounds to heal with no infection lingering in his body. He fell asleep while I was wrapping him up and with Kaelyn's silent help; we positioned him against the stump of the tree he'd been sitting on so he didn't fall backward.
"I'll keep watch. Get some rest." Her words were so quiet I almost didn't hear them, and though part of me wanted to fight her, to insist that I was okay, the rest of me was too exhausted to care.
I curled next to Thorn, careful to avoid his injuries, and slept. My mind filled with worries and dread, but under all that was a sliver of hope. Hope that tomorrow would be better, that Thorn would be okay, that we would get to Moonweaver's Grove with little trouble, even though I knew better. Life was never that easy.