Chapter 14 #2
“Two days. We made camp here yesterday afternoon. We stayed near Thornspire as long as we could, hoping you’d come out.
Once Sereven and his men left, we searched the ruins as well, but couldn’t find either of you.
I left markers in case you somehow made it out.
I couldn’t risk Authority soldiers returning and finding us, so we made the decision to move away … ”
She doesn't need to finish. I know what Sereven would have done to anyone he caught. The crystal might have wounded him, but I doubt it’s diminished his capacity for cruelty.
“My Lord,” one of the fighters speaks up. “What are your orders? Where do we go from here?”
I look at him, then at the faces of the others.
These people are looking to me for direction, for hope, for instructions about what comes next.
Every instinct is telling me to turn around, to search every forest and valley until I find Ellie.
Abandon everything that duty demands until she’s safe. But my people need their leader.
If Varam followed my instructions, then he’s waiting for my return, with Stonehaven’s survivors. They’re depending on me to guide them, and keep them alive.
Leadership has never demanded such a painful choice. My entire life I’ve known that duty and desire rarely align, but I’ve never had to choose between them. I’ve never wanted to ignore duty for something personal.
“We go to meet Varam at Whiterock.” The words come out steady, regardless of my inner turmoil.
It’s the only decision I can make. Part of me rebels against the choice even as I speak it.
But these people trusted me enough to follow me into Thornspire.
I won’t abandon them now, no matter what it will cost me.
“How long will it take to get there?” Nyassa asks.
I think for a second. “Four days through the mountains. Three if we push.” I turn to Mira. “What happened to the horses?”
“They bolted after the explosion. We will have to continue on foot, but first you need food and rest. You’re both exhausted.”
My first instinct is to argue, but before I can say a word my eyes land on Nyassa. Her face is pale, her hands are shaking. Instead of pushing to leave now, I nod. “We’ll rest for an hour, and then we move.”
Mira shares what food they have—dried meat, journey bread, water.
It isn’t much but puts some color back in Nyassa’s cheeks.
When we’re ready to move, Mira takes the lead, guiding us along faint animal trails.
The afternoon light filters through the canopy, and everyone moves in silence, the only sounds are twigs breaking underfoot and the occasional breath.
As we walk, I think about Stonehaven, and what we left behind.
Did Varam manage to get everyone out in time?
The escape from Stonehaven was supposed to be swift and silent—families disappearing into the mountains with only what they could carry, leaving everything else behind.
I picture children who barely understand why they’re running, elders who remember other forced flights, other times of loss.
How many have made it to safety? How many are huddled at Whiterock right now, waiting for word that will never come if I don’t reach them?
Did Varam split them as I instructed? Or was he forced to choose one place? If the Authority closed in before they escaped, are they trapped inside the fortress that once protected them?
Varam would never surrender without a battle, and neither would the others. How many people have died while I was trapped in another world?
Questions circle endlessly through my mind as we walk. Each mile takes me further from any answers, from the ruins of Thornspire, and away from any chance that Ellie might find me if she returns there.
She should be walking beside me, questioning my plans, offering suggestions I wouldn’t consider, arguing with me when I don’t give her an answer she’s satisfied with. Her absence colors everything. It makes every decision feel incomplete.
By evening, we’ve made good progress, but the light is fading, and we need to stop for the night.
We find a small clearing protected by overhanging rocks, and everyone spreads out to establish watch positions without being told.
They know their responsibilities, and understand the importance of being vigilant.
They huddle together in pairs, sharing what warmth they can.
I can’t rest, though. There are too many thoughts crowding my mind. Too many fears.
Stars appear in the night sky, distant lights that have watched over countless generations of lovers and fighters and people who hoped for a better tomorrow. I wonder what they’re seeing now. If they are watching over Ellie the way they’re watching over us.
I’m considering whether to try and sleep when pain shoots through me. I stifle a gasp, my spine snapping taut.
“My Lord?” Mira’s voice is soft in the darkness. “Is everything all right?”
I can barely hear her over the rush of sensation, the invasion of emotions that aren’t mine—fear, confusion, determination. The shock leaves me reeling.
Ellie is alive.