The Reckoning

Is it over?" Lira's voice cut through the haze of exhaustion and adrenaline. She came at him slowly, her face smeared with dirt and blood, but her eyes still sharp, always assessing.

I shook my head. "Not yet. They'll regroup. The ones who survived."

"We have to finish them," she said, her tone flat, devoid of sentiment. "While they're down. While they're vulnerable.

I met her eyes, and the truth of her words sunk in. The Blackwood Legion was no longer a unified army; it was a disparate collection of forces, each one on the lookout for any chance to regroup. We didn't have time to wait for that. If we let them get away, if we let them regroup, it would be too expensive.

"We'll push on, then," I said coldly. "But it won't be careless; we need to take apart what remains of their commanding force. If we succeed in that, the lot of them will collapse."

Lira nodded and turned to rally the remaining troops. It was strange, I thought, how quickly the camaraderie of battle could fall into place, and how quickly it could shatter. One moment, we were fighting side by side; the next, we were preparing for the next strike, all of us wearing the invisible scars of what we had done.

It had not been a rout or retreat. The remains of the Blackwood Legion still fought there around the broken remnants of what must once have been their camp. Their remaining officers were at despair, their faces grim because of that knowledge that the battle slipped out of their fingers. And so they fought with a desperation bred at the edge of despair.

I led the charge once again, my mind focused on the task ahead, my body moving through the motions without thought. We swept through their lines, relentless in our pursuit. Every strike felt mechanical, every clash of steel a distant noise, drowned by the storm of my own thoughts.

We had to win. There was no other option.

I found myself face to face with one of the remaining Blackwood commanders—a woman, tall and fierce, her armor bearing the sigil of a raven. Her eyes met mine with cold precision.

"You think you've won?" she spat, her voice like gravel. "You don't know what you've started. Blackwood will not fall."

I stepped forward, my sword raised. "Your Legion is broken. Your leaders are dead. There's nothing left for you."

She smiled, a cruel, defiant smile. "You think you've broken us? You're wrong. The Wraithwood will be your grave."

I hesitated, the words striking a chord. The Wraithwood… the very place we had come from. But the cold certainty in her voice was enough to snap me back into focus. This was no time for hesitation.

I lunged.

Her sword was quick—too quick—and we locked in a deadly dance, the clash of our blades echoing across the field. She was skilled, her movements sharp and precise, but there was a wildness to her strikes that revealed her desperation.

"You don't know what the Wraithwood holds," she hissed between strikes. "What it can do to you. You'll be consumed by it. Like all who dare trespass."

Her words were a whispered counterpoint to the cacophony of battle, but they stayed with me like an ache in my side. What did the Wraithwood hold? What did we walk into now?

With a hard strike, I knocked her sword from her hand, sending it skittering across the dirt. She stepped back, her breath coming in ragged gasps, but she didn't fall over.

"No matter how many of us you kill, you will never be free of it," she growled.

I took a step closer, my sword now pointed at her chest. "Maybe not. But it's better than being part of the poison that rots this world."

She sneered, her lips curling into a snarl. "You'll regret this. You'll all regret it."

And with that, I ended it.

The battle nearly won, it had come; and there followed, silent and grave, a mutual comprehension which settled upon all remaining limbs. The Blackwood Legion was broken now: her officers dead; her line and file gone into disaster. We had defeated her. But then there loomed something far, far more evil upon the horizon.

The Wraithwood.

The wood.

I stood there, the battlefield around me still as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of red and gold. We had won, but we were far from done. The real test—what awaited us in the heart of the Wraithwood—still lay ahead.

And I wasn't sure we were ready for it.