ESCAPE- Through a narrow path.

 Amara's scream echoed down the deserted alleyway; a desperate cry punctuated by the sickening thud of Kylea hitting the cobblestones. Panic threatened to consume Amara, but amidst the rising tide of fear, a primal instinct to protect her friend surfaced. Rushing to Kylea's side, she found her hand stained a crimson red, but Kylea was gritting her teeth, pushing back the pain with an admirable show of fortitude.

"K-kylea?!" Amara cried, kneeling beside her. "Are you alright? KYLEA!!!"

Kylea winced but managed a weak smile. "Jus..just a graze. Hurts like the devil, but nothing serious. But stay alert! We're not in the clear yet."The warning died on her lips as a dark figure materialized from the shadows behind Amara.

Clad in dark cloaks, the figure moved with the silent grace of a predator. A glint of metal in the dim light sent a shiver down Amara's spine – a throwing knife, its purpose all too clear.

Before either woman could react, the figure lunged, his knife aimed at their throats. It happened in a blur. A flash of silver, a metallic clang, and a choked gasp.

A new figure stood behind the assassin's crumbling body, a stranger cloaked in crimson, his sword dripping with blood. He had dispatched the attacker with a single, swift motion." Well, that wasn't very pleasant, was it, love?" the stranger drawled, his voice surprisingly light in the wake of such violence.

Kylea, her breath ragged, forced a scornful smile. "D-delightful, just delightful. Especially for someone trying to avoid getting stabbed."

The stranger chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound. "Apologies then. Though it seems you ladies attract trouble like moths to a flame." He reached out a hand to help Kylea up, but she swatted it away, "So is the curse of the pretty and handsome… but, I doubt you'll understand such a thing looking at your situation." Kylea said as she stood up favoring her injured arm.

"Back to more serious talks," Amara said, her voice hard as steel. "Who are you, and who sent that assassin?"

The stranger surveyed her with a calculating gaze, then gave a curt nod. "Sir Bain, at your service, ladies."

A sliver of hope flickered in Amara's chest. Kylea had mentioned Bain, hadn't she? This must be him! But the timing was suspicious, almost too convenient.

"We're… not here for pleasantries, Bain," Kylea stated, her bravado momentarily shaken. "We have a task that requires protection, and we need it fast."

Bain gestured for them to follow him, leading them away from the scene of violence and into a labyrinth of narrow passages. His movements were confident, his stride purposefully silent. After a maze-like journey, they arrived at a small, rundown building tucked away in a secluded corner.

"Let's have a look at that arm, shall we?" Bain said, gesturing to a worn armchair.

Before Kylea could protest, Amara stepped forward. "We appreciate your kindness, but…" she trailed off, weariness settling on her features as she looked at Kylea. "Perhaps introductions can wait. First, a place to rest and a way to clean this wound."

Kylea looked at Amara, surprise flickering across her face. But seeing the strain etched on her friend's features, she understood. Amara, despite the attack, had maintained a remarkable composure. Perhaps it was the desperation of their situation, the need to keep moving, that had kept her going.

Bain watched them, his eyes gleaming with a hint of curiosity. "Alright," he conceded, perhaps surprised by their quick recovery. "Rest for a while. We can talk later." He disappeared into the building, returning moments later with a basin of water and clean clothes.

As Kylea tended to her wound, a worried frown creased Amara's brow. Kylea's face, pale from the attack, seemed to have an unnatural flush creeping up her cheeks. A tremor ran through Kylea's body, causing her to wince in pain.

"Kylea, are you alright?" Amara asked, her voice laced with concern. Kylea tried to smile, but it faltered. "Just the adrenaline wearing off, I suppose." She finished bandaging her arm, but her hand lingered on the wound. "We need to move, Amara. We both know we're short on time," she said with a weak voice.

"We will," Amara said gently. "But not now. You need to rest. You've done more than enough."

Kylea looked at her, her eyes filled with a mixture of defiance and concern. "Done enough? We haven't even started! And besides, I'm not the one who just remained calm after dodging a flying dagger."

Amara knelt beside her, taking Kylea's hand in hers. "Kylea, that was different. You're hurt. This journey, it's too dangerous. You can stay here, and get proper treatment. Bain owes you that much if he's serious about you. You can't return to the house without me, after all. I'll handle the negotiations. I can double the offer, and find someone else. It won't be ideal, but I can't ask you to risk further injuries."

Kylea squeezed Amara's hand tightly, her voice barely a whisper. "No, Amara. I came this far, I won't…"

A sudden wave of nausea swept over her, forcing her to clamp her mouth shut and fight back the urge to vomit. Alarmed, Amara gently helped her lie back down. Kylea's skin was burning hot, and the tremor in her hand had intensified.

Panic clawed at Amara's throat. "Kylea, this is more than fatigue. Something's wrong," she said, her voice shaking.

Suddenly, a horrible realization dawned on her. The graze from the dagger – it wasn't just a simple wound. The strange flush, the tremors, the sudden fever – it all pointed to one chilling conclusion. Poison.

"Kylea, was the dagger…?" Amara couldn't even bring herself to finish the question.

Kylea opened her eyes, a flicker of understanding passing through the haze of pain and confusion. "It… felt different," she rasped. "L-like… burning ice."

Amara felt a cold dread settle in her stomach. "We need a healer, where's Bain?!" she declared, her voice tight with urgency. "I'm going to find him, just bare it."

Ignoring Kylea's weak protests, Amara rushed out the door, her mind racing. She found Bain cleaning his sword in a dimly lit corner.

"A healer, we need a healer," she blurted out, her voice barely controlled. "I think Kylea… she's been poisoned."

Bain looked up, his face hardening with concern. He knelt beside Kylea, his rough hands surprisingly gentle as he examined her wound. His brow furrowed deeply, and a flicker of worry passed through his steely gaze.

"Poison, you say?" he muttered, his voice low and gruff, laced with a hint of urgency.

"Yes," Amara confirmed, her chest constricting with fear. "The dagger…"

Bain remained silent for a moment, his keen eyes scrutinizing the wound with a practiced intensity. Then, he looked at Amara, a steely glint in his eyes that now held a spark of determination. "These change things. This wasn't a random attack. Someone wants you silenced, Lady…?"

Amara hesitated for a beat before meeting his gaze. "Ayra. Just Ayra."

"Ayra," Bain repeated, a flicker of doubt crossing his features for it seems Kylea's previous screams had reached his ears. But his concern for Kylea now a burning ember in his eyes overclouded that doubt. "This journey just got a whole lot more complicated. But rest assured, I won't let Kylea die. I'll find the best healer in the city, coin or no coin. Her life is paramount."

Relief washed over Amara, a wave that threatened to drown her in its intensity. "Thank you," she said, the words thick with emotion. "Whatever the amount, I will pay you back tenfold."

"Money is one thing," Bain said, his voice gruff but his concern for Kylea softening his tone. "But trust is another. Do you still think I can be of assistance, even with this new complication?"

Amara stared at him, her eyes burning with an unwavering resolve. "Yes! Now more than ever. You're our only hope to save Kylea and help me get to Kearl."