Chapter 6: Fugitives of Fate

The night stretched endlessly before them, the road a dark ribbon winding through the desolate outskirts of Veyrith. The stolen vehicle sped across the uneven terrain, its tires kicking up clouds of dust as Haytham gripped the wheel with unwavering focus. The Black Tower was now miles behind them, its menacing silhouette swallowed by the horizon, but the danger was far from over.

Karima sat in the passenger seat, her fingers drumming against her knee, her mind a chaotic storm of thoughts. Her father's revelation still echoed in her head. The blood of the First Wielders runs through us.

A myth. A legend.

Or so she had believed.

Karl rested in the backseat, his breathing slow but steady. The exhaustion was evident in the lines on his face, but his mind was still sharp, his gaze alert even as his body struggled to recover. He had spent years keeping secrets—now, there was no time left for them.

Haytham broke the silence. "We can't go back to the city. The Council will have checkpoints everywhere."

Karima nodded, gripping the edge of her seat. "Then where do we go?"

Karl leaned forward slightly. "There's an old contact. A place where we might be safe, for now. The Outlands."

Haytham's grip on the wheel tightened. "The Outlands are crawling with bounty hunters and warlords who'd sell us out in a second."

"We don't have a choice," Karl said. "If the Council has branded me a traitor, they'll put every available resource into finding us. We need time—time to plan, time to understand what's happening."

Karima turned toward her father, her jaw tightening. "And what is happening, exactly? You said we're the last of the First Wielders. What does that mean? What kind of power are we supposed to have?"

Karl exhaled, running a hand over his face. "The Wielders weren't just legends. They were real. Centuries ago, they shaped nations, forged empires, and guided civilizations. But power is feared, Karima. When the High Council rose to dominance, they began eliminating those who carried the bloodline. They called it 'purification,' but it was genocide. Those who survived went into hiding. Our family was one of them."

Karima's chest tightened. "And you never told me?"

"I wanted to protect you," Karl admitted. "The moment you knew, you became a target."

Haytham glanced at Karl through the rearview mirror. "So what you're saying is… Karima might have abilities she doesn't even know about?"

Karl gave a weary nod. "Yes."

A heavy silence settled over the car. Karima stared out the window, her mind spinning. If this was true—if she carried the blood of the First Wielders—then she wasn't just fighting for survival anymore. She was fighting for something far bigger than herself.

A sudden vibration against her thigh snapped her back to the present. Her communicator. A message flashed across the screen: Unknown Sender. Coordinates Attached. URGENT.

Her stomach twisted. Someone had found them.

"We need to stop," she said abruptly.

Haytham frowned. "What? Why?"

She turned the screen toward them. "We just got a message."

Karl's eyes darkened. "Trace it."

Haytham pulled the car to the side of the road, his fingers working quickly over a handheld scanner. A moment later, he cursed under his breath. "It's untraceable. But whoever sent this… they know exactly where we are."

Karima's pulse pounded. "Then we're walking into a trap."

Karl leaned back. "Or into an opportunity."

They followed the coordinates deep into the wastelands of the Outlands. The land here was barren, the remnants of an old industrial sector long abandoned. Towering metal husks of forgotten machines loomed in the darkness, their rusted frames casting eerie shadows under the moonlight.

The vehicle rolled to a stop outside a derelict structure, its walls covered in decades of decay.

Haytham cut the engine. "If this is an ambush, we're sitting ducks."

Karima tightened her grip on her knife. "Then let's not be."

They climbed out, weapons ready, moving cautiously through the entrance. The air smelled of damp metal and old oil. The silence was deafening.

Then, a voice.

"You're late."

Karima spun, knife raised, but the figure standing before them didn't move. Cloaked in a heavy hood, their face obscured, they stood with the ease of someone who had been waiting.

Haytham stepped forward. "Who are you?"

The figure lifted their head, revealing a woman with piercing amber eyes. "Someone who wants to keep you alive."

Karl inhaled sharply. "Elysia."

Karima turned to him, startled. "You know her?"

Karl nodded slowly. "She was one of the last protectors of our bloodline."

Elysia gave a wry smile. "And judging by the mess you've made, you need my help now more than ever."

Karima lowered her blade slightly but remained on guard. "Why send for us now?"

Elysia's smile faded. "Because the High Council is preparing for something bigger. They're not just hunting you anymore, Karima. They're hunting all of us."

The words settled like a weight in her chest. "What do you mean?"

Elysia gestured for them to follow. "There's something you need to see."

Inside the structure, the remnants of an old command center flickered to life. Screens lined the walls, displaying maps, schematics, and data feeds from across the region.

Elysia tapped one of the monitors. A holographic display appeared, showing a large facility buried deep in the mountains. "The High Council has been gathering the remaining descendants of the First Wielders here."

Karima's eyes widened. "Capturing them?"

Elysia's gaze was hard. "No. Experimenting on them."

A cold shiver ran down her spine. "Why?"

Karl's expression darkened. "Because they're trying to control what they can't destroy."

Haytham crossed his arms. "And how do we stop them?"

Elysia turned to Karima. "You, girl, are the key. If the bloodline in you is as strong as it should be, you may be the last chance any of us have."

Karima clenched her fists. The weight of everything—her lineage, the hunt, the truth—pressed on her, but she didn't falter.

She met Elysia's gaze. "Then we fight."

A small smile flickered across Elysia's lips. "Good. Because war is coming."

The screen behind her blinked, showing incoming transmissions from the Council's forces. The hunt was escalating. Their time was running out.

And Karima was done running.