For War - (Eighty Days)

The fire crackled. Eryn rubbed his hands together. Roan sat slumped in his chair, eyes half-closed, hands trembling.

Liora poured a glass of ale and slid it across the table. "Drink," she said.

Roan took it. "Never seen anyone move like that. There one moment, gone the next."

Eight entered. She looked at Roan. "Coming from you, that's a problem."

Roan gulped the ale. "If Val wanted us dead, he's doing a good job."

Nia stood. "Say that again."

Roan hesitated. "We need to take a step back."

Nia glanced at his covered wound. "One of our own is missing. If it was me or Liora, would you run?"

Roan met her eyes. "I only run. It's just a matter of where."

Eight stepped in. "Our cover's blown. We start over."

Liora refilled Roan's glass. "Not entirely. We know they're special."

Eight nodded. "It's a start." She took the glass and chugged it. Her hand glowed green as she reached out, healing his wound. Blood turned liquid, slid back into his skin. The flesh smoothed over.

Eryn's eyes widened. Liora smiled. Nia nodded.

Eight turned to Roan and Nia. "Go back to where it happened. Tell me what you find."

Roan nodded. "Alright."

The tavern was silent. The fire crackled. Roan and Nia left. Hours passed. The tavern filled with chatter and laughter.

The doors slammed open. Nia and Roan were thrown in, beaten.

"Enough," a red-headed figure growled. "You want answers? Earn them." His blade gleamed.

Eight stood. Liora scanned the room. "Those three won't win," she said quietly.

Eight hurled a chair. Knives flew past her. Two hooded figures rushed her. Liora jumped, touched the ceiling. "Wood to oil!" she shouted. Oil poured down, soaking the figures. She struck a match, held it high.

"You lose," she said. "Now talk."

The man grinned. "You want answers? Take them."

Flames roared. The figures summoned water and wind. The fire died. Steam filled the room.

Eight and the man clashed, swords ringing. He grinned, dropped his sword. "You'll have to take them," he hissed. His fingers twisted in the air, and space around Eight shimmered. The air locked her in place.

Eight gasped, stiffened.

"Grab her and run!" the man ordered.

Liora hissed, "Touch her and die."

Eryn moved, the fire roaring. "Echo Mirage: Active." His double formed, vanished into the fog. "Find Eight."

The red-headed man twisted his fingers. Eight froze. Her body strained but wouldn't move.

Eryn grabbed Roan, shoved him behind a table. "Stay low," he said. He pulled Nia down next to him. "Don't move."

The man dragged Eight toward the door. "She's coming with us."

Eryn stepped forward. The man raised his hand. The air shimmered like glass. Eryn hit it hard, stumbled back.

The man smirked, pulling Eight into the mist. Then they were gone.

Eryn stood still, the fire crackling in the quiet.

Liora's fingers brushed the table. She touched the floor. The wood twisted, turned to iron. The metal spread, trapping the hooded figures.

One struggled. The metal pulled tighter.

"Stay still," Liora said.

The figures yanked at their legs. The iron didn't give. One raised his hand.

Liora stepped forward. Stomped her foot. Iron shot up, locking their wrists.

Eryn pulled Roan and Nia back. "Move!"

The figures cursed. The leader snarled. His hood fell back.

"We're here to help," he said.

Eryn's eyes narrowed. "Thieves Den. You were supposed to wait for us."

"Plans change." The leader smiled. "There was a ruckus. We moved to intercept."

Liora softened. "You could've been faster."

The leader nodded. His eyes flicked to the trapped figures. "They were here already. We just didn't want to make it worse."

Eryn glanced at Roan and Nia. "You're here now. Make sure they stay down."

The leader signaled to the others. One by one, the hooded figures knelt. They checked the iron traps on their feet.

"We've got it," the leader said.

Liora stepped back. "Let's see what you can do."

The leader nodded. "We'll take care of it. Stay safe."

The Thieves Den rushed out. Their movements quick, sharp.

Eryn turned to Nia and Roan. "You good?"

Roan grunted. "I'll be fine." His voice was rough but strong.

Nia grimaced, rubbing her ribs. "Could've been worse. But they got us good."

Liora helped her up. "Rest. The fight's not over."

Eryn watched the door. "I'm not worried about them."

Liora looked at him. "You should be. The ones they're chasing? They're dangerous."

Liora sat back in her chair, arms folded. "Whoever took Eight, they didn't leave much. No trace. No clear motive."

"We'll find it," Roan said, his voice firm. "We always do."

Nia looked at Eryn. "What's the next move?"

Eryn paused. "We wait."

"For what?" Nia asked, frustrated.

"For the right signal," he said, almost to himself.

Roan let out a breath, pacing. "This is starting to feel like a game we're not playing."

Liora didn't look at him. "We're always behind, Roan. Always."

Eryn stood. "So what? You want us to sit here and do nothing?"

"Do nothing until we know more," Liora said. "We don't make moves without knowing who we're dealing with."

Nia clenched her fists. "And when will we know that?"

"When the pieces fall into place," Eryn said, his voice steady.