11. The gathering storm
Chapter Eleven: The Gathering Storm
The morning broke in silence, the air heavy with unspoken tension. Elias stirred first, wincing as he sat up, his hand brushing the bandaged wound on his side. Marvis had done what he could with the supplies they had, but the injury was deep, and Elias's movements were stiff with pain.
Marvis, sitting by the window with a cup of tea, turned at the sound. "You need to take it easy," he said, his voice firm.
Elias gave a faint smirk, though his amber eyes were tired. "I've fought through worse."
"That's not the point," Marvis said, rising to his feet. "You're no good to either of us if you collapse halfway through the next fight."
Elias didn't argue, though the set of his jaw betrayed his frustration.
The silence stretched between them, thick with the weight of the previous night. The memory of the Hunter's blade and the shadows that seemed to reach for them lingered, an unwelcome specter that neither could shake.
Marvis finally broke the quiet. "Do you think he'll come back?"
Elias shook his head. "Not right away. He's wounded, and he'll need time to recover. But he'll send word to the Council. They'll know where we are."
Marvis's stomach tightened at the thought. "Then we need to move."
Elias nodded, his expression grim. "Darrow's Hollow isn't safe anymore. We'll head east, toward the mountains. There's an old fortress there—abandoned, as far as I know. We can regroup and figure out our next steps."
---
The village was eerily quiet as they prepared to leave, the streets empty and the doors shut tight. The encounter with the Hunter had left its mark, and the villagers were clearly afraid of being caught in the crossfire.
Marvis glanced around as they passed through the narrow streets, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger. "Do you think they'll tell the Council we were here?"
Elias's expression darkened. "They might. Fear makes people do desperate things."
Marvis didn't respond, but his grip on his dagger tightened.
As they reached the edge of the village, a voice called out behind them.
"Wait!"
They turned to see a young woman hurrying toward them, her blonde hair pulled back in a messy braid. She looked to be in her early twenties, her green eyes wide with urgency.
"You're leaving, aren't you?" she asked, glancing nervously over her shoulder.
Elias studied her warily. "What do you want?"
"I can help you," she said, her voice low. "But you need to take me with you."
Marvis frowned. "Why would you want to come with us?"
She hesitated, her gaze flicking between them. "Because if I stay here, they'll kill me. The Council doesn't leave witnesses."
Elias's eyes narrowed. "What do you know about the Council?"
The woman hesitated, then pulled up her sleeve to reveal a faint, circular mark burned into her skin—a brand.
"I used to work for them," she said quietly. "Until I found out what they were really doing."
Marvis exchanged a look with Elias, his unease growing. "How do we know we can trust you?"
"You don't," she admitted. "But I know things—about the Council, about their plans. You'll need me if you want to survive."
Elias studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he said, "What's your name?"
"Liora," she said. "And I can promise you, I'm not your enemy."
Marvis glanced at Elias, waiting for his decision.
Elias sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. "Fine. But if you try anything, you won't live to regret it."
Liora nodded, her expression serious. "Understood."
---
The three of them set out, the weight of their mission heavier than ever. The road ahead was rough and uneven, winding through dense forests and rocky hills.
As they walked, Liora spoke in hushed tones, sharing what she knew about the Council.
"They're more powerful than you realize," she said. "The Hunters are just one arm of their operation. They have spies, informants, entire villages under their control. And they won't stop until they get what they want."
Marvis frowned. "Which is…?"
Liora hesitated, her gaze darting to him. "The Flameheart."
Marvis's hand instinctively went to the key in his pocket. "Why?"
"Because it's the only thing that can stop them," Liora said. "The Flameheart isn't just a weapon—it's a source of power. With it, you could destroy the Council and everything they stand for."
Elias's jaw tightened. "Or they could use it to solidify their control."
Liora nodded. "That's why they'll stop at nothing to get it."
---
As night fell, they made camp in a secluded clearing, the flickering firelight casting long shadows over the trees.
Elias sat apart from the group, sharpening his blade with methodical precision. Marvis watched him for a moment before turning to Liora.
"Why did you leave the Council?" he asked, his tone cautious.
Liora's expression darkened. "Because I saw what they were capable of. They don't care about loyalty or justice—they care about control. And they'll destroy anyone who gets in their way."
Marvis nodded, though her words did little to ease his unease.
"Get some rest," Elias said, his voice cutting through the quiet. "We've got a long way to go tomorrow."
Marvis lay down, the weight of the key pressing against his chest like a silent reminder of their mission. As sleep claimed him, he couldn't shake the feeling that their journey was only growing more dangerous—and that the shadows of the Council were closer than ever.