Chapter 20: Fractured Resolve

The forest was eerily silent. The only sound was the faint crunch of snow beneath Banrik's boots as he trudged through the thick woods, his breath coming out in harsh gasps. The fight was over, but it had left its marks on him. His muscles were sore from the brutal fight, his body ached, and the wound on his side, though shallow, still burned with every movement.

But the pain in his side was nothing compared to the agony in his right hand. His once strong hand, the one with two fingers still intact, was now a mangled stump. The severed hand lay somewhere on the forest soil, lost among the snow-covered leaves, the blood soaking into the ground. His grip on his sword was impossible now, his hand useless as it hung limp at his side.

Banrik glanced over his shoulder at the fallen assassin. The man, once a deadly force in the shadows, lay motionless on the ground, his blood staining the snow beneath him. Banrik had fought him to the bitter end, each strike and parry a desperate attempt to survive. But it had cost him dearly.

He had defeated the assassin, but the victory felt hollow. The thought of Princess Liria and Tia, running through the dark forest, haunted him. The princess was gone, lost to the shadows, and he hadn't been able to protect her. His heart ached with the weight of that failure. His duty had been to safeguard her life, but now she was out there, alone and vulnerable.

The cold began to creep deeper into his bones, but Banrik didn't stop. He couldn't. Not until he found her. He had no choice but to keep moving, to keep searching. He tore a piece of fabrik from his shirt to cover the wound on his hand, to stop the bleeding.

His footsteps slowed, and he turned toward the sound of another set of footsteps approaching from behind. His sword was still drawn, his stance defensive, but it was only Tia who emerged from the trees, her face pale with worry.

"Banrik," she gasped, panting as she came to a halt in front of him. "Are you all right?"

Banrik's gaze flickered to her face, but it was clear from her expression that she had something far more urgent to say than to check on his condition. His eyes narrowed, and his voice was hoarse. "Where is she?"

Tia hesitated, her eyes shifting to the ground. The silence stretched between them before she finally spoke, her voice trembling.

"I... I lost her. I couldn't keep up. She—she was running so fast, and I—" Tia's voice broke, and she turned away, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I lost her, Banrik. I couldn't find her."

Banrik's stomach dropped, and his heart sank. "What do you mean you lost her? She's still out there—she's got to be."

"I know," Tia whispered, her voice thick with guilt. "I searched and searched and just kept searching, but she's gone. I can't find her anywhere."

Banrik closed his eyes for a moment, letting the news settle in. It wasn't Tia's fault. She had done everything she could. But the feeling of helplessness gnawed at him. He should have stayed with her. He should have never let her run off alone.

He shook his head, gritting his teeth. "No. We'll find her. We have to."

Tia's expression softened as she looked at him, her brow furrowed in concern. "Banrik, your hand…" Her voice trailed off as she noticed the blood staining his sleeve. "You're hurt."

Banrik glanced at his hand, the one that had once been strong and capable. It was a grim sight now, a mangled stump where his fingers had once been. He felt a sudden wave of dizziness, but he pushed it down. He couldn't afford to think about it now. Not when Liria was still out there, somewhere, alone.

"I'll be fine," he muttered, though the pain was searing, especially as his mind registered the injury more fully. His hand felt like a dead weight, and the blood continued to seep through his makeshift bandage, staining his tunic.

Tia, however, wouldn't let him ignore it. She stepped forward and carefully took his injured hand, gently pulling the cloth from his wrist to reveal the extent of the damage. Banrik winced as she touched it, his muscles tensing involuntarily.

"I'm so sorry, Banrik," Tia said softly, her eyes full of sympathy. "But this needs to be cleaned. We can't afford to leave it untreated."

Banrik nodded, gritting his teeth as she worked quickly, tearing a strip of fabric from her own tunic to bind his hand. The cold made the wound feel worse, but he forced himself to focus. He needed to stay strong.

Once she had finished, Tia stood and looked at him, her expression serious. "We need to go. We can't stay here."

Banrik nodded, already moving toward the fallen assassin's horse, which had wandered a little away from the clearing. The horse, though startled, had been relatively unharmed by the fight. It snorted as he approached, its breath misting in the cold air.

Without a word, Banrik swung himself into the saddle, though the movement caused him a sharp jolt of pain in his side. His injury from the battle, combined with the loss of his hand, made him feel weaker than he liked to admit, but there was no time to waste.

Tia climbed onto the horse behind him, her body pressed close against his. She was silent as they rode, and though Banrik couldn't see her face, he could feel her worry radiating through her.

"We'll find her," he said again, though he wasn't sure if it was more for his benefit than for hers. He didn't know where to look, but the thought of Liria being out there alone, vulnerable, filled him with a sense of urgency that kept him pushing forward.

They rode for hours through the dense forest, the snow still falling in heavy flurries, making the trail nearly impossible to follow. Banrik urged the horse onward, hoping that by some miracle, they would stumble upon the princess. But the longer they searched, the more desolate the forest seemed to become. The snow had buried any tracks, and the night was closing in, making it difficult to see beyond a few feet.

As the hours stretched on, the hope that had once burned brightly inside Banrik began to fade. The forest felt endless. The trees were dark and looming, their branches heavy with snow, blocking out the moonlight. No matter how hard they tried, no matter how fast they rode, there was no sign of Liria.

Finally, Banrik slowed the horse to a stop, his heart sinking. He turned to Tia, who had been silent for a long while, her face pale and tired. She looked at him, and without a word, they both understood. There was no way forward now.

"We'll rest for tonight," Banrik said quietly, his voice hoarse from the exhaustion and frustration. "We'll start again at first light."

Tia nodded, her face full of worry. "But Banrik, what if—what if she's—"

"We'll find her," Banrik cut in, though the words felt hollow. His resolve was starting to falter, but he pushed the thought away. He couldn't afford to doubt. Not now. Not when Liria's life depended on him.

With that, they rode away, finding the nearest town or village for the night and to see a physician.

Tia pulled her cloak tightly around herself to ward off the biting cold. Banrik did the same, his hand throbbing with pain, but he didn't show it. They had to be strong. For the princess. For Eastanzarth. For the kingdom.

But as he stared out into the night, the thought that haunted him the most was one he couldn't shake: What if they never found her?