lines in the sand

The air felt heavier with every breath Jasmine took. The leader of the mercenaries stood poised, his sword glinting in the faint sunlight that filtered through the trees. His presence filled the clearing, a calm, calculated menace that made her stomach churn. Blood dripped from the blade of his weapon, staining the earth beneath his feet, a grim reminder of the violence that was only just beginning.

Caden, breathing hard, positioned himself between Jasmine and the leader. His sword was still raised, but Jasmine could see the strain in his posture. He had taken out one of the mercenaries, but the fight had drained him, and now the real threat stood before them. The remaining mercenary circled them, waiting for his chance, his eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger.

"We don't have to do this," Caden said, his voice low but steady. "Walk away. You don't know what you're fighting for."

The leader of the mercenaries smirked, shaking his head. "I know exactly what I'm fighting for. You're the ones who don't understand. You think that letter is your ticket to freedom, but all it will do is get you killed faster. Hand it over, and maybe I'll let you live."

Jasmine's heart pounded, her grip tightening on her dagger. She could feel the weight of the letter in Caden's pack—so small, yet so dangerous. It wasn't just paper and ink. It was the key to unraveling the lies of the regime, the proof of betrayal that could ignite a rebellion. But at this moment, it felt like a death sentence.

Caden's jaw clenched. "If that's what it takes to bring the truth to light, so be it."

The leader's eyes darkened, his smirk fading. "Foolish," he muttered, his voice low and filled with disdain. "You think people care about the truth? They don't. They care about surviving, about power. You'll learn that soon enough—assuming you survive this."

And then he moved, faster than Jasmine expected. His sword arced through the air, aimed directly at Caden. Caden barely managed to block the blow, steel clashing with steel in a brutal symphony. The force of the strike pushed him back a step, his boots skidding in the dirt. But he held his ground, his eyes blazing with determination.

Jasmine felt a surge of panic rise in her chest. She had to do something. She couldn't just stand there and watch Caden fight alone. Her muscles screamed in protest as she darted toward the remaining mercenary, her dagger ready. He was bigger, stronger, but she was faster. She dodged his first strike, ducking beneath his blade as it whooshed through the air above her head.

Her heart raced as she spun around, aiming a slash at his exposed side. He twisted at the last moment, the blade grazing his arm but not enough to slow him down. He snarled and swung again, and this time, Jasmine barely managed to raise her dagger in time to block the attack. The force of the blow jarred her arm, sending a shock of pain up her shoulder, but she held her ground.

Behind her, the clash between Caden and the leader intensified. Caden was skilled, his movements quick and precise, but the leader fought with a cold, ruthless efficiency. Every strike seemed aimed to break Caden down, to wear him out, and Jasmine could see Caden struggling to keep up. They didn't have much time.

"Jasmine, get out of here!" Caden shouted between breaths, his voice strained. "I'll hold them off!"

"No!" she shouted back, ducking another wild swing from her opponent. "I'm not leaving you!"

"Don't be stupid!" Caden growled, his sword locking with the leader's in a grinding clash. "You need to—"

Before he could finish, the leader broke the lock, stepping back for only a second before delivering a punishing blow to Caden's side. Caden stumbled, a sharp cry escaping his lips as he fell to one knee, blood seeping from a fresh wound.

Jasmine's chest tightened in horror. "Caden!"

The leader's eyes gleamed with triumph as he raised his sword for the killing blow, but Jasmine moved before she could think. She sprinted toward him, her dagger raised high, fueled by sheer desperation. She wouldn't let this end like this. Not now. Not like this.

She was almost on him when the second mercenary grabbed her from behind, his arm locking around her throat, pulling her back with a vicious strength that knocked the wind out of her. Her dagger slipped from her fingers, clattering uselessly to the ground as she struggled to break free, gasping for air.

"You should've run when you had the chance," the mercenary hissed into her ear, his grip tightening.

Jasmine's vision blurred, her lungs burning for air. She could see Caden on the ground, trying to push himself up, but the leader loomed over him, his sword still raised. It was over. They had failed.

And then, a loud thud echoed through the clearing, followed by a scream of pain. The mercenary holding her released his grip, stumbling backward. Jasmine collapsed to the ground, coughing and gasping for breath. She looked up, dazed, just in time to see a figure emerge from the shadows—another man, this one dressed in dark, weathered clothes, his face obscured by a mask.

The new arrival moved swiftly, driving his sword into the mercenary who had been holding Jasmine. The man let out a strangled cry before falling limp, collapsing to the ground. The leader of the mercenaries turned, his eyes narrowing in shock and anger.

"You!" the leader snarled.

But the masked man didn't respond. He simply lunged, his blade flashing in the morning light as he attacked. The leader parried the strike, but it was clear that this new opponent was far more skilled than either Caden or Jasmine. The two men exchanged a series of rapid, brutal blows, the leader quickly losing ground as the masked man pushed him back, step by step.

Jasmine, still gasping for breath, crawled over to Caden's side. He was bleeding badly, his face pale, but he was still conscious. "Stay with me," she whispered, her voice trembling.

The fight between the masked man and the leader ended as quickly as it had begun. With a final, devastating strike, the masked man drove his sword into the leader's chest. The leader's eyes widened in shock before he collapsed, his body hitting the ground with a heavy thud.

The masked man stood over him for a moment, his breathing steady, before he turned toward Jasmine and Caden. For a long moment, none of them spoke. The forest was eerily quiet once again, the violence over but the tension still thick in the air.

"Who are you?" Jasmine finally managed to ask, her voice hoarse.

The man pulled off his mask, revealing a weathered face, scarred but strangely calm. His eyes met hers, and there was no malice there—just a quiet intensity.

"I'm someone who knows the lines you've crossed," he said simply. "And I'm here to make sure you survive them."