Chapter 15

The hulking figure of Hector, a man whose size suggested a giant amongst men, stilled abruptly. His eyes narrowed with suspicion upon the girl before him. She presented no immediate threat, yet her appearance spoke volumes of a life teetering on the precipice. Her hair, tangled, clung to her face in greasy clumps, obscuring her features like a grimy veil. Strands, matted with dirt and dried blood, stuck to her pale cheeks, leaving streaks of crimson against her skin. Her face, what little was visible, was gaunt, etched with the lines of exhaustion and suffering. Her eyes, when they flickered open, were dull and unfocused, the light extinguished within them.

Her dress was like a tattered rag, torn and ripped at the seams, stained with the mud of a deep, rich brown, and flecked with the darker, grimmer stains of dried blood. The fabric clung to her thin frame, revealing the sharp angles of her bones beneath. Her bare feet, small and delicate in contrast to the rest of her, were a gruesome sight; a network of cuts and abrasions, some shallow, others deep and bleeding, marred the skin, a testament to a long and arduous journey.

With practice caution, he retrieved the dagger clutched in her lifeless grip, sheathing it at his back.

Elvin, ever the pragmatist, intervened. He gently placed a finger beneath the girl's nose. "She's not. She's breathing."

Hector's irritation flared. "What are you doing? You fool! That's reckless. What if she bites your arm off?" He irritably thumped his head, the gesture betraying his frustration.

Elvin, unfazed by Hector's outburst, merely glared at him, swatting away his hand before returning his attention to the girl. Her eyes were open, yet a chilling emptiness seemed to inhabit their depths, a stark absence of emotional response. He attempted to gently brush away the matted hair obscuring her face, but before his fingers could even reach her, she slumped, collapsing onto the ground.

"She's dead," Hector repeated, his neck craning as he peered down at the still form.

"Will you stop?" Elvin snapped, his patience wearing thin. The urgency in his voice was palpable.

"We need to get back to the wagon," Hector insisted, his tone brooking no argument. The seriousness in his voice silenced Elvin, effectively stifling any further protest.

***

Ysabel's eyes snapped open, the world blurring into focus as she sat bolt upright. A wave of exhaustion surged through her, leaving her limbs heavy and trembling. Her gaze darted around the unfamiliar space, her eyes wide and filled with a bone-deep weariness. Her chest heaved, each ragged breath a painful reminder of the ordeal she was still in.

Ysabel swallowed hard, attempting to dislodge the suffocating lump in her throat, but the air felt so thin and insufficient, each inhale a desperate struggle. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat echoing the terror that still clung to her.

"Hey, you need to take it easy,"

A male voice intruded, jarring her from the immediate aftermath of her trauma. The sound, rough and unfamiliar, triggered an instant, primal response. Fear, raw and visceral, seized her. She had to escape; she had to run. The image of the endless forest, its suffocating darkness, and unseen dangers flooded her mind. She had to get out, no matter the cost, no matter how long it took.

She tried to stand, to flee, but a strong hand clamped down on her shoulder, pinning her to her ground. The sudden pressure intensified her panic.

"Calm down,"

Another voice said, this one gentler, more measured, but its words were lost in the storm raging within her. Ysabel remained trapped in the relentless nightmare of the forest, alone and vulnerable, battling for survival, desperately trying to outrun the relentless grip of death.

Two large hands, calloused and strong, cupped her face, a gentle restraint that felt like a vise. "Look at me,"

A voice, deep, sharp, and laced with impatience, commanded. The hands, though seemingly gentle, felt like iron bands, holding her captive, both physically and mentally.

A cold wave of terror washed over her, freezing her in place. The realization struck her with the force of a physical blow: Commander Tahl. He had found her. Her terrified eyes, finally surrendering to the inevitable, met the gaze of her captor. The forest, with its looming shadows and hidden dangers, was momentarily forgotten as the chilling reality of her capture settled upon her.