Chapter 11: Hopeless

The dust settled slowly, the air thick with the smell of crushed stone and dirt. Raen stood panting, his body trembling from the effort of bringing down the rocks on Eryn. The rubble pile was massive, a mountain of debris that should have buried anyone beneath it.

Did I… did I get him?

Raen's chest heaved as he stared at the pile, his mind racing. He had used the last of his strength to collapse the ceiling, hoping it would be enough to stop Eryn. For a moment, there was silence.

Then, a low rumble.

Raen's eyes widened as the rubble began to shift. Small stones rolled down the pile, followed by larger ones. A crack formed in the center of the debris, and then, with a deafening explosion, the rocks burst outward.

Eryn emerged, unharmed.

His clothes were torn, and dust clung to his skin, but he stood tall, his expression calm and unbothered. The ground around him was littered with shattered stone, as if he had simply brushed the rubble aside.

Raen's heart sank.

No… how is he still standing?

Eryn's eyes locked onto Raen's, and Raen felt a chill run down his spine. There was no anger in Eryn's gaze, no emotion at all. Just cold, calculating focus.

"Is that all you've got?" Eryn asked, his voice calm but cutting.

Raen clenched his fists, trying to steady himself, but his legs wobbled beneath him. He was exhausted, and Eryn knew it.

I can't stop now. I have to keep fighting.

Raen lunged forward, swinging his weapon with all the strength he had left. Eryn sidestepped effortlessly, as if he had already known where Raen would strike.

How is he so fast?

Raen tried again, this time aiming lower, but Eryn blocked the attack with a single hand, his expression unreadable.

"Pathetic," Eryn muttered, shoving Raen back with a flick of his wrist.

Raen's heart pounded in his chest. He was giving it everything he had, but it wasn't enough.

I can't lose. Not here. Not like this.

Desperate, Raen called upon Sol, the power that had always been his last resort. The energy surged within him, wild and uncontrollable. He tried to focus it, to direct it at Eryn, but his control was shaky.

"Sol, please… work this time," Raen whispered, his voice trembling.

The power backfired, exploding in his hands and sending him flying backward. He hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the air out of his lungs. Pain shot through his body, and he groaned, struggling to push himself up.

Why… why can't I control it?

Eryn didn't give him a chance to recover. In an instant, he was there, standing over Raen like a shadow of death.

"You're weak," Eryn said, his voice devoid of emotion. "And weakness has no place here."

Raen barely had time to react before Eryn's foot came down on his leg with a sickening crunch. Raen screamed as the bone twisted unnaturally, the pain blinding.

It hurts… it hurts so much.

But Eryn wasn't done. With a brutal strike, he shattered Raen's other leg, leaving him unable to stand.

"Stop… please…" Raen begged, his voice barely a whisper.

Eryn ignored him. He grabbed Raen's arm and twisted it with a force that made Raen's stomach turn. The sound of tearing flesh and snapping bone echoed in his ears, and his arm went limp, hanging uselessly at his side.

I can't move… I can't fight back.

Raen collapsed onto the ground, his body broken and bleeding. He could barely think, barely breathe. The pain was overwhelming, and he felt himself slipping into darkness.

Eryn stood over him, his weapon raised for the final blow.

"This is the end," Eryn said, his voice cold and final.

Raen closed his eyes, bracing himself for the end.

I'm sorry… I couldn't do it. I couldn't win.

But the blow never came.

Raen's vision blurred as he lay on the ground, his body broken and bleeding. He could barely hear Eryn's cold voice over the ringing in his ears.

This is it… I'm going to die here.

Eryn's weapon gleamed in the dim light as he raised it for the final strike. Raen closed his eyes, bracing himself for the end.

But the strike never came.

A sudden gust of wind swept through the battlefield, and Raen heard the sound of footsteps—light, deliberate, and unshakably confident. He forced his eyes open, squinting through the haze of pain.

A figure stood between him and Eryn, his back to Raen. The man was tall, his posture relaxed but commanding. He wore a hood that obscured his face, but his presence was undeniable.

Who… is that?

Eryn paused, his weapon still raised. His cold eyes narrowed as he studied the newcomer.

"And who are you?" Eryn asked, his voice dripping with disdain.

The man didn't answer. Instead, he glanced down at Raen, his expression hidden but his tone calm and reassuring.

"You've done enough," the man said. "Rest now."

Raen's breath hitched. He's here to help me?

Eryn's lips curled into a sneer. "You think you can save him? How noble."

The man ignored Eryn, bending down to scoop Raen up with surprising ease. Raen winced as pain shot through his broken body, but the man's grip was firm yet gentle.

"Hold on," the man said quietly. "This might hurt."

Before Raen could respond, Eryn lunged forward, his weapon slicing through the air with deadly precision. The man moved faster than Raen could follow, dodging the strike with inhuman agility.

What… what just happened?

The man shifted Raen's weight to one arm and raised his free hand. A faint glow surrounded his fingers, and suddenly, Raen felt a strange pull, as if the air itself was bending to the man's will.

"Tether Manipulation," the man muttered, his voice calm but focused.

In an instant, they were moving—not running, but being pulled through the air as if by invisible strings. Raen's stomach churned as the world blurred around him.

Eryn's voice echoed behind them, sharp and furious. "You think you can escape me?!"

The man didn't respond. He moved with precision, weaving through the battlefield and dodging Eryn's attacks with ease. But Eryn was relentless. He closed the distance between them, his strikes growing faster and more brutal.

Raen's savior grunted as one of Eryn's attacks grazed his side, leaving a deep gash. Blood seeped through his clothes, but he didn't falter.

He's hurt… because of me.

"Put me down," Raen croaked, his voice weak. "You'll die if you keep carrying me."

The man shook his head. "Not an option."

Eryn's next strike came too fast to dodge. The man twisted his body, shielding Raen from the blow, but the impact sent them both crashing to the ground.

Raen cried out as pain exploded through his broken limbs, but the man was already back on his feet, his breathing heavy but his resolve unshaken.

"We need to go. Now," the man said, his voice firm.

He raised his hand again, and the air around them shimmered. Raen felt the pull of the Tether Manipulation once more, and they were moving again, faster this time.

Eryn's voice faded into the distance, but his anger was palpable. "You can't run forever!"

The man didn't look back. He carried Raen through the ruins, his movements swift and deliberate. As they rounded a corner, a group of figures emerged from the shadows—a towering warrior with a massive axe, a woman with a bow, and several others.

"Kieran!" the woman called out, her voice urgent. "What's the plan?"

Kieran… so that's his name.

Kieran didn't stop. "We retreat. Now."

The giant warrior frowned. "But the mission—"

"Forget the mission," Kieran interrupted, his voice sharp. "We're not dying here. Move!"

The team didn't argue. They fell in line behind Kieran, their movements quick and coordinated. Raen's head spun as they ran, the pain in his body making it hard to focus.

Why are they helping me? Who are these people?

Kieran's grip tightened as they reached the edge of the ruins. He glanced back once, his hood shifting just enough for Raen to catch a glimpse of his face—calm, determined, and utterly fearless.

"We're not out of this yet," Kieran said, his voice low. "But we will be."

Raen wanted to ask more, but the pain and exhaustion were too much. His vision darkened, and he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness.

The last thing he heard was Kieran's voice, steady and reassuring.

"You're safe now."

---

Raen's consciousness drifted in and out, like a leaf caught in a gentle stream. The pain in his body faded, replaced by a strange, weightless sensation. He wasn't sure if he was awake or dreaming, but the world around him felt… different.

Where… am I?

As his vision cleared, he found himself standing in front of a cracked, dusty mirror. His reflection stared back at him, and Raen froze.

The person in the mirror looked like a stranger. His black hair was matted with dirt and blood, sticking to his forehead in messy clumps.

His face was bruised and swollen, one eye nearly shut from the swelling. His green eyes, usually bright and determined, were dull and hollow, framed by dark circles. His clothes were torn and stained, and his body was littered with cuts and bruises.

Raen's breath hitched as he took in the sight.

Is that… me?

He leaned closer to the mirror, his hand trembling as he reached out to touch the glass. The reflection mimicked his movement, and Raen flinched.

"I look… terrible," he muttered, his voice hoarse and barely audible.

He couldn't believe this was the same person who had been fighting just moments ago. The same person who had faced Eryn, who had tried to stand his ground despite the odds.

How did I even manage to fight like this?

The thought made him laugh, a bitter, hollow sound that echoed in the empty space.

"I'm a mess," he said, his voice cracking. "No wonder I lost. Who could take someone like this seriously?"

He stared at his reflection for a long moment, his chest tightening with a mix of shame and disbelief.

I was fighting people while looking like this. No wonder Eryn didn't even break a sweat.

The mirror began to blur, the image of his battered face fading into the background. Raen blinked, and suddenly, he was no longer in front of the mirror.

The darkness gave way to light, and Raen found himself standing in a place he hadn't seen in years—Veywick.

The village was just as he remembered it. The amberwood trees swayed gently in the breeze, their golden leaves shimmering in the sunlight. The air was filled with the scent of sap and fresh earth, and the sound of laughter echoed in the distance.

This… this is home.

Raen's heart ached as he looked around. The village was alive, untouched by war or destruction. Children ran through the streets, their laughter ringing in his ears. Merchants called out to passersby, their stalls filled with goods. It was peaceful. It was perfect.

And then he saw her.

A young girl stood near the edge of the village, her back to him. She was small, with messy hair that stuck out in every direction. She wore a simple dress, its hem stained with dirt from playing outside.

No… it can't be.

Raen's breath caught in his throat. He knew that girl. He knew her better than anyone.

"Elia…" he whispered, his voice trembling.

The girl turned, and Raen's heart shattered. It was her. His sister. Elia Solmere. Her face was just as he remembered—bright eyes, a mischievous smile, and a smudge of dirt on her cheek.

"Elia!" he called out, louder this time.

But she didn't seem to hear him. She turned away, running toward the amberwood groves. Raen tried to follow, but his legs wouldn't move.

Wait! Don't go!

He struggled against the invisible force holding him back, but it was no use. Elia disappeared into the trees, her laughter fading into the distance.

Raen's chest tightened.

I forgot about her. How could I forget about her?

The scene shifted, and Raen was no longer in the village. He was standing in his childhood home, the smell of breakfast filling the air. His mother stood by the stove, humming softly as she cooked. His father sat at the table, sharpening his tools for the day's work.

And there was Elia, still in her messy dress, groaning as their mother nudged her awake.

"Come on, sleepyhead," their mother said, her voice warm and teasing. "The day's already started."

Elia groaned again, burying her face in her blanket. "Five more minutes…"

Raen's father chuckled, setting down his tools. "You're just like your brother. Always late."

Raen's heart ached as he watched them. He had forgotten this. He had forgotten how peaceful it was. How happy they were.

The scene shifted again, and Raen was outside, running through the amberwood groves with his friends. Elia was there too, trailing behind them, her laughter ringing in his ears.

"Raen, wait for me!" she called out, her voice full of mock frustration.

He turned, grinning. "Keep up, slowpoke!"

The memory was so vivid, so real. Raen could almost feel the sun on his skin, the wind in his hair.

But then the sky darkened, and the laughter turned to screams.

Raen's breath hitched as the scene shifted once more. The village was burning. The amberwood trees were reduced to ash, and the streets were filled with smoke and chaos.

"No… no, no, no!" Raen cried, his voice breaking.

He tried to run, to do something, but he was frozen in place. He could only watch as the flames consumed everything he loved.

And then he saw her again.

Elia stood in the middle of the chaos, her small figure silhouetted against the flames. She turned to him, her eyes wide with fear.

"Raen… help me!"

Raen's heart shattered. He reached out, desperate to save her, but she was too far away. The flames swallowed her, and she was gone.

"Elia!" he screamed, his voice raw with pain.

The dream warped, and Raen was falling, the flames and screams fading into darkness. He jolted awake, his body drenched in sweat.

---

Raen's eyes fluttered open, his vision blurry and unfocused. The first thing he noticed was the pain—sharp, throbbing pain radiating from his legs and arm. He groaned, his voice hoarse and weak, as he tried to sit up.

Where… am I?

The air was cool and damp, the faint scent of earth and moss filling his nostrils. He blinked, his vision slowly adjusting to the dim light. A single lantern flickered nearby, casting long shadows on the rough stone walls of a cave.

A cave? How did I get here?

Memories flooded back in fragments—Eryn's merciless attacks, the crushing defeat, and then… Kieran. The man who had appeared out of nowhere, who had carried him away from certain death.

Raen turned his head, wincing at the stiffness in his neck. A few feet away, Kieran sat against the cave wall, his hood pulled back to reveal a face that was both calm and composed. He was eating an apple, the crisp sound of each bite echoing softly in the quiet space.

Raen stared at him, his mind struggling to process the scene.

Kieran noticed Raen's gaze and glanced over, his expression unreadable. "You're awake," he said simply, taking another bite of the apple.

Raen opened his mouth to speak, but his throat was dry, and the words came out as a croak. "Where… are we?"

Kieran chewed slowly, his eyes never leaving Raen's. "Somewhere safe. For now."

Raen's brow furrowed. "The trial… what happened?"

Kieran set the apple core down and leaned back against the cave wall. "We're out. Disqualified."

Raen's heart sank. "Disqualified? But… how?"

Kieran shrugged, his tone matter-of-fact. "We left the trial grounds. Rules are rules."

Raen's mind raced. He had fought so hard, endured so much, only to be disqualified. The weight of failure pressed heavily on his chest.

"Why… why did you do it?" Raen asked, his voice trembling. "You could've stayed. You could've won."

Kieran raised an eyebrow, as if the question amused him. "And let you die? Not my style."

Raen looked away, guilt gnawing at him. "I wasn't worth it. I… I couldn't even fight back."

Kieran was silent for a moment, his gaze steady. "You're alive. That's what matters."

Raen didn't respond. He wanted to argue, to tell Kieran that he was wrong, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, he lay there, staring at the flickering lantern, his mind a storm of regret and confusion.

Kieran stood, brushing off his clothes. "Get some rest. We'll move again soon."

Raen watched as Kieran walked toward the cave entrance, his figure silhouetted against the dim light. For a moment, he wanted to call out, to ask more questions, but he couldn't find the strength.

Instead, he closed his eyes, letting the silence settle over him.

Disqualified…

The word echoed in his mind, a bitter reminder of his failure. But beneath the guilt and regret, a small part of him felt relief.

He was alive. And for now, that was enough.