Chapter 16: Time And Change

Elia stumbled through the burning ruins of Veywick, her breath ragged and her body aching. The village was gone—nothing but ash and smoke.

She hid behind a crumbling wall, her heart pounding as she listened to the footsteps of Black Sun Syndicate soldiers nearby.

They're still here. They're looking for survivors. She clenched her fists, trying to steady her breathing.

The ground was littered with bodies—villagers and Syndicate members alike. It wasn't just a massacre. It was a battle. But we lost. Everyone lost.

She heard voices. Syndicate soldiers were talking about Raen's capture. Her chest tightened.

Raen's alive? But where is he now? She wanted to scream, to run after them, but she knew it was hopeless.

She was alone, injured, and unarmed. I have to survive. I can't help anyone if I'm dead.

Elia's eyes darted around the wreckage, searching for anything she could use to defend herself.

She spotted a dead Syndicate soldier nearby. His weapon—a short blade—was still in his hand.

She crawled over, her movements slow and careful, trying not to make a sound. The ground was rough beneath her hands, and the smell of smoke and blood filled her nose.

When she reached the soldier, she hesitated. His lifeless eyes stared up at the sky, and for a moment, she felt a pang of guilt. He's just a soldier. Maybe he didn't want to do this either.

But then she remembered the screams of the villagers, the flames consuming everything she knew. She grabbed the blade, her fingers tightening around the hilt. I don't have a choice.

The weight of the blade felt strange in her hand, but it gave her a sliver of hope. She crouched low, staying in the shadows as she moved toward the edge of the village.

The Syndicate soldiers were still close, their voices carrying through the ruins. Elia's heart raced as she crept past broken walls and smoldering debris. Just a little further. Just get to the woods.

She was almost there when she heard a shout. "There! A survivor!"

Her heart leapt into her throat. She didn't look back. She ran.

The Syndicate hunters were fast, their footsteps crashing behind her as she sprinted toward the ashen woods.

The trees loomed ahead, their twisted branches offering some hope of cover. Elia's legs burned with every step, but she pushed herself harder. I can't stop. If they catch me, I'm dead.

She reached the tree line and darted between the trunks, her small size and agility helping her stay ahead. But the hunters were relentless.

She could hear their voices, sharp and commanding, as they closed in. "Don't let her get away! She's just a kid, but she's seen too much!"

Elia's mind raced. They're not going to stop. They'll chase me until they catch me. She gripped the blade tighter, her knuckles white. I won't let them take me alive.

The woods were dense, the ground uneven and littered with roots and rocks. Elia stumbled more than once, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

She could feel her strength fading, but she forced herself to keep moving. Just a little further. Just a little further.

The hunters were gaining on her. She could hear their footsteps, closer now, and the occasional snap of a branch as they closed the distance.

Elia's chest burned, and her vision blurred with exhaustion. She ducked behind a tree, pressing herself against the rough bark as she tried to catch her breath. Think, Elia. Think!

She glanced around, her eyes scanning the shadows. There—a narrow gap between two large rocks. It was small, but maybe she could squeeze through.

She darted toward it, her movements quick and silent. The hunters were close now, their voices loud and urgent. "She went this way! Spread out!"

Elia slipped through the gap, her body scraping against the rocks. She winced but didn't stop.

On the other side, the ground sloped downward into a shallow ravine. She slid down the slope, her hands scraping against the dirt and stones. At the bottom, she crouched low, listening.

The hunters were above her now, their voices muffled by the rocks. "Where did she go?" one of them growled. "She couldn't have just disappeared!"

Elia held her breath, her heart pounding in her ears. She clutched the blade tightly, ready to fight if they found her. But the hunters moved on, their footsteps fading into the distance.

Elia stayed hidden for what felt like hours, her body trembling with exhaustion and fear.

When she was sure the hunters were gone, she finally let herself breathe. She slumped against the rocks, her legs giving out beneath her. I made it. For now.

But the relief was short-lived. She was alone, injured, and far from safety.

The woods were vast, and the Syndicate would be searching for her. I can't stay here. I have to keep moving.

She forced herself to stand, her legs shaking beneath her. The blade in her hand felt heavier now, but it was the only thing keeping her going. I'll find a way out of this. I have to.

As she stumbled through the woods, her thoughts turned to Raen. Where are you? Are you alive?

She didn't know if she'd ever see him again, but she clung to the hope that he was out there somewhere. If I can survive this, maybe I'll find you. Maybe we'll both make it through.

But deep down, she couldn't shake the fear. What if I don't? What if this is where it ends?

---

Elia's legs gave out beneath her, and she collapsed to the ground. She was so tired, so hungry.

She hadn't eaten in days, and her body was screaming for rest. But she couldn't stop. She had to keep moving.

She forced herself to stand, her legs shaking beneath her. The blade in her hand felt heavier now, but it was the only thing keeping her going. I'll find a way out of this. I have to.

But as she stumbled through the woods, she heard a twig snap behind her. She spun around, her heart pounding in her chest.

A Syndicate soldier stood there, his sword drawn and a cruel smile on his face.

"Well, well, well," he said. "What do we have here? A little mouse, trying to escape?"

Elia's grip tightened on the blade, but she knew she was no match for him. She was just a kid, and he was a trained soldier. I'm going to die here.

The soldier stepped closer, his sword gleaming in the dim light. "You've caused us a lot of trouble, little mouse. But it's over now."

Elia's vision blurred with tears, but she refused to cry. I won't give him the satisfaction. She raised the blade, her hands shaking. I'll fight. Even if it's hopeless.

But before she could move, the soldier struck her with the hilt of his sword. Pain exploded in her head, and everything went black.

When she woke up, she was in a cage. The bars were cold against her skin, and the air smelled of sweat and fear. She was in a slaver's caravan, bound and helpless. Other captives sat in cages around her, their eyes hollow and hopeless.

The slavers talked about her as if she were an object. "This one's young, but she's got fire. She'll fetch a good price."

Elia's stomach churned. They're going to sell me. Like I'm nothing.

Days passed. The caravan moved slowly, stopping in towns where captives were sold off one by one.

Elia watched as others were taken away, their faces blank with despair. Is this my fate? To be sold to someone who'll use me until I'm broken?

---

The caravan rattled along the rough road, the sound of creaking wheels and clinking chains filling the air. Elia sat huddled in her cage, her knees pulled tight to her chest.

The other captives around her were silent, their faces hollow and eyes distant. She stared at the ground, her mind numb. This is it. This is where I end.

But then, in the dead of night, everything changed.

The caravan came to a sudden halt, the horses whinnying in alarm. Elia's head snapped up, her heart pounding. What's happening? She heard shouts outside, the clash of steel, and the sound of bodies hitting the ground.

The captives around her stirred, their eyes wide with fear and hope.

Elia pressed herself against the bars, trying to see what was going on. Shadows moved in the darkness, swift and silent. Are they bandits? Or… someone else?

One of the slavers ran past her cage, his face pale with terror. Before he could get far, a figure stepped out of the shadows and cut him down.

Elia's breath caught in her throat. The figure was dressed in dark clothing, their face hidden behind a mask. They moved like a ghost, their blade flashing in the moonlight.

The masked figure turned toward the cages, their eyes scanning the captives. When their gaze landed on Elia, she froze.

Are they here to save us? Or are they just here to kill the slavers?

The figure approached her cage, their movements calm and deliberate. They knelt down, their eyes meeting hers. "You've got spirit," they said, their voice low and steady.

"But spirit alone won't save you. You have two choices: die here, or join us and learn to fight."

Elia's mind raced. Die here, or become one of them? She thought of Veywick, of the people she'd lost. She thought of Raen, wherever he was. I can't die here. Not yet.

"I'll join you," she said, her voice trembling but firm.

The masked figure nodded. "Good choice."

---

Elia was taken to a hidden stronghold, deep in the mountains. The place was unlike anything she'd ever seen—dark, cold, and filled with people who moved like shadows.

She was given a small room, a set of clothes, and a blade. This is my new life now.

The training was brutal. Every day, she was pushed to her limits—running, climbing, fighting.

Her body ached, and her hands were raw from holding the blade. But she didn't complain. She couldn't. This is what I chose. This is how I survive.

Her instructors were harsh, but they saw potential in her. "You're small," one of them said, "but you're fast. Use that to your advantage."

Elia listened, her determination growing with each passing day. I'll get stronger. I'll learn to fight. And I'll make them pay.

---

Weeks turned into months, and Elia's skills grew. She was no longer the scared girl who had stumbled through the ruins of Veywick. She was becoming something else—something dangerous.

One night, she was called to the leader's chamber.

The masked figure who had rescued her sat at a large table, their eyes sharp and calculating. "You've done well," they said. "But training is one thing. Real combat is another. Are you ready for your first mission?"

Elia's heart raced, but she nodded. This is what I've been training for.

The mission was simple: infiltrate a Syndicate-aligned city and assassinate the executioners. They're the ones who carry out the Major Syndicate's orders. If we take them out, we weaken their hold.

Elia's stomach churned at the thought of killing, but she pushed the fear aside. This is what I have to do. This is how I fight back.

---

The night of the mission, Elia stood on a rooftop, overlooking the city square. The executioners were below, preparing for another public execution. The crowd was restless, their murmurs filling the air.

Elia's heart pounded, but her hands were steady. This is it. My first mission.

She took a deep breath, her eyes narrowing as she focused on the task ahead. I wasn't strong enough to save them then. I will never be weak again.

As the executioners raised their blades, Elia moved. She was a shadow, swift and silent, her blade flashing in the moonlight.

The executioners fell one by one, their bodies crumpling to the ground. The crowd erupted in chaos, but Elia didn't stop. She moved with precision, her mind focused on the mission.

When it was over, she stood in the center of the square, her chest heaving and her blade dripping with blood.

The bodies of the executioners lay at her feet, their masks shattered and their eyes wide with shock.

Elia's expression was unreadable as she looked down at them. This is what it means to fight for something greater. This is what it means to survive.

But deep down, a flicker of doubt lingered. How many more will die before this is over? How many more lives will I take?

She pushed the thought aside, hardening her resolve. This is just the beginning. The real fight is still ahead.

And as the stars shimmered above, Elia disappeared into the night.