The Crimson Divide
The journey eastward resumed under the pale light of dawn, the warriors of Skull Mountain marching with grim determination. Their crimson eyes glowed faintly in the mist that clung to the valleys, their footsteps echoing across the barren landscape like a funeral dirge. Each step carried them closer to their next target—a fortified town perched on the edge of a vast lake, its reflection shimmering ominously in the distance. It was said to be one of the largest settlements in the region, its people well-armed and fiercely independent. But none of that mattered to Red-Eye. To him, it was just another obstacle to crush, another piece of the prophecy's puzzle to claim.
Eira walked near the rear of the group, her mind a storm of conflicting thoughts. The memory of the young woman and her child lingered like a ghost, haunting her every waking moment. She had betrayed Red-Eye—not openly, but enough to plant a seed of doubt within herself. Could she do it again? Would she survive if she tried? These questions churned inside her, gnawing at her resolve yet fueling a fragile hope that perhaps, just perhaps, there was a way out of this nightmare.
Kael noticed her unease, his sharp gaze catching the subtle tension in her posture. He slowed his pace to match hers, falling into step beside her as the group trudged along a narrow ridge overlooking the lake. "You're different," he observed quietly, his voice barely audible over the crunch of gravel beneath their boots. "What happened back there?"
Eira hesitated, her grip tightening on the hilt of her blade. "Nothing," she replied evasively, though her tone lacked conviction. "Just… tired."
Kael frowned slightly, his crimson eyes narrowing as he studied her face. "Don't lie to me," he said, his voice low but firm. "I've seen the way you fight—or don't. Something's changed."
Before Eira could respond, Mira's sharp voice cut through the quiet. "Keep moving! We don't have time for idle chatter!"
Eira clenched her jaw, forcing herself to focus on the path ahead. Whatever doubts she harbored would have to wait; survival demanded her full attention.
---
By midday, the town came into view—a sprawling expanse of stone walls and timbered roofs nestled against the edge of the lake. Unlike the villages they had razed before, this settlement bristled with defenses: watchtowers lined the perimeter, armed guards patrolled the streets, and banners bearing the emblem of a silver fish fluttered in the breeze. It was clear that the townsfolk were prepared for war.
Red-Eye halted the group at the edge of a forest overlooking the town, his scarred face unreadable as he studied the scene below. "They think they're safe behind those walls," he growled, his voice dripping with disdain. "Let's show them how wrong they are."
"What's the plan, my lord?" Kael asked, stepping forward to join him. His crimson eyes darted toward the fortifications, assessing weak points and potential threats.
"We split them," Red-Eye replied simply, raising his massive axe. "Mira, take your team and circle around to the south. Create a diversion—draw their forces away from the gates. Kael, you lead the frontal assault. Once they're distracted, we strike hard and fast."
"And me?" Eira asked suddenly, stepping forward despite the knot of dread tightening in her stomach. All eyes turned to her, but it was Red-Eye's gaze that held her captive, burning into her with an intensity that made her skin prickle.
"You stay close," he ordered, his voice low and dangerous. "I have plans for you."
Eira swallowed hard, forcing herself to nod. Whatever those plans were, she knew better than to question them—not here, not now. But the unease gnawing at her grew sharper, a reminder that time was running out.
---
As night fell, the attack began. Torches lit up the valley as Red-Eye's forces surged forward, their crimson eyes glowing like embers in the darkness. Arrows rained down from the cliffs, striking true and sending warriors stumbling back. Catapults launched boulders that shattered barricades and crushed attackers alike. Despite the chaos, the defenders held firm, their cries of defiance ringing out across the battlefield.
Eira fought alongside Kael, her blade flashing as she parried strikes and countered with brutal efficiency. Yet with each swing, her resolve wavered. She saw fear in the eyes of the villagers—not just fear of death, but fear of losing everything they held dear. It mirrored her own fear, buried deep within her chest, and it fueled a growing sense of shame.
Amidst the carnage, Kael noticed her hesitation. "Focus!" he snapped, deflecting an arrow meant for her head. "If you falter now, you'll get us both killed!"
"I'm fine!" Eira retorted, though her voice lacked conviction. She forced herself to push forward, cutting down another villager who lunged at her with a pitchfork. But as the man fell, clutching his wound, she hesitated again, her blade trembling in her hand.
Before she could dwell on it further, a deafening roar echoed through the valley. From the cliffs above, Mira's team descended like vengeful spirits, their weapons gleaming in the firelight as they cut through the defenders' rear lines. Panic spread among the villagers, their ranks breaking as they scrambled to regroup.
"Now!" Red-Eye bellowed, raising his axe high. With a thunderous cry, the warriors surged forward, overwhelming the remaining defenders. The battle shifted swiftly in their favor, the tide of crimson washing over Ember Glen like a flood.
Yet amidst the chaos, Eira spotted a figure darting through the shadows—a young woman carrying a bundle in her arms. She moved with purpose, slipping past the fighting and heading toward the edge of the village. Something about her urgency caught Eira's attention, and without thinking, she followed.
---
The woman ducked into a small stone cottage, slamming the door shut behind her. Eira hesitated outside, her heart pounding wildly. She glanced over her shoulder, ensuring no one was watching, then slipped inside.
Inside, the room was dimly lit by a single candle. The woman crouched near a hidden trapdoor, whispering soothing words to the bundle in her arms—a baby, no older than a few months. When she noticed Eira, her eyes widened in terror.
"Please…" the woman begged, clutching the child tighter. "Don't hurt him. Take me instead, but spare my son."
Eira froze, her blade hanging limply at her side. For a moment, all she could hear was the distant clamor of battle and the soft whimpers of the infant. Then, slowly, she lowered her weapon.
"I'm not here to hurt you," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "But you can't stay here. They'll find you."
The woman stared at her, disbelief warring with hope in her tear-filled eyes. "Why are you helping me?"
Eira didn't answer immediately. Instead, she glanced toward the trapdoor, motioning for the woman to open it. "Go," she urged. "Take your son and run. Don't look back."
"But—"
"There's no time!" Eira interrupted, her tone sharp with urgency. "Trust me, or don't, but leave now!"
The woman hesitated for a heartbeat longer, then nodded, pulling the trapdoor open and disappearing into the darkness below. Eira watched her go, her chest tight with conflicting emotions. She had just committed an act of betrayal—one that could cost her life if discovered. But for the first time in what felt like forever, she felt a flicker of control over her fate.
---
When Eira returned to the battlefield, the village was in ruins. Bodies littered the streets, and flames consumed the remnants of homes and shops. Red-Eye stood in the center of the devastation, his axe dripping with blood as he surveyed the carnage. His gaze landed on Eira, narrowing slightly as he studied her expression.
"Where were you?" he demanded, his voice cold and suspicious.
"I… I was clearing the outskirts," Eira lied, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "Making sure none escaped."
Red-Eye stared at her for a long moment, his crimson eyes boring into hers as if searching for the truth. Finally, he nodded, seemingly satisfied—for now. "Good. Gather the survivors. We leave at dawn."
As the warriors regrouped, Eira lingered at the edge of the ruins, her mind racing. The seed of defiance she had planted earlier had taken root, sprouting fragile tendrils of hope. She knew the path ahead would be fraught with danger, but she also knew one thing for certain:
She couldn't keep following Red-Eye blindly. Not anymore.
And somewhere in the shadows, unbeknownst to anyone, the young woman and her child fled into the night, carrying with them the faintest glimmer of resistance against the crimson tide.
The nightmare continued—but so did the dream of freedom.