The Crimson Reckoning
The crimson tide rolled onward, its momentum unrelenting as the warriors of Skull Mountain pressed deeper into lands untouched by their wrath. Each step they took seemed to echo with the weight of inevitability, as if the earth itself recoiled beneath their boots. Yet amidst the destruction and despair, cracks began to form—not in the mountain's resolve, but within the ranks of those who served it.
Eira walked among them now, her presence quieter than before yet charged with a simmering tension. She had crossed a line when she helped the young woman and her child escape Ember Glen, and though Red-Eye hadn't discovered her betrayal, the act had left an indelible mark on her soul. Every glance from Kael, every smirk from Mira, felt like a silent accusation waiting to be voiced. But more than fear of exposure, Eira was consumed by a growing certainty: she could no longer stand idly by while innocent lives were extinguished.
Her thoughts churned endlessly, replaying fragments of battles past and envisioning futures that might never come to pass. Could she truly defy Red-Eye? And if so, how far would she have to go? These questions haunted her, gnawing at the edges of her resolve even as she prepared for what lay ahead.
---
The next target loomed large on the horizon—a sprawling fortress carved into the cliffs overlooking a roaring river. Known as Ironhold, it was a bastion of strength and resilience, its walls reinforced with steel and its defenders renowned for their skill in combat. Scouts reported seeing banners bearing the sigil of a black wolf fluttering atop the battlements, a symbol of unity among the scattered settlements that had banded together to resist Skull Mountain's advance.
Red-Eye surveyed the fortress from a ridge miles away, his scarred face unreadable as always. "They think they're untouchable," he growled, his voice low and laced with venom. "Let's prove them wrong."
Kael stood beside him, studying the fortress with a mixture of admiration and unease. "This won't be easy," he admitted cautiously. "Their defenses are formidable. A direct assault will cost us dearly."
"Then we adapt," Red-Eye replied curtly, his glowing eyes narrowing as he turned to Mira. "Take your team and scout the perimeter. Find their weak points—supply lines, water sources, anything we can exploit. Kael, prepare the men for battle. We strike at dawn."
"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 tone leaving no room for argument. "I need you where I can see you."
Eira nodded stiffly, forcing herself to meet his gaze. Whatever suspicions he harbored about her, she couldn't afford to give him reason to act on them—not yet.
---
As night fell, the warriors made camp in a secluded valley hidden from view of Ironhold's watchful eyes. Fires crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the rocky terrain. The air was thick with tension, each warrior preparing mentally for the battle to come. Some sharpened their blades in silence, while others whispered prayers or curses under their breath.
Eira sat apart from the group, her back against a jagged boulder as she stared into the flames. Her mind raced with possibilities, each one more dangerous than the last. If she were to act, it would have to be soon—before they reached Ironhold, before more lives were lost. But how? And who could she trust?
Kael approached her quietly, lowering himself onto the ground beside her. His crimson eyes studied her face, searching for something he couldn't quite name. "You've been distant," he said finally, his voice barely audible over the crackling fire. "What's troubling you?"
Eira hesitated, weighing her words carefully. "Do you ever wonder… if this is right?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. "If what we're doing serves any purpose beyond destruction?"
Kael frowned, his expression darkening. "Purpose isn't ours to question," he replied firmly. "We follow orders. That's all there is."
"But what if the orders are wrong?" Eira pressed, her voice rising despite her efforts to keep it steady. "What if Red-Eye's path leads only to ruin—for everyone?"
Before Kael could respond, a sharp whistle pierced the air. Mira emerged from the shadows, her dagger gleaming faintly in the firelight. "Enough talk," she snapped, her tone dripping with mockery. "Save your doubts for someone who cares."
Eira clenched her jaw, forcing herself to remain calm. Whatever doubts she harbored would have to wait; survival demanded her full attention.
---
At dawn, the attack began. The warriors surged forward under cover of mist, their crimson eyes glowing like embers in the pale light. Arrows rained down from the battlements, striking true and sending warriors stumbling back. Catapults launched flaming projectiles that shattered barricades and ignited fires along the outer walls. 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 Ironhold 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 fortress 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.