Chapter 6: The Confidant Wrath
Mela journeyed westward, her body healing from recent battles. In the forest, she moved with grace, her crimson hair very striking against the dark foliage. Each step was a testament to her survival skills—hunting and foraging. Yet, the serene rush of a nearby waterfall belied the turmoil within. Resting beside it, Mela reviewed her path of destruction: Bandits, Riven, Knights like Adrian and Maziel. Each conquest had done little to quell the emptiness inside her.
Her eyes, once fierce with battle, now mirrored the calm pool before her—sapphire blue, hiding the conflict within. The forest was both sanctuary and prison, its trees whispering secrets as her mind wrestled with doubts. Was she seeking justice or merely feeding a relentless thirst for violence? The weight of her choices loomed heavily, a shadow cast over her journey of survival and introspection.
A distant sound—the rhythmic thud of approaching hooves—shattered her reverie. Instinctively, Mela's hand gripped her spiked mace. Her gaze shifted through the foliage, the forest suddenly feeling like a cage. She rose silently, merging with the shadows, and peered out.
The sounds coalesced into a group of heavily armed men bearing the Royal Guard's insignia—her hunt had drawn the Kingdom of Valoria's wrath. Ten lower-ranked soldiers, five seasoned royal elite with wary glares, and one royal bodyguard moved in formation. Mela's stomach tightened as they approached, scanning the area. The leader, a stern-faced knight, called out, "Mela Hue! Come forth! You are surrounded!"
The voice, unmistakably Lady Elara's, sent a chill down Mela's spine. She retreated slowly from the bushes. Securing her robe and sliding her mace into place, she stepped into view. The Royal Guard's horses snorted and stamped, while Lady Elara's gaze locked onto her, the knight's expression inscrutable beneath her gleaming helm.
Lady Elara removed her helm with a dramatic flourish. Her blonde hair cascaded like a lion's mane, her piercing blue eyes locking onto Mela's as she declared, "Your bounty, Mela Hue is now ten thousand gold. Surrender, and come with us."
Mela's grin widened in defiant challenge. "Over my dead body."
The soldiers raised their bows, arrows trained on her heart. At Lady Elara's command, the arrows flew—a deadly storm against a darkened sky. Mela danced through the barrage, deflecting arrows with her mace. Some arrows embedded in her flesh, but she pressed on, the pain fueling her resolve.
As she retreated into the forest, her eyes never left Lady Elara's. A bloody trail marked her passage, The roar of the waterfall ahead was a beacon amid the chaos. Ignoring the searing pain from an arrow piercing her thigh, she sprinted towards the water, her legs threatening to buckle. With a final leap, she plunged into the icy current. The water's fierce grip left a burning pain, and arrows splashed into the river behind her as she was swept away.
Lady Elara's frustration boiled over as she watched Mela disappear into the torrent. "Damn it! That demon will not escape us! Not after what she did to Adrian!" Her grief twisted into cold vengeance, eyes blazing with a wrath that brooked no argument. "We will scour every inch of this land until she's brought to justice!"
Sir Caius, his face etched with grim understanding, added with a snarl, "My lady, we must follow the river. She can't have gone far." His rage was palpable, his brother's death a fresh wound. Sir Kaius had been his twin, and the loss was a deep, raw scar on his soul.
Lady Elara's eyes burned with fire. "Assemble the men. We ride west along the river. She cannot have traveled far in such a state."
The soldiers mounted their horses with urgency, driven by the drumbeat of vengeance. Lady Elara's fury was an inferno, and Sir Caius's grief added to the storm.
Meanwhile, Mela clung to a rock in the river's center, gasping through the agony of her wounds. The freezing water numbed her pain but couldn't stop the bleeding. Ignoring the throb in her legs, she shoved off and let the current pull her downstream. Each stroke was a fight against the current, driven by the primal need to survive.
As she stumbled onto the bank, exhaustion overwhelmed her. The forest, her refuge, was now a labyrinth of shadows and fear. Her pursuers were determined, and Lady Elara's rage spurred them on. Mela's desperate flight through the underbrush led her to a flickering light in the distance—a town, a potential refuge fraught with danger.
She ran into an alleyway, her strength waned, and her world went dark. The last thing she felt was a pair of strong arms catching her before she fell.