The blade in the dark

The Night of Betrayal

The night was unnaturally still, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and lingering smoke from our last skirmish. Another victory under my command, another supply caravan raided. The rebels feasted, their laughter echoing through the camp. A rare moment of peace.

Yet, beneath the surface, something was wrong.

I stood at the edge of the gathering, staring into the flickering torchlight, my fingers tightening around the hilt of my blade. The unease had been gnawing at me for days now, a silent whisper at the back of my mind. The throne spirit's presence had been growing stronger, its hunger pressing against the edges of my thoughts.

A shift in the air pulled me from my thoughts.

Across the fire, I caught Roran's gaze. He had been watching me more closely these past few days. Unlike Malrik, whose charm could disarm even the most cautious, Roran was steady. Unwavering. He crossed the distance between us with careful steps, holding out a flask of water.

"You did well today," he murmured.

I took the flask, my fingers brushing against his. Unlike with Malrik, I didn't immediately pull away. Roran's touch was… familiar. Safe.

"I only led," I said, taking a sip. "They fought just as hard."

"They fought because they believe in you."

I lifted my gaze to his, searching his expression. Roran wasn't like the others. He didn't worship my power. He didn't fear it either.

He simply… trusted me.

"Do you?" I asked before I could stop myself.

His lips curved into the smallest of smiles. "I always have."

Something inside me tightened.

Before I could respond, movement to my left drew my attention. Malrik.

His usual smirk was absent, his gaze sharp as he took in the space between Roran and me.

"Should I be jealous?" he asked, stepping closer.

I rolled my eyes and took a step away from Roran before this turned into something unnecessary. "You're always jealous."

Malrik let out a humorless chuckle. "Only when it comes to you."

Beside me, Roran tensed, but I ignored them both. I had no patience for whatever silent war Malrik was waging.

Still, when he leaned in, voice dropping just for me to hear, a shiver ran down my spine.

"Be careful who you trust."

Something about the way he said it…

I didn't like it.

The Betrayal Unfolds

The rebels had just begun to settle when Naela approached. There was something different in her eyes tonight—something sharp, calculating.

"We need to talk," she said.

I followed her to the outskirts of camp, every instinct screaming at me to turn back.

"You've done well, Elaris," Naela began, her voice smooth, practiced. "The rebels follow you, they believe in you. But you must understand… true power requires sacrifice."

I stiffened. "What are you talking about?"

Naela stepped closer, her smile widening. "You feel it, don't you? The whispers. The power calling you."

The throne spirit.

My breath hitched. "How do you know about that?"

"Because I was meant to guide you," she said, tilting her head. "You were never supposed to fight it, Elaris. You were supposed to embrace it."

A cold dread coiled in my chest.

"You betrayed us," I whispered.

Naela's smirk deepened. "I did what was necessary."

Pain exploded in my side before I could react.

A dagger, sharp and precise, plunged between my ribs.

I gasped, the taste of iron flooding my mouth. My knees buckled, and Naela caught me, lowering me to the ground almost gently.

"You'll understand soon enough," she murmured.

The camp was too far. No one would hear me.

Darkness began to creep in at the edges of my vision.

This couldn't be how it ended.

Not like this.

Malrik's Rage & the Battle

A low growl shattered the silence.

Then—a flash of silver.

Naela was ripped away from me.

I barely registered the blur of movement before Malrik was there, his blade pressed against her throat. His eyes burned with unrestrained fury.

"You made the wrong move," he snarled.

Naela spat blood, her dark eyes gleaming with something between hatred and amusement. "You think you can stop what's coming?"

I tried to move, but agony ripped through me. My magic flickered weakly, drained from the night's battle.

Malrik's jaw clenched. Then, without hesitation—he slashed Naela's throat.

She collapsed.

Malrik turned, dropping to his knees beside me, pressing a hand against my wound.

"Stay with me," he demanded.

I tried to focus on his face, on the fear in his eyes. The arrogance was gone. There was only desperation.

"I told you," he muttered, voice tight. "Be careful who you trust."

Then, everything went dark.

The Aftermath – Malrik's Confession

When I woke, I was in my tent. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and burning wood.

I turned my head, wincing.

Malrik sat at my bedside, elbows on his knees, staring at the ground.

"You're awake," he said without looking at me.

"Obviously," I muttered.

A long silence stretched between us.

Then, Malrik exhaled sharply. "You scared me."

I blinked. "I—"

"I know you don't trust me," he interrupted. "And maybe you shouldn't. But when I saw you on the ground, bleeding out…"

He finally looked at me.

For the first time, there was no teasing, no arrogance. Just raw, unfiltered emotion.

"I don't want to lose you," he admitted.

My breath caught.

Malrik ran a hand through his hair, frustration clear on his face. "Roran's got you all calm and steady, and maybe that's what you need. But me? I don't know how to be careful when it comes to you."

I swallowed, unsure how to respond.

But Malrik didn't need me to. He stood, exhaling deeply.

"Rest," he murmured.

As he turned to leave, I found myself gripping his wrist, stopping him.

I didn't say anything.

Didn't know what to say.

But for the first time, Malrik didn't push.

He just covered my hand with his and stayed.

A New Path Forward

By morning, the rebels gathered again, the weight of the night's events heavy on their shoulders.

Naela was dead.

But her betrayal had nearly cost me everything.

I stood before them, taking a slow breath.

"We move forward," I declared. "We fight for what is ours. But from now on—we trust no one blindly."

The rebels nodded, their resolve stronger than before.

Malrik stood behind me.

Roran stood at my side.

One heart that burned for me.

One heart that protected me.

And between them…

I stood alone.

My war was far from over.