The Attack

The morning air was cold and damp. Fog clung to the forest floor, wrapping itself around tree trunks and muffling footsteps. The camp was beginning to wake—fires being rekindled, guards rotating out of night duty, and quiet-voiced exchanges drifting lazily through the clearing. There was an odd, heavy stillness to the dawn, as if the forest was itself drawing breath.

Zero sat up with a start. Ash, curled tight beside him, raised his head with a soft groan. Something was wrong.

A little distance away, Elise slept on, eyes slowly opening, while Vivian was already standing, eyes sweeping the branches. Damon, Marcus, and Felix clustered close to the edge of their group tent, still dressing, still in the dark. Lyra was already gone—her guard began before dawn.

"Wake up," Vivian whispered harshly.

Zero did not ask questions. He rushed, grabbing his belt and cloak, fastening on the worn hilt he only wore for special occasions. Elise watched him, confused.

"What is it?"

"Don't know," he said. "But something's wrong."

Before she could respond, a harsh whistle cut through the air. It was short, piercing—and then the first arrow hit.

It came crashing down onto the earth not five feet from their camp, quivering upright in the ground. Not a hunting arrow—black-shafted, with red fletching. A message.

A warning.

And then the noise.

Dozens of arrows cutting through the air like rain.

Pandemonium erupted.

"INCOMING!" someone screamed.

Rebels scrambled to take cover, seizing arms, hefting shields. Zero disarmed Elise behind a stack of crates as three arrows landed on the tent behind them. Damon cursed and crawled into cover. Felix pulled Vivian into cover, both of them dodging another salvo by a hair.

Holt's bellow boomed through the camp. "TO ARMS! SHIELDS UP, EVERYONE MOVE!"

Sienna already had an injured scout being pulled behind her into the med tent, blood splattering from the ground at her heels. Garrick emerged from the command tent, axe at the ready, barking orders with icy precision.

And Lyra launched her own arrow from the branches.

Her arrow flew high and struck one of the incoming volleys in flight. A firestarter—her mark flamed in the air, disrupting their formation and giving the rebels precious seconds to flee and hide.

Vivian dodged into cover beside Zero, eyes tightly crinkled. "They knew where to shoot."

"It's the target," Zero grunted, chest knotted. "They're here for us."

Elise went pale.

"Then let's go. Now," Vivian shouted.

"No," Garrick yelled on the other side of the clearing. "We keep them here!"

"But they're pursuing us—" Vivian started, but was cut off.

"We're not escaping!" Garrick shouted. "Not again!"

Zero winced at the raw anger in his voice. Garrick was addressing himself more than them.

Arrows kept coming. Screams echoed through the trees. Tents were on fire. Smoke drifted into the air.

Lyra dropped down off a branch near Zero and the others, bow gripped in her hand, sweat beading on her forehead.

"They're surrounding the camp," she said. "I saw movement all along the eastern tree line. They're tightening the noose."

"How many?" Zero asked.

"A small vanguard," she answered. "They're not attacking all at once—they're probing, trying to find a weakness."

"They'll find it," Damon muttered, wiping blood from a cut on his forehead. "We're not soldiers."

"We don't have to be," Vivian said coldly. "We just have to live."

Hard on that, the camp lurched under a crashing boom. An explosion tore the east barricade apart, scattering wood and shrapnel about. There rushed in through the rip a file of imperial knights armed, their cloaks black and red.

Ash let out a hard-barked yell and stood guard over Zero, hackles bristling.

Sienna met the charge head-on, swinging her curved blade with brutal precision. Garrick was beside her, axe cleaving through armor. Holt skewered a soldier with his spear, screaming with fury.

Despite the chaos, the rebels began to regroup.

"They're not here to wipe us all out," Vivian said, watching the imperial soldiers. "They're here to take us back."

"Just the marked?" Elise asked.

Vivian nodded grimly. "We're the priority."

Then came a sound that was not war.

A horn.

Low and deep and far off. It boomed out across the forest like a dying beast. Lyra's expression transformed in a moment.

"They're bringing in more troops."

Elise shook her head, despair creeping into her voice. "We can't hold it. We're not ready."

Zero slowly stood up. "Then we don't hold it. We delay."

Everyone looked at him.

"For the doctors?" Vivian asked.

No," he replied, drawing his sword for the first time since the woods. "For each other."

Vivian glanced at him, then nodded.

Felix took a gasping breath. "Then let's make them work for it.".

They fell into a ragtag circle, protecting each other's sides as they began to retreat back to the most crowded part of the camp. The rebels had laid traps there, evacuation fallback points. Holt, Sienna, and Garrick remained at the front line, keeping the imperials at bay with well-coordinated attacks.

Lyra had gone back to the trees, scout and executioner. Her arrows found chinks with precision unerring, killing soldiers in mid-charge.

The commanding officer of the empire who had ordered the assault stood on a ridge far off, watching tranquilly. Not Rika—but someone else. A figure clad in silver and black, with a long spear resting next to him.

He raised his hand, and the assault came to a stop.

Zero came to a stop.

A figure stood with the commander. Cloaked. Hair pulled back tightly. Cold, furious eyes glinting like ice.

Rika.

She had arrived.

Her words echoed over the clearing, amplified by magic.

"Release the branded ones now… and I will let what's left of your wretched camp live."

Silence.

Then Zero stepped forward, sword shaking slightly in his hand. Suddenly he threw his blade in Rika's direction. But much to their astonishment he came close to his target Rika catching the short sword in two fingers.

Rika scowled at him.

The commander's hand fell.

The second wave began.