Another Death's Grip

We tore through the forest, the cold night air biting at my skin as I clutched the youngest child tightly against my chest. Another clung to my back, their tiny arms wrapped around my neck as if letting go meant certain death. Their trembling breaths were hot against my skin, their fear seeping into my own.

Behind us, Garran moved like a shield of flesh and steel, his blade flashing as he knocked aside arrow after arrow. The relentless volley hissed through the trees, splintering bark, and embedding into the damp earth at our feet.

"They're not letting up!" Garran growled, his stance firm despite the onslaught.

I forced myself to keep running, my legs burning from exhaustion. "We need to lose them in the terrain—deep enough and they won't risk following."

The forest thickened ahead, the gnarled roots and uneven ground making it harder to run, but it was our only hope. The scavengers relied on numbers and ambushes, but the deeper we went, the more the trees became our ally.

Garran grunted in agreement. "Stick close and don't stop."

The sound of pursuit grew louder behind us—branches snapping, feet pounding.

I dared a glance over my shoulder. Shapes moved in the darkness, their hollow eyes glinting with hunger and desperation. These were men who had nothing left but their instinct to take.

A shiver ran through me. I had seen that look before.

A sharp whistle cut through the air. Another volley.

"Move!" Garran shouted.

I lunged forward just as arrows rained down, some barely missing my feet. Garran gritted his teeth as he deflected another, the impact jarring his stance, but he never slowed.

The trees ahead twisted together, their roots forming a tangled, uneven descent.

"A drop ahead!" I warned, shifting my hold on the children.

Garran didn't hesitate. "Jump or die!"

With one final push, we threw ourselves forward, into the abyss of the forest's embrace.

As we plunged into the abyss of the forest, instinct took over. I bit down on my lip, drawing blood, and willed my Blood Arts to surge forth.

[Blood Arts: Sovereign of Vampiric Crown] [Activated]

The crimson essence flowed from my fingertips, weaving itself into a protective cocoon around the children. It swirled and hardened just before impact, wrapping them in a cushion of liquid silk that absorbed the force of the fall.

I wasn't as lucky.

The moment my feet hit the uneven ground, I lost balance, my body crashing into the dirt. My vision blurred as I tumbled, branches slashing at my skin, stones digging into my flesh.

Beside me, Garran grunted as he rolled, his armor scraping against the earth. The impact sent him skidding across the forest floor until he finally dug his blade into the ground, stopping himself with sheer force.

I came to a halt seconds later, my breath ragged. My limbs screamed in protest, but the moment I saw the children unharmed within their cocoon, relief flooded through me.

Garran pushed himself up, coughing, his face streaked with dirt. "Damn... warn me next time before you jump into hell," he muttered, spitting out a leaf.

I staggered to my feet, shaking off the pain. "We're alive, aren't we?" My eyes darted to the treetops. The scavengers hesitated at the edge of the drop, their silhouettes outlined against the moonlight.

They wouldn't follow—not immediately. They had lost sight of us, and the thick undergrowth would slow them down if they tried.

I turned to Garran. "We need to keep moving before they find another way down."

He groaned, stretching his arms before picking up his blade. "Yeah, yeah. But next time? Let's not make 'rolling down a damn cliff' a habit."

I managed a small smirk before releasing the Blood Arts, the crimson cocoon unraveling into mist, gently lowering the children to the ground.

They stared at me with wide, teary eyes.

"It's okay," I whispered, brushing their hair. "We're safe. For now."

But deep down, I knew this was only the beginning.

Garran wiped the sweat from his brow, his breathing still heavy from the escape. He cast a wary glance back toward the ridge where the scavengers lingered, their silhouettes shifting in the moonlight like restless predators.

"This is the first time they've been this persistent," he muttered, tightening his grip on his weapon. "Usually, they only go after the weak, take what they can, and scatter when the fight gets too risky."

I met his gaze, feeling a cold unease settle in my chest. "Then why now?"

He exhaled sharply. "That's what's bothering me. Either they're desperate, or… someone's pushing them." His fingers twitched against the hilt of his blade. "Something's changed."

I looked down at the children, who clung to my tattered cloak, their innocent eyes filled with silent fear.

A bad feeling gnawed at the back of my mind. If these scavengers were no longer just disorganized outcasts but something more—something united—then the danger we faced was far worse than I'd thought.

I closed my eyes for a brief moment, letting my senses expand beyond the fatigue weighing on my body. The scent of damp earth and flowing water caught my attention—there was a river nearby. It would provide us with a source of water and a temporary place to rest.

"This way," I murmured, adjusting the child on my back as I guided the group through the dense underbrush. Garran followed close behind, still on edge, his gaze darting around as if expecting another ambush.

After what felt like an eternity of careful steps and hushed whispers, we arrived at a small clearing near the riverbank. The water shimmered under the moonlight, its soft gurgling the only sound breaking the stillness. It was far enough from the scavengers but still exposed. We wouldn't be safe for long.

I turned to the children, kneeling before them. Their tiny hands clung to my clothing, their eyes wide with exhaustion and fear. I couldn't risk them wandering too far or being taken while I slept.

Drawing a deep breath, I pressed my palm against the ground, allowing my Blood Arts to flow. Scarlet tendrils emerged, weaving around their small wrists before looping back to me, forming a delicate but unbreakable knot of blood between us.

A tether. A bond.

They would always be within my reach. If they strayed too far or were pulled away, I would feel it instantly.

One of the children whimpered, eyeing the crimson thread in confusion. I gave them a gentle smile, my voice soft despite my exhaustion.

"It's alright. This will keep us together. No one will take you from me."

Garran exhaled sharply, crossing his arms as he observed my work. "That's… a strange trick, but I won't question it." He shifted his stance, scanning the treeline. "I'll take first watch. You rest."

I hesitated. Trust wasn't something I gave easily, but right now, I had no choice. My body was nearing its limit.

Nodding, I settled onto the ground, keeping the children close as I allowed my eyes to close, the faint pulse of my Blood Arts reassuring me that they were safe—for now.

With a flick of my wrist, I summoned a small flame from my Blood Arts, letting it dance along my fingertips before pressing it against the damp earth. The fire spread in a controlled circle, forming a steady, smoldering glow that lit up our temporary camp. Shadows stretched and flickered against the trees, their movements restless yet comforting in the darkness.

Garran, ever resourceful, had already begun gathering stones, arranging them into makeshift seats around the fire. He grunted as he set the last one down, brushing the dirt from his hands. "Not the most comfortable thing in the world, but better than sitting on the cold ground."

The children huddled close, their eyes reflecting the fire's glow as they clung to one another for warmth. Their silence spoke volumes—fear still lingered in their tiny bodies, a weight far too heavy for souls so young.

I sat down on one of the stones, keeping them within arm's reach as the Blood Knot pulsed faintly against my skin. The tether reassured me that they were safe, that they weren't going anywhere without me.

Garran stretched, rolling his shoulders before settling onto another stone across from me. His sharp gaze flickered toward the treeline, ever watchful. "We won't have long before they start searching again."

I nodded, staring into the fire. "Then we'll move at dawn."

For now, this small flame, this fragile moment of warmth, was all we had.

As the first light of dawn seeped through the forest canopy, I rose from my makeshift seat, my body aching from the restless night. The fire had burned down to faint embers, and the cool morning air carried the scent of damp earth and distant water.

Garran stood at the edge of the clearing, his posture tense but steady, eyes scanning the surroundings. "No movement yet," he murmured. "But we shouldn't push our luck."

I turned to the children, still curled together in sleep, their faces peaceful despite the horrors they had witnessed. We couldn't afford to wake them abruptly—not when exhaustion was still heavy in their tiny limbs.

Summoning my Blood Arts, I wove a cocoon of crimson threads around them, ensuring it cradled them gently. The blood formed a protective shell, firm yet soft, lifting them carefully from the ground without disturbing their slumber. The cocoon hovered beside me, swaying slightly with each movement, as though I were carrying them with invisible arms.

Meanwhile, I took the youngest into my own embrace, wrapping them in my cloak to shield them from the morning chill. Their small fingers instinctively clutched at the fabric, their breathing slow and steady.

Garran eyed the blood cocoon with a mixture of wariness and intrigue but said nothing, simply adjusting his stance before nodding toward the trees. "We move now. The river's path should lead us toward safer ground."

With silent agreement, we pressed forward into the wilderness, the weight of survival heavy on our shoulders.

As we emerged from the dense forest and onto a stretch of flat land, I felt a brief sense of relief. The open space allowed us to breathe, free from the suffocating press of trees and the constant feeling of being hunted. For the first time since our escape, I thought we might have a moment to recover.

But the peace shattered in an instant.

A piercing screech tore through the quiet morning air, sending a cold chill down my spine. My body tensed, and I instinctively pulled the youngest child closer to my chest while the blood cocoon holding the others swayed slightly.

I turned my head sharply—and there she was.

The crazed woman from before.

Her wild eyes locked onto us as she stood at the tree line, her body trembling with an unsettling energy. Her mouth stretched into a twisted grin before she let out another shrill, inhuman scream—this time louder, raw with something primal.

It wasn't just a cry of madness. It was a signal.

The children whimpered, stirring from their sleep, their small hands clutching at the air in distress. The sound had disturbed them, filling them with the same fear clawing at my gut.

Garran's expression darkened as he immediately reached for his weapon. "Damn it. She's calling them."

The rustling in the trees behind her confirmed his words. The scavengers were coming.

The moment the crazed woman let out her final screech, I raised my hand, my Blood Arts surging in response. A crimson arrow formed at my fingertips, its surface pulsing like a living thing. Without hesitation, I loosed it.

The arrow whistled through the air, piercing cleanly through her skull. Her eyes widened in shock for the briefest moment before she collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

But there was no time to linger.

The scavengers burst from the tree line like a tidal wave of desperation and violence. Arrows and spears rained down upon us, the air thick with the sharp whistle of projectiles. Others came charging, their ragged clothes flapping as they swung rusted knives wildly, their hunger for survival turning them into rabid animals.

"Now! That way!" Garran bellowed, pointing toward a break in the flatland—a rocky incline leading into another dense part of the forest. It wasn't safety, but it was cover.

I clutched the youngest tighter and reinforced the Blood Cocoon, thickening its walls as I propelled it forward with me. The children inside whimpered, shaken but protected.

Garran took the lead, deflecting incoming arrows with his blade, cutting down those who got too close. A spear barely missed his shoulder, embedding itself into the dirt beside him. He snarled and kicked away a scavenger lunging at him, sending the man sprawling.

I kept moving, my focus split between dodging attacks and shielding the children. My heart pounded as I weaved through the chaos, blood igniting at my fingertips, ready to strike down anything that got too close.

We just had to reach the incline. If we could make it there, we'd have a chance.

We were so close—just a few more steps, just a little further. But fate had other plans.

A sharp, sickening thunk echoed through the chaos.

I turned just in time to see Garran stumble, his body jerking forward as a spear impaled his side, the tip protruding from his back. His breath hitched—a strangled gasp escaping his lips—as his knees buckled beneath him.

Before I could even cry out, arrows followed.

One struck his shoulder. Another embedded itself deep into his thigh. The force of the impacts drove him to the ground, his blade slipping from his grasp, clattering against the dirt.

The scavengers closed in like starving wolves, their weapons raised, eyes gleaming with predatory anticipation. The scent of blood had only made them more frenzied, more desperate.

I froze for a fraction of a second—panic clawing at my chest. The children whimpered inside the Blood Cocoon, sensing my distress.

No. I couldn't stop here.

I clenched my teeth, my blood igniting with rage.

With a flick of my wrist, tendrils of crimson energy lashed out, slamming into the nearest scavengers, sending them sprawling. The ground beneath me quivered as I poured more power into my art, my breath ragged.

I had to make a choice.

Do I fight and risk losing the children? Or do I run and leave Garran behind?

I stepped forward, my blood burning with the urge to fight—to tear through the scavengers with everything I had. But before I could act, Garran's hand shot up, his fingers trembling yet firm as they gripped my ankle.

"Run!" His voice was raw, desperate, commanding.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. His face was twisted in pain, blood dripping from his wounds, but his eyes... they burned with something far stronger than fear—conviction.

"You must live! The princess of the fallen kingdom must not die here!" he bellowed, his voice carrying through the battlefield like a dying warrior's final cry.

The words struck me like a dagger to the heart.

The scavengers were already closing in, their twisted grins widening at the sight of his fallen form. They didn't care about his sacrifice. They only saw another body to pick apart.

"Damn it, Garran!" My voice wavered, torn between staying and running.

But I knew. I knew he had already made his choice.

He gritted his teeth, his good arm reaching for his blade. "If you die here, then what was all this for?" His voice softened just enough. "Go. Live. Protect them."

My hands shook as I clenched my jaw. The scavengers were almost upon him now, blades raised, their eyes gleaming with hunger.

I turned, my heart shattering, and I ran.

I ran as fast as I could, clutching the youngest to my chest, the Blood Cocoon gliding behind me. Tears blurred my vision, but I didn't stop.

Behind me, the sound of steel meeting flesh, of a warrior's final stand, of a man refusing to fall without a fight filled the air.

But I didn't look back.

I couldn't.