Chapter 9: Soldiers Attack

Kena and Hope walked down the hill after the flying horse left them. The grass was soft under her boots, and the golden city glowed closer than ever.

The purple sky was streaked with orange, and the air felt warm on her skin. Kena's legs were tired from the long day, but her ride on the horse had lifted her spirits high.

She reached into her pocket, pulled out the photo, and stared at Justice Veldric's face. His eyes in the picture seemed to look right at her, strong and steady.

"We're almost there," she said, turning her head to glance at Hope. "Right?"

Hope nodded, his iron mask catching the last bits of sunlight. "Yes. But it won't be easy," he said, his voice calm but firm.

Kena rolled her eyes and let out a small huff. "Nothing here is easy. I've got singing trees waking me up at night and giant wolves trying to kill me every other day. What's next? A talking rock?"

Hope didn't answer her right away. He stopped walking suddenly and tilted his head, like he heard something far off.

Kena frowned, her brow wrinkling. "What?" she asked, her voice sharp with worry.

"Quiet," he said, keeping his voice low.

He grabbed her arm quick and pulled her behind a big, rough rock. She stumbled a little, annoyed at being dragged, but she crouched down anyway.

Then she heard it too—hooves pounding the ground, getting louder and closer with every beat.

"Who's that?" she whispered, her eyes wide.

Hope peeked over the top of the rock, careful not to make a sound. "Soldiers," he said simply. "Stay low."

Kena's heart started beating faster, thumping hard in her chest. She crouched even lower, her hands gripping the soft grass tight.

The sound grew bigger, and soon she saw them—six men on horses, riding fast toward the rock.

They wore dark armor that clinked as they moved, with red capes flapping behind them like flags.

Their swords glinted in the fading orange light. One of them shouted loud, "Find the masked traitor! He's close!"

Kena's eyes flicked over to Hope, fast and sharp. "Masked traitor?" she hissed under her breath. "That you?"

Hope didn't look at her. His eyes stayed on the soldiers. "Maybe," he said, his voice flat.

He pulled his sword out of its sheath, slow and quiet, the metal barely making a sound.

"Maybe?!" Kena snapped, her whisper getting louder. "What did you do?"

"No time," Hope said, cutting her off. "They're coming."

The soldiers stopped their horses near the rock, so close Kena could hear the animals snorting and stomping.

She held her breath, trying not to move a muscle. A tall man with a deep scar running down his face jumped off his horse and looked around, his eyes narrow.

"I know you're here," he yelled, his voice rough and angry. "Show yourself, coward!"

Kena glared at Hope, her lips pressed tight. "Great. Now what?" she muttered.

Hope stood up fast, his sword ready in his hand. "Run," he told her, his voice sharp. "I'll hold them off."

"Run where?" Kena said, her words quick and loud.

But he was already moving. He leapt over the rock in one smooth jump and swung his sword at the scarred man.

Their blades hit with a loud clang that echoed in the air.

The other soldiers shouted, their voices mixing together, and jumped off their horses, rushing at Hope with their weapons raised.

Kena didn't run. She couldn't leave him—not after he'd saved her so many times before.

Her hands shook as she grabbed a stick from the ground, the wood rough against her skin.

"Stupid mask guy," she muttered to herself, then charged out from behind the rock.

Hope fought hard, his sword flashing in the dim light. He swung and knocked one soldier flat on his back, then dodged another's wild swing.

But there were too many of them, moving fast all around him. The scarred man laughed, a mean sound, and swung his sword low at Hope's legs.

Hope jumped back quick, but another soldier swung and hit his arm. Blood dripped from a fresh cut, red and bright, and Kena's stomach twisted tight at the sight.

"Hey!" she yelled, swinging her stick at a soldier sneaking up behind Hope.

It hit his head with a solid thwack, and he stumbled, cursing loud. Hope glanced at her, his eyes wide behind the mask, surprised.

"I said run!" he shouted, his voice rough with effort.

"No way!" Kena yelled back, her heart pounding.

She swung her stick again, but the soldier grabbed it this time and yanked it right out of her hands.

He shoved her hard, and she fell, hitting the ground with a grunt, the air knocked out of her.

Hope roared, loud and fierce, and slashed his sword at the soldier who'd pushed her.

The blade cut the man's arm, and he screamed, stumbling back.

But the scarred leader swung at Hope, catching the edge of his cloak with his sword.

The fabric ripped loud, and Hope stumbled, off balance. The soldiers closed in tighter, their swords up high, ready to strike.

Kena scrambled to her feet, her breath fast and desperate. She saw a rock by her boots, small but heavy, and grabbed it.

She threw it hard, and it hit the scarred man's helmet with a loud ding that rang out. He turned slow, glaring at her with dark, angry eyes.

"You little rat!" he snarled, stomping toward her, his boots loud on the ground.

Hope saw his chance. He tackled the leader from behind, fast and hard, knocking him flat into the dirt.

They wrestled there, rolling and grunting, their swords forgotten in the dust.

Kena ran over to help, kicking at the scarred man's legs with all her strength.

Another soldier grabbed her from behind, his hands rough, but she twisted and elbowed him hard in the stomach. He let go, and she broke free, panting.

"Enough!" the scarred man yelled, shoving Hope off him with a grunt. He stood up, breathing hard, his face red with anger. "We'll find you again, traitor."

He whistled sharp, and the soldiers backed off, climbing onto their horses.

They rode away fast, dust flying up behind them in a thick cloud.

Kena stood there, her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. Hope got up slow, wiping the blood from his arm with his sleeve.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice softer now.

"Me?" Kena said, her voice high with disbelief. "You're the one bleeding! What was that about?"

Hope slid his sword back into its sheath, the metal scraping. "Old trouble," he said, short and simple. "Don't worry."

"Don't worry?!" Kena shouted, her hands flying up. "They called you a traitor! Who are you, really?"

Hope looked away, his mask hiding his face. "We need to move," he said. "They'll come back."

Kena crossed her arms tight over her chest. "Not until you tell me something," she said, her voice firm.

He sighed, long and tired. "I crossed some people. That's all you need to know for now."

Kena glared at him, her eyes narrow, but she let it drop. She didn't trust him all the way, not yet, but he'd fought for her just now.

"Fine," she said, her tone sharp. "But no more surprises, okay?"

Hope nodded once, and they started walking again, their boots crunching on the grass.

The golden city was so close now, its lights shining bright against the purple sky.

But the fight had left Kena shaken, her mind spinning. Who was Hope, really? And why were those soldiers after him?

She kept her eyes on him as they walked, questions buzzing loud in her head like bees.

The hill sloped down gentle under their feet, and the air grew cooler as the sun sank lower.

Kena's legs ached with every step, but she pushed on, her eyes flicking between Hope and the city ahead.

The photo of Justice Veldric was still in her hand, crumpled a little now from the fight.

She smoothed it out with her fingers, staring at his face again. He was why she was here, why she'd come so far.

But Hope—Hope was a mystery she hadn't planned on.

"You ever gonna tell me the whole story?" she asked, her voice quieter now.

Hope kept walking, his cloak swaying. "When it's safe," he said. "Not here."

Kena groaned, kicking a small stone out of her way. "You're so annoying," she muttered.

But she didn't push him more. The city was too close, and she could feel it pulling her forward, like a rope tugging at her heart.

The grass thinned out as they reached the bottom of the hill, turning to patches of dirt and small rocks.

The golden city loomed big now, its walls tall and shining. Kena could see shapes moving on top—guards, maybe, or people watching. Her stomach flipped, nervous and excited all at once.

"Almost there," Hope said, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," Kena replied, her voice soft. "Almost."

They kept going, step after step, the city growing bigger with every move. Kena's mind raced with thoughts—of Justice Veldric, of Hope, of the soldiers.

She didn't know what was coming, but she knew one thing: she wasn't turning back now. Not after everything.