When the Gates Tremble
Episode------ 19
The storm didn't come quietly.
By dusk, thunder shook the broken eaves, wind flung sheets of rain against shattered windows, and the courtyard turned into a shallow lake. In the flickering lamplight, the old villa looked alive — restless, haunted by its own past.
Lina sat in the library, heart drumming faster than the rain outside. Books lay open but unread in her lap; words blurred by worry. Since Ayan's confession earlier — that raw, breaking moment when his voice had trembled against the weight of truth — her chest had ached in a way no blade could ever inflict.
She didn't pity him. But she hurt with him. And maybe that was worse.
---
A loud crash echoed from somewhere deeper in the villa. Lina startled, the book slipping from her hands.
A servant girl darted past the doorway, her eyes wide with panic. "Miss — stay here," she gasped, then fled before Lina could ask why.
Fear clawed at Lina's spine, but instinct dragged her to her feet. She pushed through the heavy oak door into the corridor beyond. Shadows danced on stone walls, and in the distance, voices rose — low, sharp, too far to catch words.
Where is he?
The question cut through every other thought.
---
She found Ayan in the entrance hall.
Rain-soaked and half-silhouetted against the iron-banded doors, he stood with his sword already drawn. His hair clung to his forehead, water dripping from his coat. Thunder framed him in flashes of white and shadow, turning his expression into something carved from fear, fury, and fierce resolve.
"Ayan!" she called, breathless.
He turned, eyes finding hers at once. "You shouldn't be here," he rasped — not anger, but desperation bleeding through each word.
"I won't hide," she shot back. "Tell me what's happening!"
His gaze flickered past her, scanning the dark corridor behind. "They've come early," he said. "And they didn't come to talk."
---
A pounding began at the gates — not of visitors, but of something determined to break through.
Wood groaned under iron blows; hinges shrieked.
Ayan stepped closer to her, rain dripping from his jaw. "Listen," he whispered, his voice barely steady. "When the gates fall, there will be chaos. Go through the east wing, down the servants' stairs. Take the forest path—"
"No," Lina cut in, voice shaking but unbroken. "Not without you."
"If I'm fighting, I can't protect you," he snapped.
"And if I run, I'll spend every step wishing I stayed," she fired back, chest tight, breath coming in shallow gasps.
---
A crack — louder than thunder — split the night. The iron gates gave way with a tortured scream of metal.
Figures poured through: shadows against rain, blades glinting, voices shouting commands Lina couldn't hear over the roar in her ears.
Time felt strange then — too fast and too slow.
Ayan grabbed her wrist, his grip burning against her skin. "Stay behind me," he hissed. "No matter what."
She nodded, swallowing terror like bitter wine.
---
The first man reached them — heavyset, dripping rain and malice. His sword swung toward Ayan's head.
Steel met steel, sparks showered across wet stone.
Ayan moved differently now: faster, harder, beautiful and terrifying all at once. Each step was violence shaped by will; each strike a promise he would not fall — not yet.
Lina pressed herself against the wall, heart slamming so hard she tasted iron. But her eyes never left him.
---
A second attacker lunged from the side. Lina saw it before Ayan did, breath catching in her throat.
"Ayan!" she screamed.
He turned just in time, blade rising to catch the blow. Metal clashed, shuddered. The force drove him back a step — back toward her.
She reached out, fingers brushing his coat, as if even that frail contact could anchor them both.
His eyes met hers — a flash of pain, then resolve. "Stay behind me!"
"I know," she choked out, voice breaking.
---
More figures flooded in. Shadows moved along the balcony above, crossbows glinting in the lamplight.
Ayan raised his sword, chest heaving. "When I say run," he ground out, "you run."
"And if you fall?" she whispered, so low only he could hear.
His eyes — dark, wild, alive — softened just for a heartbeat. "Then you live. For both of us."
---
But Lina's hands clenched into fists at her sides.
She remembered the weight of the blade in her grip. The sting of blisters. The trembling that hadn't stopped her yesterday or the day before.
I can't run. Not now.
---
A shout echoed through the ruined hall; rain streamed through the broken doors like blood from a wound.
For a moment, everything held its breath — storm, stone, and two hearts refusing to break.
Then steel crashed again, and the gates of safety, silence, and denial finally shattered.
---See you in next episode...