Through Smoke and Storm
Episode ----21
The hall had become a battlefield of wet stone, shattered portraits, and trembling light.
Outside, thunder boomed like a war drum. Inside, the dance of steel and shadows played on.
Lina pressed closer to the cold wall, rain-slick hair clinging to her cheek, heart pounding so fiercely she felt it in her fingertips.
Ahead of her, Ayan stood like a storm given shape: blade raised, shoulders tense, breath misting in the chill air.
More attackers spilled through the broken doors — five, maybe six — moving as one dark tide.
Ayan glanced back just once, and their eyes met. In that split second, a promise passed between them:
Stay alive.
---
The first man charged. Steel clashed, the sound sharp as a struck bell. Sparks rained into shallow pools on the floor.
Ayan twisted, ducked a blade meant for his ribs, and struck back. The man staggered, fell, vanishing from Lina's sight behind the blur of motion.
Two more pressed in.
Ayan moved faster than she could follow — but she saw the exhaustion at the edges of his steps, the stiffened shoulder where he'd taken a cut.
He can't hold them all forever.
---
From the shadows, another figure emerged — taller, leaner, holding a curved blade that caught torchlight like liquid fire.
Lina's breath caught.
This one didn't rush. He stalked closer, gaze fixed on Ayan, steps deliberate, as if savoring each moment before violence.
Ayan saw him too. His stance shifted subtly — from attack to wary defense.
He knows him, Lina realized. Or knows what he can do.
---
A roar of wind swept through the broken doors, carrying rain and the scent of wet earth.
The tall man struck.
Ayan barely parried, the force driving him back a step — dangerously close to Lina. She almost reached out, but her hand froze, hovering in empty air.
Don't distract him. Don't be his weakness.
---
Their swords clashed again, and again. Each meeting sparked brief stars that died on wet marble.
Ayan's breath grew harsher, ragged, but his eyes never left his opponent's blade.
The tall man smirked, as if sensing fatigue. "Still alive, Ayan? Thought you'd have bled out by now," he taunted, voice smooth as spilled oil.
Ayan didn't answer. His jaw clenched, the scar on his cheek whitening.
---
In that moment, Lina saw something flicker across Ayan's face: not fear — calculation.
He feinted left, drawing the man's blade off‑balance, then pivoted sharply. Steel flashed — but the tall man twisted too, faster than expected, turning what should've been a killing blow into a shallow cut across his ribs.
Blood welled, dark against black cloth.
Ayan's eyes narrowed, pain flashing only for a breath before his focus returned.
---
Then Lina's gaze snagged on movement to the side.
Two more men, creeping behind fallen columns, blades ready — aiming not at Ayan, but at her.
A cold rush of terror gripped her chest.
They know she matters to him.
---
She looked at Ayan — locked in deadly combat, unable to see the new threat.
And Lina understood, in that shaking heartbeat:
She couldn't wait to be saved.
Her palms burned with memory — the sword's weight, his voice teaching her to breathe, to move, to choose.
---
One of the men stepped closer, blade raised.
Lina's breath caught. Her heart thundered louder than the rain.
She seized the iron rod that had fallen beside her — not a sword, but something.
The man lunged.
She swung.
Pain jolted up her arm as metal struck flesh. He cursed, staggering back, shock in his eyes that this fragile girl had dared to fight.
---
The second man rushed in, blade gleaming.
Lina ducked instinctively, the sword grazing her shoulder, fabric tearing. Pain burned hot, sharp — but she didn't drop the rod.
Breathe. Again.
She turned, swung wildly — not graceful, not trained — but enough to force him to step back.
---
"Lina!"
Ayan's voice — raw, panicked, alive.
Their eyes met across the chaos. For a heartbeat, everything else fell away: rain, blood, thunder.
She wasn't hiding anymore.
---
A shout ripped the moment apart. The tall man lunged at Ayan, blade aiming for his throat.
Ayan twisted aside, steel ringing on steel. Sparks flew, briefly lighting the space between life and death.
---
The attackers around Lina regrouped, rage twisting their faces. She gripped the rod tighter, chest heaving, body screaming with pain and fear — but her eyes held steady.
She wouldn't run.
Not this time.
---
Thunder cracked above, shaking dust from broken beams.
In that charged breath, Lina saw the truth in Ayan's gaze: pride, terror… and something softer, unspoken, burning behind the iron.
The storm was far from over — but they were standing in it together now.
--- See you in next episode.....