Chapter thirteen
The cave was darker than night itself. No stars above, no moonlight bleeding in. Just wet stone, choking silence, and the stench of something old and forgotten.
Selene staggered forward, one hand brushing along the jagged, damp wall for guidance. Each step sent a shiver through her legs, her gown dragging heavy behind her, now torn and filthy, her hair tangled with soot and grime. Her breath puffed in white clouds despite the summer warmth outside. The cave seemed to pull heat from her skin.
She tried to summon a flame, a simple torchlight spell.
Nothing.
Again.
Still nothing.
The magic fizzled the moment it sparked. A wall. A block. Something was wrong with this place.
Her fingers curled. "Damn it…"
She had no choice but to rely on her senses.
Step by step.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
A few more paces, and the sound changed, footsteps, echoing faintly. One… two… four… six.
Selene froze. Her ears sharpened.
They were getting closer.
A flicker of orange flared in the distance. Fire torches. The shadows along the cave walls twisted and danced. Then, emerging from the darkness, six figures.
All men. Burly. Ragged armor. Eyes gleaming with cruel intent.
Strangers.
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice hard despite her exhaustion. "What do you want?"
They didn't answer.
Two stepped forward without warning and grabbed her by the arms, their grip like iron. Her body tensed, instinct screaming. Another man pulled out a glass vial, filled with a glowing liquid.
He reached for her mouth.
She snapped her head back and slammed her forehead into his nose. Crack. The man howled, blood spraying. She twisted one arm free and drove her elbow into a second man's throat, he stumbled back choking.
A blade flashed.
Selene ducked, spun low, and swept the legs of the man on her right, sending him crashing to the ground. Another lunged at her, and she caught his wrist, twisted, and drove her knee into his chest, then slammed his head against the wall with a sickening thud.
But they were trained. So was she.
The fight wasn't clean. One of them caught her by the back of her hair and yanked her backwards, slamming her to the stone. She gasped, stunned. Another kicked her side, pain splintering through her ribs. She rolled, narrowly avoiding a boot to the face, then lashed out with both feet, knocking her attacker into another.
She tasted blood.
Her lip was split. Her arm burned. Her shoulder throbbed from a hit she hadn't even seen coming.
Still, she moved.
She grabbed the fallen torch, its flame still dancing, and used it to blind one of them before jabbing it hard into his side. He screamed.
Selene rose again, bloodied and bruised, chest heaving. Five of the six lay groaning or unconscious. The last one tried to run. She tackled him, driving her fist into his jaw until he stopped moving.
She stood over them, trembling. Smoke curling from the torch in her grip.
Her breaths were ragged.
Every inch of her ached, but she was alive.
Staggering through a narrow passage, torch raised, she emerged into open air. The sky was black, starless, the trees hunched like silent sentinels. She didn't know where she was, only that she was free of the cave.
The relief lasted a moment.
Rustling.
She turned.
More men.
They emerged from the woods, four… six… ten.
She groaned and raised her fists again, setting the torch down beside her.
"So be it," she muttered.
One ran forward.
She moved to meet him.
And then, the air cracked.
A blur of black cloth and steel descended from the trees.
The cloaked figure.
He moved like a shadow, a masked wraith wrapped in midnight, his sword glowing faintly blue. With one swing, he cut through two men like paper. Before the others could react, he twisted low, slid under a blade, and rose behind the attacker, slicing clean through his chestplate.
Another screamed and ran.
The masked man flicked his wrist, a curved dagger left his hand like lightning, burying itself in the man's back. Silence.
Selene watched, stunned, as the cloaked figure danced through the enemies with effortless precision, no wasted motion, every strike lethal. The torchlight caught the edge of his blade as he stepped over the last fallen body.
He did not look at her.
He simply stood still, the mask gleaming faintly.
She stared at him, heart racing.
"…Who are you?"
No reply.
Only a subtle nod, like a silent vow.
Then, without a word, he turned and vanished into the shadows once more, as if the darkness had called him home.
Selene stood alone again in the forest clearing, the flames of her discarded torch flickering weakly beside her… the quiet wind brushing against her battered face.
She would not forget him.
Not this time.