Icarius urged Astrid to pick up the pace as they raced through the shadowy forest. The dense trees, twisted and gnarled, loomed overhead, casting jagged shadows on the narrow path. The elf girl, still pale and shaken, finally broke her silence after what felt like hours of tense silence. Her voice wavered, tinged with both fear and suspicion. "Where are we? Are you one of them? You're not dark-skinned like those elves, but… you could still be a traitor. Maybe you're working with them, just pretending to be different. Did you cut off your ears as some kind of sick ritual? What are you planning to do with us?"
"Listen," he said, keeping his voice low and steady, "you're misunderstanding everything. I'm not after your blood or some ritual nonsense. I'm definitely not one of those guys. I just saw what was happening and couldn't stand by. You were chained up, and I decided to help you, that's it. Now, we're all in this together, trying to get as far away from them as possible."
The girl's expression softened slightly, but the tension in her body didn't fully ease. She looked at Icarius, searching his face for any sign of deceit. "But… why would you risk yourself for us? You don't even know us."
Icarius paused for a moment, considering her question. The truth was, he wasn't entirely sure himself. Maybe it was a mix of guilt for not being able to do more with the power he had lost or a stubborn sense of duty that he couldn't shake, even when everything seemed hopeless. But saying that out loud felt too vulnerable, too raw. Instead, he simply shrugged and said, "I couldn't just watch you suffer. That's all."
Before the conversation could continue, Astrid's voice interrupted, unusually serious for once. "Icarius, we've got a problem. You need to see this—now."
Icarius turned, peering ahead through the trees. His heart sank. The group of dark elves they had escaped from was back—and this time, they had brought reinforcements. There were more of them, heavily armed, and they looked angrier than ever.
One of the elves, clearly the leader, stepped forward, his voice cold and menacing. "Who are you, and why do you have that girl with you?" The leader demanded, his voice sharp and commanding. The moonlight reflected off his black armor, making him appear even more intimidating.
Icarius's grip tightened on the reins. He could feel the elf girl trembling behind him, her fear palpable. He knew they were cornered, and running wouldn't be easy with these children in tow. Still, he couldn't let them be taken back. Summoning what little courage he had left, he squared his shoulders and met the leader's gaze.
"From what I saw," Icarius said, trying to keep his voice steady, "you were kidnapping her. So, I decided to take her off your hands."
The leader's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing into slits. "You fool. Do you have any idea who you're dealing with? You've interfered in matters far beyond your understanding." He signaled with a sharp flick of his hand, and another elf stepped forward. This one was taller, broader, and radiated a dark aura that made the air feel heavy.
Icarius's instincts screamed at him to flee, but there was nowhere to go. The twins clung to each other, whimpering softly as they huddled closer. The imposing elf's presence was suffocating; every step he took closer felt like a drumbeat pounding in Icarius's ears.
Suddenly, without warning, the chief of the dark elves moved. He was a blur of motion, faster than Icarius could follow. With one devastating blow, he shattered what was left of the carriage into splinters. Icarius barely managed to pull back in time, but the strike grazed his hand, leaving a deep cut that stung sharply. Blood trickled down his wrist, but he didn't have time to focus on the pain. The chief was closing in again, his weapon raised for another attack.
Grabbing the girl and the twins, Icarius shouted, "Astrid, move!" He sprinted with them, adrenaline surging through his veins, trying to reach safety. But another elf—this one ranked just below the chief—blocked their path, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. He was fast, closing in with a deadly grace that left Icarius no time to think.
Icarius quickly put the twins down behind him, raising his sword in defense. The elf narrowed his eyes, sizing him up.
"Brave for someone so young," the elf sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "But bravery without strength is nothing more than foolishness."
The elf struck, a swift punch aimed directly at Icarius's chest. The impact sent a shockwave of pain through his body, his ribs creaking under the pressure. Icarius gasped as the breath was knocked out of him, and his vision blurred from the intense pain. Blood welled up in his throat, and the world around him spun as he collapsed to the ground. Darkness closed in, and in those final moments of consciousness, all Icarius could hear was the elf girl's anguished scream—a desperate, heart-wrenching cry for help that echoed through the night.
Astrid, for once, was at a loss for words; his usual sarcasm was replaced by shock and helplessness. The unicorn's eyes widened as he saw Icarius lying there, unmoving, blood pooling beneath him.
Time seemed to freeze. The night air was heavy with tension, and the dark elves were advancing slowly with grim satisfaction. They thought they had won. Icarius's heartbeat was barely there—faint, almost nonexistent. Astrid could sense it, and the dread settled in his chest like a weight. For a brief moment, it felt as if everything had truly come to an end.
But deep within, even as his consciousness faded, something in Icarius refused to let go. There was still a flicker of life—a stubborn will that clung to survival. Whether that would be enough to save him, though, was a question left hanging in the dark.