The forest seemed unnaturally still as they journeyed back to the stronghold. No wind, no rustling of leaves, only the hollow sound of their horses' hooves crunching over dry twigs. It was a silence that weighed heavily on both Garrick and Stoinis. Stoinis was deep in thought, replaying the events of the past few days in his mind. Garrick, however, was unusually quiet.
As they neared the stronghold, the smell of smoke hit them like a blow. Stoinis's heart quickened, and Garrick's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Moments later, they crested the hill and saw it—thick black smoke billowing into the sky. Their stronghold, their home, was in ashes.
"Damn it!" Garrick cursed as they both kicked their white horses into a faster pace, the animals snorting with exertion as they galloped towards the ruins.
When they arrived, the sight of the destruction was overwhelming. Bodies lay strewn across the ground, charred remains of huts and barricades reduced to piles of smoldering wood. Garrick and Stoinis jumped off their horses, and their boots crunched against the burnt ground as they rushed to inspect the scene.
Garrick, his face twisted in agony, stood still for a moment, surveying the wreckage. He had lost everything. His men—his brothers in arms—were gone. One look at the devastation told him the truth: no one had survived. Anger boiled in his chest, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.
Stoinis, however, had only one thing on his mind. "Elara..." he muttered under his breath. He ran, frantically searching among the ruins, kicking aside debris and broken weapons. His heart pounded in his chest, faster with each moment that passed without finding her. And then he heard it—a faint sound, a weak groan.
"ELARA!" Stoinis screamed, rushing towards the sound.
Garrick's heart dropped, and he ran towards the direction of Stoinis's voice. When he arrived, his world shattered. There, lying on the ground with a gaping wound in her gut, was his daughter.
"Dad... Stoinis..." Elara's voice was barely a whisper, blood trickling from her mouth. "They... they came for revenge. It was the City Lord's men... they took back their money... and then they did this. Avenge the stronghold..." Her voice faded as her body trembled, the life slipping away from her.
Stoinis knelt beside her, his hands trembling as he cradled her. "No... no, no, Elara! Stay with me!" His voice cracked with desperation. But it was too late.
Garrick dropped to his knees beside her, his face twisted in agony as he watched the light fade from his daughter's eyes. The world around him blurred as his rage threatened to consume him.
"I... I should've been here," Stoinis choked out, guilt weighing him down like a heavy chain. "This is my fault..."
Garrick, through sheer willpower, composed himself enough to speak. His voice was hoarse, but firm as he placed a hand on Stoinis's shoulder. "Kid, it's not your fault. But... I swear on her grave, Yinstin won't see many more dawns. It will take time to reach the city, but when we do... there will be hell to pay."
Before long, they heard the familiar sound of hooves approaching. Raylor, the vice leader of the bandits, returned from his mission. When he saw the scene before him, his eyes widened in disbelief.
"Brother Garrick... how... how did this happen?!" Raylor's voice cracked with emotion as he looked between the dead and his broken leader. He turned towards Stoinis, his voice faltering. "Stoinis, just what...?"
Garrick, still kneeling by Elara's lifeless body, gave him a quick explanation of the City Lord's treachery. His voice was hollow, drained of all but the coldest fury. "We followed their trail. There won't be a City Lord by the time we're done."
Raylor's expression hardened. He nodded, drawing his sword. "Then let's not waste time."
They tracked the city lord's soldiers through the forest, the trail of hoof prints clear in the dirt. It wasn't long before they caught up with the group, resting by the riverbank. The soldiers hadn't expected anyone to survive the raid.
"Well, well, looks like a few rats survived, eh?" one of the mercenaries sneered, standing up from his resting spot. "Should've finished the job properly. We'll take care of you lot now."
Raylor stepped forward, his grip tight on the hilt of his sword. "A few rats? More like Reapers who have been chasing your soul."
Another mercenary grinned, brandishing his blade. "That's big talk from a bunch of beaten dogs."
Raylor shot a dark look towards the soldier. "Dogs? You dare!"
The banter died down as one of the mercenaries, not knowing the weight of his words, laughed and said, "What's wrong? Missing the little lady? She didn't put up much of a fight, you know."
Time froze. Without a word, both Garrick and Stoinis moved. Their swords flashed through the air in perfect unison, cutting the man's throat before he even realized what had happened. The other mercenaries stood there, stunned by the speed of the attack.
The soldier's body crumpled to the ground, and the tension broke. Chaos erupted as the two sides clashed in a brutal fight.
The City Lord's soldiers had numbers, and they were skilled, but Garrick, Stoinis, and Raylor were driven by vengeance—vengeance that fueled their every strike. Garrick fought like a man possessed, his rage translating into raw power. His sword cleaved through armor and bone, cutting down anyone who dared cross his path. Stoinis fought with precision and fury, his movements a deadly dance of strikes, parries, and swift cuts that disarmed and killed with brutal efficiency. Raylor, though older and slower, fought with a grim determination, his experience making him just as lethal.
The mercenaries quickly realised they had underestimated their opponents. What they thought would be an easy fight against a ragtag group of survivors was turning into a bloodbath. Raylor's blade cut through the air with brutal precision, and Stoinis fought with a cold efficiency that left no opening for his enemies.
"Look at them, fighting for a doomed cause," one of the mercenaries jeered, swinging his sword at Raylor.
Raylor deflected the blow with ease and countered with a vicious slash across the mercenary's chest. "You've already lost," he said, his voice like ice.
On the other side of the battlefield, Stoinis was a whirlwind of strikes. His blade moved with a speed and accuracy that left his enemies stumbling. One mercenary swung his axe at him, but Stoinis ducked low, slicing the man's legs out from under him before delivering a swift killing blow.
"That all you've got?" Stoinis spat, stepping over the fallen body, crushing the skull under his feet, the flames of anger were scorching as he marched, with every step, cutting a limb or slaughtering them like livestock.
Garrick, though fatigued from the emotional toll and the intense battle, fought with a ferocity that only grief could fuel. His sword was an extension of his rage, cleaving through armor and bone with terrifying strength. Every swing was a cry for vengeance, and each kill felt like a step closer to justice for Elara.
"You took my daughter's life, and now by all rights, I shall claim yours." he growled, impaling another mercenary on his sword, the man's eyes wide with fear before his life was snuffed out.
Despite their overwhelming numbers, the mercenaries began to falter. The sheer intensity of their three opponents had caught them off guard. Soon, the ground was littered with bodies, and the remaining soldiers began to panic. Their leader, a grizzled veteran with a scarred face, barked out orders.
"Regroup! Don't let them break us!"
But it was too late. The soldiers had already lost their nerve, and their cohesion collapsed. One by one, they fell, unable to keep up with the relentless onslaught of the three warriors, A group of 50 was reduced to 15 in a matter of minutes.
Rylor dispatched a soldier with a quick thrust, then turned to face the remaining few. "This is the price of betrayal," he said darkly, his eyes burning with anger.
But then, from the corner of his eye, Stoinis saw something—one of the mercenaries, staggering on his last legs, blood dripping from a wound on his side. His eyes were wild with desperation as he reached into his belt and pulled out a spear.
Time seemed to slow.
Stoinis shouted a warning, but it was too late. The mercenary, using the last of his strength, hurled the spear with deadly precision. It cut through the air, and before anyone could react, it found its mark. The spear drove deep into Garrick's back, the force of the blow knocking him forward.
Garrick's sword slipped from his grasp, clattering to the ground as he stumbled. His knees buckled, and he collapsed, blood spilling from his mouth. Stoinis's heart dropped.
"LORD GARRICK!" Stoinis screamed, rushing towards him.
The mercenary who threw the spear gave a weak, satisfied grin before collapsing to the ground, his life ebbing away.
Stoinis knelt beside Garrick, his hands shaking as he reached for the spear lodged in his mentor's back. Garrick coughed, blood splattering onto the ground as he struggled to breathe. His face was pale, and his eyes, once so full of life, were dimming.
"Kid..." Garrick's voice was weak, barely a whisper. "I'm not... done yet."
Stoinis tried to pull the spear out, but Garrick placed a hand on his arm, stopping him. "No... leave it. You need to focus... on what's next."
Raylor approached, his face grim, having finished off the last of the mercenaries. He knelt beside Garrick, his hand shaking as he placed it on his leader's shoulder. "Brother Garrick..."
Garrick coughed again, more blood spilling from his lips. His breaths were ragged, each one a struggle. "Raylor... take care of the kid. Stoinis... he's ready."
"No," Stoinis choked out, his voice breaking. "You're going to be fine. We'll get you help."
But Garrick shook his head weakly, his gaze locking with Stoinis's. "It's too late... for me. You... you need to finish this. For Elara."
The mention of Elara's name sent a wave of guilt and sorrow crashing over Stoinis. He had failed to protect her. But now, with Garrick on the verge of death, he knew what needed to be done.
"I swear," Stoinis said, his voice shaking. "I'll make them pay."
Garrick smiled faintly, though the pain was evident on his face. "That's my boy... always knew... you'd take care of her. Now... go finish what we started."
With those final words, Garrick's body went still, the last breath leaving his lungs. Stoinis felt a hollow ache in his chest, his hands trembling as he gently closed Garrick's eyes. The man who had been his mentor, his leader, was gone.
For a moment, there was only silence. The battlefield was quiet, the bodies of the mercenaries and Garrick's fallen comrades scattered around them. Raylor stood up, wiping the blood from his sword as he looked down at Garrick's body.
"We'll avenge him," Raylor said, his voice low but filled with determination. "Yinstin will burn for this."
"Amidst the ashes, in silence they stand,
With vengeance sworn, and blood on their hands.
The light once claimed has now been lost,
With a battle won, but at what cost?"