"Stop!" Oliver said suddenly, grabbing Emilie's hand, pulling her to a halt. "We need to get out of here," he said, his voice tense. "The ground… it could crumble at any moment. And even if we somehow get to the church, I'm not sure we can help them." His eyes were wide with fear, darting between the burning church and the gaping crack that stretched toward it.
Emilie's breath caught as she looked at the crumbling earth and the flames devouring the building. "But… what if they're still alive?" she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. "We can't just leave them, Oliver."
Oliver tightened his grip on her hand, his expression torn. Then, his eyes widened suddenly. "…Look!" he said, pointing toward the church.
"What?" Emilie asked, her voice shaking with desperation.
"I just saw people," Oliver said quickly, his voice filled with a mix of hope and urgency. "They're probably helping our friends right now. We shouldn't worry."
Emilie blinked, her panic subsiding for a moment as she followed his gaze. "Really?" she asked, her voice softening with cautious relief. "What a relief…" She let out a shaky breath.
"They probably would go to a safe place and as for us, it's too dangerous to go to the village or to the church so let's get as far as we can from this crack and tomorrow when everything settles we will come here and reunite with others"
"They'll probably head to a safe place," Oliver said, trying to sound reassuring. "As for us, it's too dangerous to go to the village or the church right now. That crack… it's too unstable."
Emilie looked around, her fear still evident, but she nodded slowly. "So, what do we do?"
Oliver took a deep breath, his grip on her hand steady. "Let's get as far away from this crack as we can. Find somewhere safe to stay for the night. Tomorrow, when everything settles, we'll come back and reunite with the others."
Emilie hesitated, then nodded again, more firmly this time. "Alright, you're right. Let's go."
With one last glance at the distant church, they turned and began their cautious journey away from the chaos.
-----
"So, Vornathar has broken free from our seal," a young man with noble features and blonde hair said calmly. He sat in a grand hall, lavishly adorned with priceless decorations and intricate paintings, at a vast, round table where four others sat in silence. "The Infernal Covenant must be behind this. They wouldn't miss an opportunity to free him."
"How did they even know where he was sealed?" An old man, with a long white beard and deep-set wrinkles asked. "Only five of us knew the location…"
The blonde man's eyes narrowed. "Are you suggesting there's a spy in Thunderheart Manor?"
The old man shrugged, his tone nonchalant, yet his words were sharp and direct. "I'm not suggesting, Elshar. I'm stating the obvious. We all know there's a traitor among us. But let's first focus on the matter at hand." His gaze fell on a young woman seated nearby, adorned in a rich velvet coat. Her brown hair framed her face, reaching just past her shoulders. "Fiora," he continued, "I would like you to travel to Mistpeak Mountain and investigate what has occurred there. If you encounter Vornathar, do your utmost to stall him until we can reach you."
Fiora nodded, rising gracefully from her chair. Without a word, she strode to the grand balcony. With a swift motion, she leapt into the air, her form gliding effortlessly through the sky. Behind her, the grand expanse of a magnificent blue and white palace hovered in the clouds, its majestic towers glistening in the fading light as she disappeared into the horizon.
"As for us, friends..." the old man said, a mischievous smile curling across his wrinkled face. His eyes gleamed with anticipation as he rose slowly from his seat. "It's time to set our plan into motion." His voice carried a dark promise, and the room seemed to hum with a silent tension.
The moon was rising, casting a silver glow over the landscape. The warmth that lingered after the fire was fading, slowly replaced by the chill carried on the evening wind. Two figures in grey, their clothes stained by dirt and soot, trudged toward a small hill, their faces weary and marked by the day's chaos.
"Finally here..." Oliver muttered, exhaustion heavy in his voice as he gazed at the small hill before them. His shoulders slumped under the weight of the sword, and with a tired clatter, he let it fall to the ground, the metallic sound echoing in the quiet night. Moments later, both he and Emilie collapsed onto the earth, their bodies giving in to the overwhelming fatigue. The cool night air brushed against their faces, but they were too tired to care, lying there in silence, catching their breath.
"Haha, damn sword," Oliver chuckled weakly, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I get why that man was complaining." He kicked the blade lightly, the weight of it seeming even more daunting now that the adrenaline had worn off.
"..." Emilie lay still, her breath steadying as the silence between them stretched.
"Don't worry about them," Oliver finally said, his voice low but reassuring. He turned his head slightly, glancing at Emilie. "They'll be alright. We'll figure it out tomorrow." His words hung in the air, an attempt to comfort them both despite the uncertainty gnawing at him.
Soon, exhaustion overtook them completely, and they both drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep. The night carried on, the quiet rustling of leaves and the soft wind the only sounds in the stillness around them.