Hours passed. The camp was quiet except for the soft crackle of the fire. Arteja's muscles ached from the day's battles, but she remained vigilant, her spear ready.
Then, a sound. Faint, distant, but distinct.
Arteja raised a hand, signaling Lirael. "Did you hear that?"
Lirael straightened, her hand drifting to the hilt of her sword. "Yeah. Movement, maybe thirty meters out."
Arteja moved silently, her steps measured as she slipped into the shadows beyond the firelight. Lirael followed close behind, her movements just as quiet.
The sound grew louder—a rustling in the underbrush. Arteja's heart pounded as she tightened her grip on her spear.
They rounded a tree, and Arteja froze. A figure stood in the shadows, cloaked in black and holding a short blade. His face was obscured, but his stance screamed aggression.
Arteja didn't wait. She lunged forward, her spear thrusting toward the figure's chest.
The man dodged with surprising speed, sidestepping her attack and slashing at her with his blade. Arteja twisted her spear, deflecting the strike, and retaliated with a sharp jab aimed at his shoulder.
He ducked, countering with a low sweep of his blade. Arteja jumped back, narrowly avoiding the attack, and repositioned herself, her feet shifting into a defensive stance.
"Fast," Lirael muttered, drawing her sword.
The man moved to attack again, but Lirael intercepted him, her blade flashing in the dim light. Their weapons clashed, the metallic ring echoing through the forest.
Arteja saw her opening. As the man focused on Lirael, she stepped in, her spear sweeping low toward his legs. The blade caught him just above the knee, and he stumbled, cursing.
Lirael didn't hesitate. Her sword slashed across his chest, cutting deep. The man fell to the ground with a groan, clutching his wound.
Arteja stood over him, her spear poised to strike. "Who sent you?"
The man spat blood, his lips curling into a defiant smirk. "You think I'd tell you?"
Lirael knelt beside him, pressing her blade against his throat. "You will. Or we'll make sure your death isn't quick."
The man's smirk faltered, but before he could speak, a whistle pierced the air.
Arteja barely had time to react before another arrow flew toward them. She raised her spear, deflecting the projectile, and turned to see more figures emerging from the darkness.
"Back to camp!" Arteja shouted.
She and Lirael retreated, their weapons ready as the attackers closed in.