Damien's team moved slowly through the forest, leaving smoldering ashes of crimson blades camp behind. Even after succumbing to their first victory, the atmosphere always seemed thick with tension, with the weight of their mission resting heavily on everyone.
Damien walked closely to the front, his steel-gray eyes piercing through the thickened trees, seeking out any signs of movement. Amara followed stealthily by his side. What was once a smirk on her face now replaced by an odd stare of concentration. Trailing behind were Carys and Loric, looking haggard.
"We have put a dent into what Elyas is," Damien broke the silence. "But he will retaliate, he always does."
"Fine with me. The more desperate he gets, the more mistakes he makes," she said, glancing over at him.
"True. But desperation makes people dangerous. We cannot underestimate it."
Loric grunted, "And you seem to make it appear as if we had a choice. Elyas gets a step ahead of everyone, and we are just playing catch-up here."
"Then we change the rules of the game," Damien asserted.
---
By nightfall, they came to a clearing by a shallow stream. The group quickly set up a little camp, quite in stealth. The fire was kept low so they would not be detected, and its flickering light cast long shadows on the trees surrounding them.
Amara was sitting on a rock near the low fire, methodically sharpening her daggers. She raised her eyes when Damien approached, her sharply blue gaze glimmering in the faint light.
"You're quiet," she said.
"Thinking," Damien replied and sat across from her.
"About Elyas?"
"About everything," he admitted. "The rebellion, the alliances, the people who died for it."
"One cannot save all, Damien," said Amara, raising her brow. "War has its price."
"I know," he said quietly. "But that should not prevent me from trying."
For a moment, they did not speak. The fire crackled, filling the silence, and made them feel warm through the grudging chill of the night.
"Different," Amara said suddenly.
Damien turned to her, looking inquiring if such could be so.
"Before, in your other life, you would not care about the cost," she went on. "A simple torching would have definitely done it."
"And where did that get me?" Damien said heavily. "Dead and hated. I want to do better this time."
The smirk on Amara was beginning to die down into a gentle smile. "You are getting there."
---
Morning found Damien calling for a meeting of the group to plan their course of action.
"The taking out of the Crimson Blades has lessened Elyas's stronghold," he said authoritatively. "Next, we should concentrate on the nobility of House Draemir and House Falcrest. If we expose their aid to the rebellion, it will remove the cover from Elyas."
Carys crossed her arms. Her green eyes shot daggers at him. "They won't be easy to expose. Right now these two houses have ready cash and strong connections. They will deny close any rumors unless you have hard proof."
"In that case, we shall obtain it," Damien stated. "Loric, what do you know about their operations?"
Loric frowned in deep thought, accounting for his scarred face. "Draemir has used the southern ports to smuggle weapons and supplies to Reynard's forces, while Falcrest finances mercenaries and provides false information to the crown's forces."
Damien nodded, "Then they are our targets. We have to split into two groups. One will stop Draemir's shipments, while the other one will infiltrate and access Falcrest's network to see how they connect with Elyas."
Amara smirked, "And let me guess: I'm on the infiltration team?"
"You could say that you are the best at it," Damien replied.
"Flattery will get you everywhere," she winked back.
---
The group then divided into two small teams, each charged with an essential mission: Damien, Amara, and Carys onward to the Falcrest stronghold in the west; while Loric marched to war with him, intercepting Draemir's shipments with but a few soldiers.
The way to Falcrest was a long and treacherous journey along winding roads; as the sun went down, the golden light from the evening began to settle on this sprawling estate, standing tall among the lesser peaks.
It was but a fortress in name only; the thick stone walls with watchtowers bristling with armed guards ensured it was not easily entered.
"It's a fortress," Amara muttered, crouching beside Damien as they continued their observation of the stronghold from a ridge.
"That simply means they have something to preserve," Damien said.
With her expert eye, Carys appraised the estate. "The Falcrest records would be within the main keep. That is where they would have proof of their dealings with Elyas."
"How do we get to the keep?" Amara asked.
"We create a diversion," Damien said, drawing their attention away from the far walls.
"I love distractions," Amara said, grinning.
---
And so that night, the plan commenced.
Amara and Carys set fires in the outer courtyard; flames devoured fleeces of grass and the guards scrambled in all directions for containment. All this afforded Damien time to sneak through the base to its keep.
The inner walls were heavily guarded; real experience served him suitably. He steered like a shadow aloof from the patrols and slipped into narrow passageways.
At last, he could see it upon entering the keep's main hall: a locked room containing the ledgers, documents, and sealed correspondences.
Damien flew through the documents, looking for something linking Falcrest to Elyas and for the rebellion. It was hardly long before he found it: a whole slew of letters detailing shipments of gold and supplies to Reynard's forces, with Falcrest's seal on each.
He shoved the evidence into his satchel and turned to leave when near-perfect timing brought a pair of footsteps within hearing range.
A guard now stood in the doorway, eyes growing wide with astonishment. "Intruder!"
Before he got the chance to sound the alarm, Damien lunged, his sword drawn. The guard fell like a stone and was silent, but the noise had already attracted attention.
"Damien!" said Amara from the hallway.
He turned at the sound of her voice and saw her running toward him, daggers in hand. "We need to move! Now!"
They fought off guards on the way out of the keep. Amara and Carys had set fire to parts of the castle by then; the stronghold was in chaos.
They made it to the other walls, and Carys was waiting with a stolen horse.
"Go!" she shouted as she tossed the reins to Damien.
He jumped on with Amara grabbing at the back of him. They rode out into the night, with the keep fading from view.
---
When back in the presence of Loric and the others, Damien shared his findings with them.
"This, this here, is it," he showed them the letters. "Proof of Falcrest's involvement. With this, we won't need to think too hard; they would have no choice but to pull out their support for Elyas."
Loric nodded grimly, "And Draemir's shipments were halted. Their line of supplies sounds like hell is upon them."
And we turned the tide, Amara said with the corners of her mouth pulling into a grin.
Damien's stare hardened. "Not yet. Elyas is still out there, and he won't go down without a fight. But we're closer than we have ever been."
As the camp retired into an uneasy rest, Damien sat by the fire alone under the weight of the rebellion.
Amara stepped up to him with a light voice, "You are doing good, Damien. So keep your head up."
He glanced at her; the steely-gray eyes held determination. "I won't stop till it's over. Till he's finished."
She nodded, her smirk softening into a genuine smile. "Good. Because I'm not gonna let you do it alone."
They continued staring into the flames, the silent promise of battle to come, and redemption, now very near.