The dust from the battle settled over the canyon, leaving behind a stark silence that was broken only by the distant cries of wounded soldiers and the soft clatter of armor. Ashar stood at the mouth of the canyon, his breath shallow and ragged, his body bruised, and his armor stained with blood. The battle was won, but the cost was evident. Many of his people lay wounded on the ground, some of them already too far gone to save. He could hear the agonized cries of those who had survived, their pain cutting through him like a knife.
He turned to see Karis kneeling beside one of the wounded, her brow furrowed in concentration as she applied pressure to a gaping wound on the soldier's side. Her movements were swift and practiced, but even she couldn't hide the exhaustion in her eyes. The fight had taken its toll on all of them.
"You did well," Ashar said, his voice hoarse as he approached her. He had seen the strength in her earlier, in the heat of battle, but now the weight of the fight seemed to settle heavily on her shoulders.
She looked up at him, a grim smile crossing her face for a brief moment. "We all did. But it's not over. Not by a long shot."
Ashar's gaze turned to the horizon. The Orcs had been pushed back for now, but they would return, stronger and more prepared. The victory they'd achieved was only temporary—one battle in a war that was far from finished. And the price of that victory was steep.
"We need to tend to the wounded," Karis said, standing up and wiping the blood from her hands. "And then, we need to regroup. The Orcs won't take this defeat lightly."
Ashar nodded, the weight of his responsibility pressing down on him. His people had won, but the battle had left them vulnerable. They couldn't afford to linger. Not when the Orcs would be plotting their next move.
"Gather the men," Ashar said. "We need to fortify the canyon and make sure we're ready for what's coming next."
***
The days following the battle were filled with hard work and quiet mourning. Ashar's army was weary, and many of them carried injuries, some of them serious. But they couldn't afford to rest for long. The wounded were patched up as best as they could, and the army turned its attention to reinforcing their position in the canyon.
Ashar spent long hours overseeing the construction of makeshift barricades and traps, all while coordinating the efforts to scavenge for food and water. His mind raced constantly, trying to anticipate the Orcs' next move. He knew they would be coming. The Orcs weren't a people to take defeat lightly. They were cruel and relentless, and they would want revenge for what had happened here.
As the days passed, Ashar found himself spending more and more time alone, trying to gather his thoughts. He knew that the victory was just a small victory in the grand scheme of things, and that it would only take one misstep to undo all the progress they had made. Every choice he made felt like it could be the difference between survival and annihilation. He couldn't afford to fail them.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Karis found him standing on a rocky outcrop, staring out over the valley. The light of the dying day painted the landscape in shades of orange and gold, but Ashar didn't notice. His mind was elsewhere.
"You're burning yourself out," Karis said softly, stepping up beside him. "You've been at this for days without rest. The men need you. But they also need you to be at your best."
Ashar didn't respond immediately. He couldn't. The pressure he felt was suffocating, and no matter how much he tried to escape it, it followed him everywhere.
"I can't afford to rest," he finally said, his voice low, the weight of his words heavy. "If I let up, even for a moment, everything could fall apart. I can't let them down."
Karis was quiet for a moment, as if weighing her words. "You're not alone, Ashar. You never were. We're all in this together. You've led us through the worst, but we need you to lead with clarity. Not with exhaustion."
He turned to face her then, his eyes dark with the burden he carried. "What if I fail? What if I make the wrong decision?"
"You won't," Karis said firmly. "You haven't so far. You're not perfect, and none of us are, but you're what we need. You gave us hope when we had none. And we'll fight beside you, no matter what."
Ashar looked down at his hands, the calluses and dirt worn into his skin. He didn't feel like the hero she saw. He felt like a man teetering on the edge of a cliff, one wrong step away from losing everything.
"I don't know if I can do this," he murmured.
"You don't have to do it alone," Karis repeated, her voice softer now, but no less firm. "We're a family, Ashar. Lean on us when you need to."
Her words brought him some comfort, but the nagging doubt still lingered in the back of his mind. They were all counting on him, and he couldn't fail them. Not now. Not after everything they had fought for.
***
It wasn't long before Ashar's worst fears began to materialize. The Orcs were not retreating into the wilderness, as he had hoped. No, they were regrouping, gathering reinforcements, and preparing for a larger assault. Ashar's scouts had confirmed that a massive Orc warband, numbering well over 1,500, was already on the move. Their forces had been bolstered with siege weapons and war beasts, a clear sign that they were preparing for a full-scale assault on Ashar's position.
And yet, in the midst of preparing for the Orcs' return, Ashar discovered something far more sinister—something that would shake him to his core.
It was Rylah who first brought it to him. Her face was grim as she approached him, her voice low.
"There's something you need to know," she said, her eyes darting around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "One of our own has been working with the Orcs."
Ashar froze, his heart pounding in his chest. "What? Who?"
"I'm not sure yet," Rylah said, her voice tight with the weight of the revelation. "But I found signs—leaked information about our plans, movements, and supply caches. It's too much of a coincidence."
Ashar's mind raced. A traitor among them? The idea was incomprehensible. He had trusted everyone here, fought alongside them through thick and thin. How could one of them betray him?
"Who else knows?" Ashar asked, his voice low.
"Just me," Rylah replied. "But I'm going to find out who it is. We can't let this go on."
Ashar nodded, but inside, a storm of emotions raged. He had already been facing an uphill battle against the Orcs, but now, the enemy was within his own ranks.
"I'll handle it," Ashar said, his jaw clenched. "We can't let this undermine everything we've fought for."
The discovery of the traitor weighed heavily on Ashar's mind. But there was no time for contemplation—only action. He had to deal with the Orcs, the betrayal, and the future of his people all at once.
The stakes were higher than ever before. And Ashar had to be stronger than he had ever been—because the next battle would decide everything.