The storm had passed by morning, leaving the forest soaked and heavy with mist. The survivors moved slowly, their clothes drenched, their weapons slick with rain. Every step felt heavier than the last, but they pressed on, their resolve unbroken.
Elena walked at the front of the group, the Broken Crown hidden in her pack. Its weight seemed to grow with each passing hour, not just in her hands but in her mind. She could still feel the echo of its power, the way it had surged through her veins during the fight.
It worked, she thought. But for how long?
Cassian broke the silence, his voice low but firm. "We need to rest soon. The group is exhausted."
Elena glanced back at the survivors. Maren was at the rear, her bow slung over her shoulder, her steps slow but steady. The others moved in tense silence, their faces pale and drawn.
"We'll stop at the next clearing," Elena said.
Cassian nodded, though his silver eyes remained sharp, scanning the treeline. "We're not far from the ridge. It'll give us high ground to see anyone approaching."
They reached the clearing by midday. It was a small, open space surrounded by towering trees, the ground soft with moss. The survivors collapsed in relief, leaning against rocks and tree trunks as they caught their breath.
Elena moved among them, offering quiet words of encouragement. She could see the weariness in their faces, the way their hands shook as they clutched their weapons.
"You're doing well," she told Maren, who was sharpening her arrows.
Maren looked up, her brow furrowed. "Am I? We've barely survived the last two attacks, and more soldiers are coming. How long until we can't hold them off?"
Elena crouched beside her, her voice steady. "As long as we keep moving, keep fighting, we have a chance. That's all we need."
Maren's lips pressed into a thin line, but she nodded.
As the group rested, Cassian approached Elena, his expression grim.
"We need to talk," he said.
Elena followed him to the edge of the clearing, where they could speak without being overheard.
"What is it?" she asked.
Cassian's gaze flicked to her pack, where the crown was hidden. "The crown is powerful, but it's not enough. Lucian's forces are too many, and they're too organized. We need more than magic to win this."
"I know," Elena said. "We need people—fighters. But every village we find is either empty or broken. Where are we supposed to turn?"
Cassian hesitated before answering. "There's one place left. A place that's avoided Lucian's grasp so far."
Elena frowned. "Where?"
"The Iron Keep," he said. "It's a fortress in the mountains, controlled by the Free Riders. They're mercenaries, but they hate Lucian as much as we do. If we can convince them to join us, they could turn the tide."
Elena considered this, her mind racing. "What's the catch?"
Cassian's expression darkened. "The Free Riders don't trust easily. They'll want something in return—something we might not be able to give."
Elena nodded slowly. "Then we'll convince them. Whatever it takes."
The decision was made. By the time the group set out again, the sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows across the forest floor.
Cassian led the way this time, guiding them toward the mountains in the distance. The air grew colder as they climbed, the trees thinning to reveal rocky cliffs and jagged peaks.
"We'll camp here tonight," Cassian said as they reached a narrow plateau.
The survivors set up a small camp, lighting a fire that flickered weakly against the growing wind.
Elena sat near the edge of the plateau, staring out at the horizon. The mountains loomed ahead, their peaks shrouded in mist.
"You're quiet," Maren said, sitting down beside her.
"I'm thinking," Elena replied.
"About the crown?"
Elena nodded. "About everything. The crown, the Free Riders, Lucian. It feels like every step we take is just leading us to another fight."
"That's because it is," Maren said, her voice tinged with weariness. "But you've kept us alive this long. That's more than most could do."
Elena glanced at her, surprised. "Do you really believe that?"
Maren met her gaze, her expression softening. "I do. You've given us something to believe in, Elena. Don't forget that."
The night passed uneventfully, though the air grew colder as the hours stretched on. Elena couldn't sleep. She lay awake, staring up at the stars, the weight of the crown and her choices pressing on her like a stone.
Cassian approached, his footsteps soft. He sat down beside her, his silver eyes glinting faintly in the starlight.
"You're still awake," he said.
"So are you," Elena replied.
Cassian smirked faintly. "I don't sleep much. Too many things to think about."
"Like what?"
He hesitated before answering. "Like what happens if we fail."
Elena turned to look at him, her brow furrowed. "We won't fail."
Cassian's smirk faded, his expression serious. "You're sure about that?"
Elena didn't answer immediately. She looked out at the horizon, her voice quiet but firm. "We can't fail. Too many people are counting on us."
Cassian nodded, though his gaze remained distant. "Then we'd better make sure we're ready for what's coming."
As dawn broke, the group began their climb into the mountains. The path grew steeper and narrower, the air colder with every step.
By midday, they reached the gates of the Iron Keep.
The fortress was carved into the side of a mountain, its walls high and impenetrable. Guards stood at the gates, their armor gleaming, their weapons ready.
Elena stepped forward, her heart pounding. "We need to speak to your leader," she said, her voice steady.
The guards exchanged glances before one of them stepped forward. "And why would the Free Riders care about you?"
Elena straightened her spine, meeting his gaze. "Because we're building an army. And if you stand with us, we can bring Lucian down."
The guard raised an eyebrow, but he didn't reply. Instead, he turned and disappeared through the gates, leaving the group to wait in tense silence.
"Do you think they'll listen?" Maren whispered.
"They'll listen," Cassian said quietly. "But whether they'll help—that's another story."
The gates creaked open, and a tall figure emerged. A woman clad in dark armor, her eyes sharp and calculating, strode toward them.
"I'm Commander Nyra," she said, her voice cold and authoritative. "You have one chance to convince me why I shouldn't throw you off this mountain."
Elena stepped forward, her heart steady despite the threat.
"Because if you don't help us," she said, her voice unwavering, "Lucian will burn this world to ash. And you'll burn with it."