The ridge was a hellscape of fire and rain. Torches sputtered in the storm, casting flickering light over the chaos of clashing steel and blood-soaked mud. Shouts of commanders and the cries of the wounded mingled with the relentless roar of the wind. The rebellion forces held their ground, but barely—each moment felt like a knife's edge, precarious and razor-sharp.
Elyra's arm burned with exertion, her sword heavy in her hand as she cut through another soldier. Her breath came in ragged gasps, the cold rain slicking her face, mixing with the blood splattered on her cheek. The enemy forces pressed forward relentlessly, their discipline unmatched, their numbers seemingly endless.
"Mara!" Elyra bellowed, spotting her commander near the left flank. The rebels there were faltering under a concentrated push. Mara turned, her expression sharp, her cloak drenched and clinging to her frame.
"They're targeting the left hard!" Mara shouted back. "We need reinforcements, or we'll lose the ridge!"
Elyra's mind raced. The center was barely holding, and the right flank had been pushed dangerously close to the tree line. They had no reserves left to send. She clenched her jaw, her pulse pounding as she weighed the impossible options.
"Pull from the center—"
Before she could finish, a deafening crash of steel on steel stole her attention. She turned sharply to see Kael's forces driving a battering ram up the narrow path toward the ridge's heart.
Her stomach dropped. If they broke through there, the ridge was lost.
"Mara, hold the left!" Elyra yelled, spinning back toward the front lines. "I'll deal with this!"
Mara's expression was tight, but she nodded, disappearing into the chaos.
Elyra charged toward the ridge's center, her boots slipping in the mud, her heart thundering in her chest. She could see Kael now, just behind the ram, his dark armor catching the dim torchlight. He was shouting orders, his voice calm and commanding despite the storm.
The sight of him struck her like a blow, but she forced herself to focus. He wasn't the man she had once known—not here, not now. He was her enemy, and he was about to destroy everything she had fought for.
"Reinforce the barricades!" Elyra shouted to her soldiers as she reached the line. "Stop that ram at all costs!"
The rebels surged forward, rallying around her as the battering ram drew closer. The storm made everything harder—the ground was treacherous, the rain blinding, the noise deafening. But Elyra pressed on, her sword cutting through the chaos as she fought her way toward the ram.
Her heart leapt into her throat as Kael turned, his eyes finding hers through the haze of battle. For a brief moment, time seemed to slow.
He hesitated.
So did she.
But the moment passed as quickly as it came. Kael's expression hardened, and he shouted something to his soldiers. They surged forward, driving the ram closer to the barricades.
Elyra gritted her teeth and charged, her sword cutting through the rain. The clash was brutal, the enemy soldiers skilled and relentless, but she fought with the desperation of someone who had everything to lose.
"Push them back!" she yelled, her voice raw. "Do not let them through!"
The rebels responded with renewed fervor, their determination ignited by her presence. They pressed forward, meeting the enemy head-on, their shouts rising above the storm.
Elyra was in the thick of it, her blade flashing as she fought her way toward the ram. Every swing was precise, every movement calculated, but her strength was waning. She could feel it in her arms, her legs, the deep ache in her chest.
And then, suddenly, Kael was there.
He stepped into her path, his sword already raised, his eyes locked on hers. The storm seemed to fade into the background, the noise of the battle dulling as the two of them faced each other.
"Elyra," he said, his voice steady but low. "This needs to stop. Call off your forces."
She laughed bitterly, the sound harsh even to her own ears. "You think I'll surrender? After everything you've done?"
His jaw tightened. "You're throwing lives away for nothing. You don't have to do this."
Her grip on her sword tightened. "I'm fighting for my people. For their freedom. That's not 'nothing.'"
"And how many of them will die tonight because of your pride?" he shot back, his voice sharp.
His words hit her like a physical blow, but she didn't let it show. She couldn't. Not here, not now.
"This isn't pride," she said, her voice cold. "This is survival."
Kael's eyes searched hers, as if trying to find the girl he had once known. But Elyra didn't flinch. She couldn't afford to.
"Then so be it," he said quietly, his voice filled with something she couldn't quite name.
He moved first, his blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. Elyra met him blow for blow, their swords ringing out in the storm. It was a dance of fury and desperation, neither giving an inch.
"Why, Kael?" Elyra demanded between strikes, her voice raw with emotion. "Why did you betray us?"
"I didn't betray you!" he shouted, his sword crashing against hers. "I did what I had to do—to save my people. To save you."
The words stunned her, her guard faltering for a split second. Kael seized the opportunity, disarming her with a swift, practiced movement. Her sword clattered to the ground, and she stumbled back, slipping in the mud.
Kael didn't press the advantage. Instead, he held his ground, his chest heaving, his sword lowered.
"You don't have to die here, Elyra," he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "Walk away. Please."
Elyra's heart pounded as she stared at him, the storm raging around them. She could see the truth in his eyes—the conflict, the pain. But it didn't matter.
She couldn't walk away.
With a burst of strength, she lunged forward, grabbing her fallen sword. Kael didn't stop her, but his expression darkened.
"This ends here," she said, her voice steely. "One way or another."
Their eyes met one last time before the battle surged around them once more, pulling them back into the chaos.