Chapter 5: The Road to Eldoria
The sky above the Elarian plains was dark, thick clouds rolling in as if to cover the world from hope. The silence that enveloped The Crimson Blades felt like an echo from the previous battlefield. The dry earth beneath their feet seemed to protest quietly, much like their hearts, beginning to be haunted by fatigue and sorrow.
At the front of the line, Caelum walked with no hesitation. His shadow, cast by the remnants of the setting sun, appeared larger than his true form, an illusion that mirrored the weight he bore. The Raedan sword, now hanging on his back, felt heavier than usual—not because of the metal, but because of the memories it contained.
"We need to reach Eldoria before the sun sets," Caelum said firmly. He didn't turn, as if not wanting his gaze to be distracted from the goal he had set.
Torren, always on alert, took a step forward and approached Caelum. "Are you sure they won't chase us?" he asked suspiciously.
Caelum gave a small nod, his movements almost mechanical. "The Empire's forces are regrouping for their southern invasion. Losing the caravan carrying their plans will delay that. But that only gives us a little time."
In the rear, Elira walked beside him. She never imagined that the man before her could change so drastically. Since the night of Raedan's funeral, something had been lost from Caelum—or perhaps something had emerged, a new fiery spirit inside him.
"We've lost so many," Elira said finally, breaking the silence. "What will you do for them? For us?"
Caelum stopped for a moment, his gaze fixed on their small, weary group—faces covered in dust and despair.
"We endure," he said simply. "And we make sure their sacrifices were not in vain."
His answer was blunt, even almost perfect. But Elira could sense something colder hiding behind his words, like the echo of emptiness.
---
The sun began to dip as they reached the Eldwyn Forest. The towering ancient trees cast long shadows across the path, creating an intimidating atmosphere. Eldwyn was not just a forest; it was the border between the human world and the realm of the elves, a place where unwritten laws were upheld by invisible bows.
"Elira," Caelum called suddenly, his voice breaking the tense silence. "You lead. You know how to speak with them."
Elira nodded silently, though in her mind, she couldn't stop wondering how Caelum knew so much about this place. Raedan had never mentioned it in their previous conversations.
But before they could move forward, a long whistle pierced the air. An arrow lodged into a tree trunk just ahead of Caelum.
"Stop!" A commanding voice shattered the silence. From the shadows of the forest, several elven rangers emerged, their bows trained on The Crimson Blades, their eyes sharp with alertness.
A woman stepped forward from their ranks. Her hair was dark green like old moss, and her golden eyes regarded them with cold disdain.
"You bring war into our land," she said, her tone accusatory. "Give me a reason not to end you here."
Caelum stepped forward, raising his hand in a gesture of peace. His gaze locked with that of the elven leader, unwavering. "We don't bring war. We only wish to pass through."
The woman narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing Caelum as if trying to read the depths of his soul. "No human passes through Eldwyn without a good reason. Weapons and the scent of blood on you do not suggest peace."
"But we carry something far more important," Caelum said, his voice low but filled with certainty. "Information about the Empire. If you let us pass, we can help prevent the destruction they plan. But if you stop us... perhaps this forest will burn."
The tension hung heavy, like a thick shadow. Elira glanced at Caelum, sensing a change in the way he spoke. Since when had he spoken like a leader? Raedan might be gone, but his spirit—or perhaps his shadow—seemed to have attached itself to Caelum.
After what felt like an eternity, the elven woman lowered her bow. "You have until sunset to leave our lands. Do not try anything foolish, or you will die here."
Caelum gave a short bow. "Thank you."
---
As the rangers disappeared into the shadows, Carl approached Caelum with a mocking expression.
"You're too weak," he said cynically. "If they attacked, we could crush them."
Caelum looked at him coldly, his gaze enough to freeze a soul. "And lose half of our forces? We can't fight with emotion. If you want to die for nothing, don't drag us down with you."
Carl fell silent, but the dissatisfaction still simmered on his face. On the other hand, Elira stepped closer with a gentler tone.
"You did well," she said softly. "But... are you okay?"
Caelum furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"
Elira sighed, pausing for a moment before continuing. "I know this is hard for you—leading us after losing Raedan. I just want you to know you're not alone."
For a moment, Caelum's eyes met Elira's, but then he looked away.
"I'm fine," he answered shortly. But deep inside, he knew it was just a lie to cover the fragility that still haunted him.
---
That night, as the campfire crackled in the darkness, Caelum sat alone. Raedan's sword lay before him, its reflection dancing in the flames. In the silence, his thoughts returned to the shadows that always haunted him.
"Is this what you wanted?" he whispered softly, as if speaking to someone invisible. "I'm so close... so close."
Yet, there was no answer. Only the crackling fire, almost mocking his solitude. But within that silence, another voice echoed in his mind—the voice he hadn't heard in so long.
"You need to find something bigger than this vengeance, Caelum," the voice said. It was Raedan's voice. "If not, you'll just become like those you hate."
Caelum clenched his fists, trying to banish the voice. He didn't want to hear it. Not now.
---
When morning came, The Crimson Blades continued their journey toward Eldoria. Yet in Caelum's heart, unspoken questions began to arise. Who was he without this vengeance? What would be left when this war was finally over?
The sky above the Elarian plains seemed just as grim, as if even nature understood the mood of The Crimson Blades. The group moved in silence, only the sound of footsteps on the dry earth and the rustling of wind carrying the scent of blood from the previous battle.
Caelum led the way, his gaze fixed firmly ahead. The Raedan sword he now carried on his back felt heavy—not because of the metal, but because of the responsibility that came with it.
"We need to reach Eldoria before the sun sets," he said, without looking back.
"Are you sure the Empire won't chase us?" Torren asked, his voice cautious.
Caelum only nodded. "They're regrouping after losing the caravan. We have time, but not much."
Elira, walking beside him, looked at Caelum with a questioning gaze. He was not the same Caelum she once knew. Since Raedan's funeral, there was something different about the way he carried himself—more decisive, but also colder.
"What about us?" Elira finally asked. "We've lost so many. What's your plan for them?"
Caelum stopped for a moment, looking back at their small, exhausted group.
"We'll keep walking," he answered simply. "And we make sure their sacrifices were not in vain."
The answer sounded right, but Elira felt something empty behind his words.