The bridge trembled beneath their feet as Joren and Lyria ran. The fog enveloped the surroundings, wrapping itself around them in ethereal wisps, obscuring the boundaries of reality. In the distance, cries echoed, and the sound of boots striking the aged wooden floor reverberated.
Joren's pulse roared in his ears. His mind worked furiously, calculating distances, speeds, the weight of the supplies in his satchel—how long before they were caught? Too soon.
"Faster!" Lyria gasped beside him. She clutched his wrist, her grip tight, her breath sharp with urgency.
"We need cover," he said, scanning the landscape ahead. The far end of the bridge was closer, but the open ground beyond offered little shelter. The Caldrisian border post was still too far.
Lyria cursed under her breath. "The cliffs—there's a path beneath the bridge."
Joren barely had time to process the words before an arrow whistled past his ear. He ducked instinctively, yanking Lyria down with him. Another arrow struck the railing, splintering the wood with a sharp crack.
"Damn it." He pulled her toward the edge. "Go!"
Lyria didn't hesitate. She swung one leg over the railing, gripping the damp wood as she searched for footing. The descent was not transparent; below them, sharp rocks protruded from the riverbank, covered in mist. A slender, meandering trail clung to the cliffside, partially obscured by dense vines.
Joren glanced back. The soldiers were closing in, shadows moving through the fog.
No time.
He swung over the railing just as a sword sliced through the space where he had been standing. The weight of his satchel nearly threw him off balance, but he managed to land on the narrow ledge beside Lyria.
"Keep moving," she whispered.
They edged along the dangerous path, feet slipping on loose gravel. The roar of the river below drowned out the shouts above. The mist worked in their favor now, covering them from sight, but the path was treacherous.
Lyria moved like someone who had walked these hidden trails before, but even she hesitated when they reached a sharp turn where the path crumbled away, leaving only a narrow ridge.
Joren exhaled through gritted teeth. "We can jump it."
Lyria shot him a look. "You're insane."
"Do you have a better idea?"
A distant voice echoed from above.
"They went down there—find them!"
No time.
Joren adjusted his grip on his satchel and leaped. His boots barely caught the edge of the crumbling path on the other side. Gravel skittered into the abyss below as he steadied himself, heart hammering.
Lyria didn't hesitate. She took a running start and jumped.
Her foot slipped.
Joren lunged forward, grabbing her arm before she could plummet into the river. The sudden weight nearly dragged him down with her, but he dug his heels into the rocky ground and pulled.
Lyria scrambled for purchase, her fingers finding a jagged root.
She pulled herself up, her chest rising and falling rapidly. For a brief moment, neither of them shifted, their hands firmly held together, it was the comfort they had in each other.
Then, she released a breathless, trembling laugh. "I swear i'm going to kill you, once this is over."
Joren grinned. "Fair."
They didn't have time to rest. Voices carried through the mist—closer. The Velmoran soldiers weren't far behind.
Lyria pointed ahead. "There's a cave system further down. If we can reach it, we can lose them."
Joren nodded, forcing his aching legs to move. The path narrowed further, but the promise of cover pushed them forward.
Behind them, the first soldier reached the ledge they had jumped. A low curse followed.
"After them!"
Joren and Lyria ran.
The cave entrance was barely visible, a dark maw hidden among the rocks. They ducked inside just as another arrow struck the cliffside, sending shards of stone scattering.
Inside, the air was damp with the scent of earth. The cave twisted into darkness, offering no immediate escape—only the unknown.
Joren turned to Lyria, their faces half-lit by the faint light filtering in from the entrance. "I hope you know where this leads."
She exhaled. "Not exactly."
Outside, the soldiers were coming.
Joren pulled a small device from his satchel—a modified flare. "Then we make our own way."
He struck the trigger.
Light bloomed, casting flickering shadows along the cavern walls. The unknown stretched before them.
With no other choice, they ran deeper into the darkness.
--
The cave swallowed them whole, the light of Joren's flare casting restless shadows along the damp stone walls. The air was thick with the scent of wet earth and something older—something ancient.
Lyria placed a hand against the wall for support, her breathing rapid and irregular. They had sprinted further into the tunnels, the soldiers' shouts gradually diminishing in the distance. But the danger hadn't passed.
Joren shook out his wrist, the flare still burning in his grip. "This path better lead somewhere."
Lyria's eyes turned to him, the ghost of an old memory behind them. "It does."
Joren caught the hesitation in her voice. "But?"
She exhaled, turning forward. "But we may not like where it takes us."
The tunnel sloped downward, narrowing as the walls pressed in. The surface of the stone was smooth and slippery, saturated with moisture that oozed from hidden fissures. As they ventured further, the sound of cascading water intensified, a constant and powerful din resonating beneath them.
Joren's grip tightened on the flare. "Is there another way out?"
Lyria hesitated. "Not unless you want to climb back toward the soldiers."
Joren cursed under his breath. They had no choice.
The tunnel curved sharply, then opened into a cavern so vast it seemed to breathe. Stalactites protruded from the ceiling resembling sharp fangs, while beneath them, a river meandered through the shadows, its surface shimmering with a silvery hue in the faint illumination. The current was fast—too fast.
Joren edged toward the ledge, scanning for any sign of a safe crossing. "Tell me there's a bridge."
Lyria swallowed hard. "There was."
Joren turned. "Was?"
She pointed to the remains of a decaying stone arch, its fractured edges protruding from the water reminiscent of the ribs of a long-extinct creature. The remainder had been consumed by the river many years prior.
Joren let out a slow breath. "Great."
A shout echoed from behind them, bouncing off the stone. The soldiers were getting closer.
Lyria stepped closer to the ledge, her fingers brushing against the smooth, worn stone. "The river is strong, but it has crossings." Her voice was steady..
She had been here before.
Joren studied her. "How do you know?"
Lyria didn't look at him. "Because I survived it once."
Her words settled between them. Joren didn't ask. Not yet.
The tunnel behind them pulsed with the distant glow of torchlight.
No time.
Joren glanced at the river again. The current was wild, sprouting around hidden rocks, but there were outcroppings—jagged stones that jutted from the water, slick but possible to cross.
"We can make it," he said. "If we time it right."
Lyria nodded, already pulling her cloak tighter. "Then we better move."
She went first.
Lyria stepped onto the first rock, arms outstretched for balance. The water surged around her boots, but she moved with practiced ease, leaping to the next stone before the river could pull her in.
Joren followed, testing his footing before jumping. The rocks were slick, but he kept his balance, keeping his eyes on Lyria.
Halfway across, the current surged. A wave struck the rocks, sending a spray of icy water over them. Lyria wavered, her foot slipping.
Joren lunged, grabbing her wrist before she could fall.
Their eyes locked—just for a second. Then she steadied, nodding once.
They moved together, leaping from stone to stone, the roar of the river drowning out all else. The far bank was close.
Then, behind them, the soldiers reached the cavern.
"There!"
A crossbow twanged.
The bolt struck the rock near Joren's foot, shattering the stone. He cursed, jumping to the next outcropping.
Lyria was almost to the shore.
Another bolt whistled through the air. Joren ducked, his foot slipping as the river's spray caught him off guard.
His balance tipped.
The world tilted.
Cold.
The water seized him, yanking him under. The roar became deafening, swallowing his breath, his thoughts. He was spinning, dragged by the current.
A hand.
Warm fingers gripped his wrist, pulling—forcing him upward. His head broke the surface.
Lyria.
She held onto him with all her strength, her other hand clutching a jagged rock. Her muscles trembled, the effort pulling a cry from her throat.
"Joren—"
A shadow hovered behind her.
A soldier.
Sword raised.
Joren barely had time to react.
--
The soldier's blade came down—
Lyria twisted, yanking Joren forward as she lunged. The river's spray made her footing treacherous, but instinct carried her. The soldier's sword barely missed, striking the stone where she had been a heartbeat ago. Sparks flew.
Joren lifted himself onto the riverbank, his body trembling from the cold. His lungs burned, each breath ragged as he forced himself upright.
Lyria wasn't beside him.
His gaze snapped back.
The soldier grabbed Lyria's arm, yanking her away from the rock. She stumbled, her boots skidding over slick stone, but she fought against his grip, teeth bared in a silent snarl.
Joren didn't think. He moved.
He surged forward, tackling the soldier from behind. They hit the ground hard, the impact jarring through his bones. Joren swung, his fist colliding with the man's jaw. The soldier grunted, his grip on Lyria loosening just enough.
Lyria didn't hesitate. She drove her knee up, slamming it into the soldier's ribs. He gasped, doubling over—
Joren grabbed her wrist. "Run."
They didn't look back.
The tunnel twisted before them, darkness curling around the edges of their vision. Joren's pulse pounded in his skull, his soaked clothes weighing him down, but he kept moving, feet slamming against the ground. Lyria was just ahead, her breath shallow.
The cavern's exit appeared in the distance—a jagged archway of stone. Beyond it, the forest. Safety.
They were going to make it.
Then a horn sounded.
The echo chased them, rolling like thunder through the tunnels.
Joren clenched his teeth. "They're calling for reinforcements."
Lyria didn't slow. "Then we have to be faster."
The tunnel's end was near. Joren could already see the trees, their dark silhouettes reaching out like skeletal hands.
And then—
An arrow.
It struck the stone just inches from Joren's head, shattering on impact.
Lyria turned, eyes wide.
Another arrow. This time, it found its mark.
Lyria let out a strangled cry as it grazed her arm, a thin line of red blooming against her sleeve.
Joren caught her before she could fall, half-dragging, half-carrying her toward the exit. "Keep moving!"
The soldiers were closing in. Their shouts grew louder, boots pounding against the cavern floor.
Joren's mind raced. They wouldn't outrun them. Not like this.
They needed a diversion.
He scanned the cavern, his gaze locking onto the weakened stone near the ceiling—stalactites barely held in place by time and moisture.
He turned to Lyria. "Can you still run?"
She nodded, though her face was pale. "What are you thinking?"
Joren grabbed a jagged rock from the ground, weighing it in his palm.
"Buying us time."
With all his strength, he hurled the rock at the ceiling.
The crack echoed through the tunnel.
Then—
A groan. Deep, ancient.
The rock gave way.
Stalactites broke free, crashing down like falling spears. The tunnel trembled, the collapse sending a wave of dust and debris into the air.
Joren didn't wait to see the soldiers react. He grabbed Lyria's hand and ran.
They burst from the cavern just as the final rocks fell, sealing the entrance behind them.
Silence.
For a moment, all they could hear was the distant rush of the river and their own ragged breaths.
Lyria swayed. Joren caught her, easing her to the ground. He knelt beside her, his hands hovering over the wound on her arm. The arrow had only grazed her, but the cut was deep. Blood stained her sleeve.
Joren tore a strip from his already-ruined shirt and pressed it against the wound. "Hold this."
Lyria winced but didn't argue.
Joren exhaled, running a hand through his wet hair. His fingers trembled. He barely noticed. "That was close."
Lyria's voice was quieter. "Too close."
The reality of what had just happened settled between them. The soldiers. The chase. The near-death escape.
The war was escalating.
Joren glanced toward the horizon, where the lights of Caldris and Velmora lit in the distance—two nations on the brink of something irreversible.
Lyria followed his gaze. "They'll see this as an act of war."
Joren's jaw clenched. "Maybe it already is."
Their escape had consequences. The bridge was no longer a secret crossing. Their presence had sparked something that couldn't be undone.
And somewhere, deep beneath the river, something stirred.