We moved quickly, breaking down camp as the wind shifted.
I swept my hand across the horizon, muttering under my breath. "Detect magic."
Tory glanced around. "That won't work. They're using undetectable enchantments."
I smirked. "Nothing's truly undetectable."
Drawing my blade, I pricked my thumb and let a thin line of blood trail down. Tory moved toward me, alarmed.
"Lia—what are you—"
"Stop. I'm fine."
I bent down and dragged my bleeding thumb through the dirt, drawing an old sigil in the shape of a compass. The blood glowed faintly against the earth. Tory watched in silence as I whispered:
"Nae'len tal'quessir mirian. Dir'thal vir nael."(Let the lost path of elven kin reveal the hunter's prey.)
The hand on the compass spun once—twice—and then snapped north.
Tory's brow furrowed. "What the hell kind of spell is that?"
"Old elven magic. Learned it from a scroll I... borrowed."
We followed the direction it gave us, staying low, hidden in the trees. Eventually, we reached a hilltop—but it was empty. Flat grass, a few rocks. No camp. No enemy.
I frowned. I hadn't made a mistake. The spell had worked.
Tory stepped closer, placing his hand gently on my forehead. I recoiled.
"What are you—"
"Just... trust me, Lia."
I hesitated. Then nodded.
Tory closed his eyes, whispered an incantation:"Illusio rupta, revelare verum."(Break illusion, reveal the truth.)
The hill shimmered—and vanished. In its place stood a small camp: three tents, a smoldering campfire, and one robed man warming his hands.
"There's only one," Tory whispered.
"No. Three," I said. "Three tents. Three sitting stones. Enough food for three."
Moments later, two more figures emerged from the tents. They all pulled down their hoods.
Tory's eyes widened. His face went pale.
"I know them," he whispered. "We were in the same class. I haven't seen them since they joined the Order."
I looked at him. He looked... broken.
"You sure you're ready for this?"
"What do you mean?"
"We might have to kill them, Tory."
He recoiled as if I'd slapped him. I watched his expression twist—fear, disgust, sadness.
He looked down. Then back at me. "These are good people. Just because they're in the Order doesn't mean they deserve to die. Maybe we can scare them off. Or convince them to help us."
I didn't believe that. But the look on his face made it hard to argue.
"What are their specialties?"
"The tall one—Rax—is a fire mage. Strong, but reckless. The blonde, Marell, she's an ice specialist—sharp, precise, quick. And the short one—Kaela—is a druid. She's probably their leader. She's smart. Deceptive. And terrifying if she gets close."
The Plan:
Rax (Fire Mage): Disrupt his fire magic with water or earth. Bind fast.
Marell (Ice Mage): Trick her into overextending with illusions. Disarm, then bind.
Kaela (Druid): Avoid close range. Keep her grounded. Fire or acid to counter vines. Bind last.
I crept through the brush. One flick of the wrist—Rax turned with a startled grunt as I cast a mud surge, soaking his robes and suppressing his fire channel. A second flick, and he was wrapped in magical chains.
"INTRUDER!" Marell shouted, hurling a shard of ice. I ducked, sidestepped, and threw a flash spark—the light blinded her, and I disarmed her with a sharp gust of wind.
Kaela shouted something in druidic—and the ground erupted, roots rising to grab at me. I flipped backward, but one vine snagged my ankle, and another snapped toward my ribs. I burned them away with a narrow flame ring, but I was already sweating.
Too many at once. My spells were starting to slow.
Then—
"LIA!"
Tory appeared—out in the open. The three turned, shocked.
"Tory?!""What—how are you here?""Help us kill this woman!"
He looked at them. Looked at me. Then raised his hand—and fired a blast directly at Rax, slamming him against a tree.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Marell screamed.
"She's controlling you!" Kaela snarled. "You've been brainwashed!, Snap Out of it Tory!"
Tory stepped in front of me.
"She didn't brainwash me. I'm following her out of my own free will.
They went silent.
We fought side-by-side. Tory bound Marell in thick frost chains while I tripped Kaela with a sweep of fire. The vines around us burned. The last of the fight ended when I blasted Kaela's staff in half with a lightning strike.
Silence.
Panting. Smoke. Burnt leaves.
The three lay defeated, bound, but alive.
"We're not going to KILL you," I said. "But if you follow us again, next time we won't be so kind."
"We surrender," Kaela groaned.
Tory turned to me. "Do you trust them?"
I hesitated... "Do you?"
"Yes."
I sighed. "Then untie them."
He did. Rax and Marell stood up slowly and walked toward the tents.
"You owe us one hell of a drink, Tory," Rax muttered.
"Yeah," Marell added. "And a damn good story."
Tory smiled softly. "I'll buy the first round."
Then he turned to Kaela, who stood, watching him.
She stepped close and hugged him. Hard.
"I have something to tell you."
She whispered into his ear.
I couldn't hear it—but I saw the way Tory's face changed. Pale. Shaken.
He shoved her back, eyes wide. "LIA! WATCH OUT!"
A vine-spike burst from the ground—ripping through my shoulder.
I screamed. Agony. Blinding. Burning.
My knees buckled. I could feel myself slipping—vision flickering—
And in that last moment, I saw Tory's eyes.
Blank. Haunted. Just like the day his family died.
Then darkness.
Day 13.