The sky over Kaziana burned blood-red as dusk approached.
It wasn't just the sun's dying light—it was an old wound torn open again—exposed, raw, and simmering with unspoken pain.
Clouds rolled slowly, carrying the weight of unfinished history.
In this land, silence didn't mean peace, and calm didn't guarantee safety.
Kael Zareth stood alone atop the Surya Tower, his figure as still as a marble statue carved to honor the ancient guardians.
The evening wind whipped through his black hair.
His eyes—the eyes of a man who never forgot—stared far eastward, toward the fading border between Kaziana and Meirah.
Here, peace had once been promised.
Here, trust had crumbled like rotten stone.
Two days had passed.
Armea had not returned.
"She's late…" Kael's voice was barely more than a breath, thrown to the faithful wind.
His words seemed to seep into the burning sky, echoing across the vast heavens.
Footsteps approached.
Teyron, First Elite Strategist, appeared, his face carrying more than just bad news.
In his hand—a neatly folded letter, its corner stained with dried blood.
"Our messenger from the east was shot down at the border," Teyron said, forcing his voice steady.
"Our scout… he saw Meirah's shadows roaming near Labuh Valley. They no longer hide."
Kael snatched the letter, his eyes scanning the words with quiet fury.
Only a few words were needed to shatter the dam of his patience.
Suddenly, he slammed the letter against the stone wall, causing ancient carvings to crack.
"Revail has broken the treaty," he said slowly, each word a sharpened blade.
Teyron nodded silently.
The anger in the air was thick enough to ignite without a spark.
"Gather the Eight First Elites."
Kael turned, his eyes no longer burning with rage alone, but carrying an old vow.
"We move tonight. Shadow's Edge is our destination. We find Armea. And if needed… we bring war to Meirah first."
In the Shadow's Edge Forest…
Armea Ril'Sara sprinted down the root-covered slope, slick with wet stones.
Her breaths came short, her chest tight, but her steps remained steady despite the bloodied wounds not yet bleeding.
The back of her shirt was torn—marks of a brutal struggle unevenly fought.
Revail's words still echoed in her mind.
Sweet words masking poison.
False promises meant to shake her faith—offering safety in exchange for betrayal.
But Armea was no woman to break so easily.
She was close to the Kaziana border when a shadow slipped from the mist-shrouded trees.
A man stood still—tall, cloaked in Kaziana's scout robes.
But that face…
"Radrik?" Her voice caught between shock and pain.
"What are you doing here?"
The man said nothing.
Only his eyes answered—a gaze once shielding Kael from a thousand attacks, now weighing Armea like a burden meant to be erased.
"I thought you were gone," Armea whispered.
"Kael… he believes you've fallen."
Radrik sighed.
"He discarded me, Armea. He chose you… and threw me away."
Without another word, Radrik raised his bow.
An arrow flew.
Target: Left arm.
The shaft pierced flesh—too shallow to kill, but enough to cripple.
Armea hit the ground, knees kissing mud.
But her body knew battle better than rest.
In a sharp moment of pain and fury, she grabbed a dagger from her ankle—and stabbed Radrik's shoulder with deadly precision.
His scream shattered the silence.
Slowly, she rose, knees shaking—not from fear, but from rage… and from being betrayed by someone who once fought beside Kael.
"If I fall today," she said, eyes gleaming in the sunset,
"Let the world know I didn't fall to the enemy. But to a traitor."
Radrik tried to strike, but Armea was faster.
A heavy punch to his jaw sent him crashing down—alive, but humiliated enough to be left breathing.
Without looking back, Armea pressed forward.
Alone.
Bloodied.
But unbroken.
At the Kaziana Border…
Night wrapped the land in bitter irony.
Calm… but full of threat.
Kael and his elite force arrived sooner than expected.
A trail of blood whispered terror across the earth.
Teyron knelt, touching the footprint.
"Small. But familiar."
Kael knelt beside him.
His hand brushed the still-warm soil.
His heart seemed to know the path before his eyes caught it.
No signal was needed.
He dashed into the forest.
His footsteps beat a rhythm of unyielding vengeance.
Breath quick, heart faster.
And finally, beneath an ancient tree with roots clutching earth like dragon claws…
He found her.
"Armea!" Kael's voice cracked—no longer a commander, but a man afraid to lose.
He lifted her, holding her tightly.
Earth, blood, and wounds clung to their clothes—but Kael didn't care.
He pressed his ear to her chest.
The beat was still there.
"She's alive…" Teyron stood nearby, voice heavy with relief.
Kael looked up at the sky.
Still red.
Still bleeding.
"Revail will learn what it means to touch what's mine."
In that embrace, Armea stirred slightly.
Her eyes half-opened.
But she heard the voice.
The voice that never changed.
Kael brushed her damp, tangled hair.
"I'm here. You're safe. No one will take you again. Not this time."
Tears ran silently down Armea's cheeks.
Not from weakness.
But because at last, she knew—she was not alone.
And in the quiet that wrapped them, a soft whisper echoed from Armea's half-weak chest:
"I believe."
________________________________________
She didn't fall.
Not to the blade.
Not to the lies.
And never to the traitor.
Because some scars become armor.
And some hearts, no matter how wounded—
Still choose to believe.
To be continued…