"You've got ten minutes."
Tala blinked.
"Ten...?"
"To choose," he said simply. "You're one of us. Whether you like it or not."
Another Executioner stepped forward — a girl with silver-threaded sleeves and a voice like cold water.
"You kill your ten… or we kill all of them."
"We're moving soon," the tall man added. "This is your chance to pick your ten."
Tala didn't answer. Couldn't. Her voice had locked somewhere deep in her throat.
Then, without another word, they retreated — back into the tree line like shadows peeling off the world. But they didn't leave. She could feel them watching. Waiting. A ring of wolves in human skin.
And the fire kept burning.Crackling. Hissing.Mocking her.
Tala's legs finally moved. Slowly.
She turned, stared down at the girl who had died beside her — the one with the clean red line across her neck and the vacant, glassy eyes.
She'd never even known her name.
The paper still sat at her feet. You are an Executioner.She picked it up with shaking fingers. Turned it over. Nothing on the back. Nothing except the weight of a decision she didn't want to make.
Ten minutes.
She had ten minutes to choose between murder… or a massacre.
Tala folded the note with trembling fingers and slipped it into her sleeve.
Then she stood.
Not quickly. Not loudly.
Just… stood. Quietly. Carefully. Like if she moved too fast, the entire forest would collapse in on her.
The fire crackled behind her, a low hiss as another ember drifted into the night. It floated upward like a dying star before winking out into darkness. Around her, the ruined stone camp still held the warmth of life — a flickering hearth, the rustle of sleep, the soft thud of a turning body. Somewhere to her right, a student murmured in a dream. Someone else snored gently. The scent of burned wood and iron hung in the air.
But beyond that—Stillness.
The wind stirred through the broken trees, carrying a chill that whispered through the cracks in the stone. It didn't howl. It didn't scream. It crept. And it carried something darker beneath it — the stench of cold steel and spilled blood, even if the slaughter hadn't begun yet.
She moved through the camp like a ghost, each step practiced, muted. A hand brushing a stone. A pause beside a collapsed column. She didn't go directly to Corin and Vessa — not yet. The hooded watchers were still there, shadows draped across the treeline. Eyes hidden beneath cowls. Not moving. Not breathing.
Waiting.
She paused beside the water barrel. Dipped her fingers in. Pretended to drink. The liquid clung cold against her skin.
Only then did she glance sideways, catching Corin's eye in the firelight.
He noticed her. Sharpening his blade, back leaned casually against a broken archway. But his posture stiffened. His hand slowed on the whetstone.
Tala drifted closer, crouching beside him like it was nothing.
"You're late," Corin murmured, his voice low and dry.
She didn't answer right away. The words caught behind her teeth. When they came, they were quiet. Distant.
"There's going to be a slaughter."
The blade in his hands stilled completely.
Vessa stirred beside them, still half-asleep, her twin braids tangled in her cloak.
"What?" she whispered, groggy.
Tala leaned in. Close enough to feel the heat of the fire. Close enough that the shadows behind her felt like knives waiting to press against her back.
"We need to move," she said. "Quietly. No panic. Wake only the lookouts. No one else."
Corin's brows drew together. "Why?"
Tala hesitated — just a second — then let it fall from her lips."They're coming. Killers. Not from our group. Students."
Corin didn't speak. His fingers twitched slightly on the hilt.
Vessa sat up, more alert now.
"How many?"
Tala turned her hand upward, the blue ink of her runes catching the firelight faintly beneath her sleeve.
"Eight," she said."Maybe more."
The wind returned. This time stronger. It sighed through the trees with the sound of falling ash.
Corin looked over the camp — at the students sprawled in their makeshift bedrolls, some sharing cloaks for warmth, others curled beneath collapsed stone columns. Most of them were no fighters. Apprentices. Survivors. Strangers.
Vessa's hand hovered over her dagger.
"And how do you know that." Corin said quietly.
Tala didn't look at him. Her eyes were on the shadows beyond the firelight.
"Because they told me," she said."Because they gave me a choice. Take ten lives, or everyone dies."Her voice cracked."They don't care who we are. They just want blood."
Corin's expression darkened. His hand tightened on his sword hilt.
He stood abruptly, eyes sweeping the camp.
"Everyone prepare for an a—"
He didn't finish.
The moment the words left his mouth, the Executioners moved.
Like strings snapping from silence, shadows ripped into motion — gliding across the stone like smoke made flesh. The treeline erupted. Screams followed.
A girl to Corin's left dropped before she could even sit up. Her throat bloomed red. Another tried to draw a blade — only for it to shatter in her hands, her head jerking sideways with a sickening crack.
Corin swung his sword.Steel met air — no, not air. A blur. A shadow.Too fast.He turned to strike again—Too late.
A blade pierced the boy beside him.
Then vanished."FUCK!" Corin roared. "STOP HIDING!"
Tala didn't move. Couldn't. Her legs were rooted to the stone, her hands trembling.Tears traced hot lines down her cheeks.
"I told you," she whispered."We needed to leave…"
Chaos.
A firepot spilled, catching someone's cloak. Flames spiraled. Smoke rose.An apprentice screamed for his mother before going silent. Another tried to crawl away, dragging one leg — until a silver dagger pinned his hand to the stone.
A girl with braids and broken glasses reached for the sky, begging for mercy.A blur passed. Her arm fell to the ground before she did.
Blood soaked the stones. The wind howled. The night drowned in death.
And then —Silence.
Only three figures remained.
Tala.Vessa, bleeding from a shallow cut across her cheek.Corin, leaning on his sword, his side soaked in red.
The Executioners stepped forward.
The tall man, still calm. Still smiling."You had your chance," he said to Tala."We can't kill you. But we can kill your friends."
Tala's hands lifted.
She didn't speak — only moved. Her fingers flashed through a rapid series of sigils, blue light spiraling around her arms.
The ground answered.
A web of frost burst outward from her feet, snaking across the camp like a living thing. Ice leapt up the Executioners' legs, binding them, climbing higher. Their motions froze mid-step.
"Let's go!" Tala cried, her voice breaking."Please — run!"
They ran.
Broken stone blurred beneath them. Blood. Ash. Ice.
Behind them, cracking sounds echoed — the Executioners breaking free.
A sharp whistle split the air.
A flash.
A dagger slammed into Vessa's shoulder.
She screamed — but didn't fall.
"STOP! PLEASE — STOP THIS!" Tala shouted, tears blinding her.
Corin stumbled beside her, gasping.
Then he stopped.Turned.
"They can't hurt you," he said to Tala."So you'll live. Promise me you'll take revenge."
Tala's eyes widened."No—"
"Promise me."
She choked on her breath. Nodded.
"I promise…"But her voice broke."Now please… keep running."
Corin smiled, blood staining his teeth."It's alright tala, you tried."
Then he turned. Faced the shadows. Raised his sword one last time.
Vessa slowed down watching corin fight and gave Tala a look.
"Go"
Tala ran.
She heard Vessa scream.
Felt the heat behind her vanish.
Then—Nothing.
No footsteps.
No voices.
Just Tala.
Alone.