The early morning air was thick with tension, carrying the weight of unspoken fears and unvoiced hopes. Arianne stood on the balcony of her chambers, gazing at the horizon where the first streaks of dawn painted the sky in hues of crimson and gold. The castle was waking up, soldiers moving in hurried strides, preparing for what was to come.
A soft knock at her door broke her reverie. "Enter," she called, her voice steadier than she felt.
Rian stepped inside, his expression unreadable. His armor was polished but bore the marks of wear—scratches, dents, memories of battles past. His sword hung at his hip, ready to be drawn at a moment's notice.
"You haven't slept," he observed.
Arianne turned to face him. "Neither have you."
He inclined his head slightly. "There's too much at stake to rest."
She sighed, rubbing her temples. "The scouts haven't returned yet. We need to know what lies ahead before we commit our forces. If we act blindly, we might walk into a trap."
Rian stepped closer, his gaze searching hers. "We won't. I won't let that happen."
Arianne held his stare. There was something about Rian—something unwavering, something she wanted to believe in. He had always been the strongest among them, not just in battle but in conviction. And yet, she saw the worry that lingered behind his confidence.
A knock on the door interrupted the moment. Aldric entered, his expression urgent. "The scouts have returned. We must convene in the war chamber."
The war chamber was dimly lit, the candles flickering against the stone walls. The scouts stood before them, their cloaks covered in dust, their faces grim.
"The enemy is moving faster than we expected," one scout reported. "They've established a camp near the eastern border, less than two days' march from here."
Arianne's fingers tightened on the table's edge. "How many?"
"At least five thousand soldiers, heavily armed. They are gathering supplies, possibly preparing for a prolonged siege."
Aldric exhaled sharply. "They're trying to wear us down before attacking outright."
Rian crossed his arms, his jaw clenched. "Then we must strike first."
Arianne looked at him sharply. "We don't have enough men for an open battle."
"We don't need an open battle," Rian countered. "We need precision. A night raid could cripple their supplies and weaken their forces before they even reach us."
Aldric nodded. "It's risky, but it might be our best chance."
Arianne studied the map before her. She knew Rian was right, but every decision she made carried consequences. Lives hung in the balance.
After a long pause, she lifted her gaze. "We move at nightfall."
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the castle grounds. The chosen soldiers gathered, clad in dark armor, their faces set with determination.
Arianne adjusted the straps of her leather armor, feeling the weight of her choices settle upon her shoulders. Rian stood beside her, checking his weapons with methodical precision.
"You don't have to come," he said quietly.
She glanced at him, a small smirk playing on her lips. "Yes, I do."
He met her gaze, and for a fleeting moment, the world around them faded. Then he nodded. "Then stay close to me."
With that, they mounted their horses and rode into the night, the darkness swallowing them whole.
The forest surrounding the enemy camp was thick with shadows, the scent of damp earth heavy in the air. Arianne's heart pounded in her chest as she crouched behind a fallen log, her breath slow and measured. Around her, the other soldiers moved with careful precision, their presence blending seamlessly with the night.
Rian was a few feet ahead, his sharp eyes scanning the camp below. He turned slightly, motioning for her to come closer. She crept forward, her pulse quickening at the nearness of the enemy.
"We take out the sentries first," he whispered. "Then we move for the supply wagons."
Arianne nodded, gripping the hilt of her dagger. The plan was simple but dangerous. If even one guard raised the alarm, their advantage would be lost.
A soft whistle signaled the attack. Arrows flew through the air, finding their marks with deadly precision. The sentries crumpled silently, their bodies hitting the ground with muffled thuds.
Rian moved like a shadow, his blade swift and merciless. Arianne followed, her movements steady. They reached the supply wagons, their torches at the ready.
With a flick of her wrist, Arianne set the first cart ablaze. Fire licked at the wooden crates, consuming them in an instant. Around her, the others did the same, flames spreading like a whispered secret in the wind.
Then, a shout rang through the camp.
They had been seen.
"Move!" Rian commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos.
Arianne sprinted toward the trees, her heart hammering as enemy soldiers poured from their tents. She barely had time to draw her sword before the first attacker was upon her.
Steel clashed, the sound ringing in her ears. She parried the blow, twisting away just in time to avoid a second strike. Rian was at her side in an instant, his blade cutting through the enemy with deadly efficiency.
"We have to retreat!" Aldric's voice carried over the fray.
Arianne glanced at the burning wagons. The mission had been a success, but they couldn't afford to linger. She nodded sharply, signaling for their forces to fall back.
As they fled into the forest, the distant glow of fire illuminating the night, she realized something.
This was only the beginning.