Morning dawned clear and peaceful—well, except for the fact that Zan, the calmest of the warriors, was chasing Varek around a tree with a charred loaf of bread in hand.
Zan: "You burned it again!"
Varek (grinning): "I like my bread crunchy. It's called 'extra flavor.'"
Porcupine (perched smugly on a rock): "If 'flavor' means tasting like regret and disappointment, then yes."
Elara chuckled, her hands busy preparing real food over the fire. Her herbs simmered in a small pot, filling the air with warmth and spice. She glanced at the warriors' faces—grumpy, half-awake, and covered in minor scratches from the monster fight the night before. But alive.
They trusted her. For now.
As she handed out bowls of steaming stew, the warriors lined up like schoolboys.
Kael (the flirty one): "For you, my lady, I shall accept even poison with a smile."
Elara (deadpan): "Good. I stirred in a special herb called 'shut-up.'"
Kael choked on his first spoonful while the others burst into laughter. Even Kane smirked.
The moment was peaceful. Too peaceful.
---
Later that afternoon, as they trekked through the rocky path toward the ancient ruins of Varethos, the sealed resting place of one of the warriors' sacred weapons, Elara suddenly paused.
She felt… watched.
Porcupine: "Either we're being followed, or I've developed a sixth sense for awkward tension. Could be both."
Suddenly—whistle. Arrow.
Elara was yanked back by Dax, just as a shadowed figure launched from the trees. Blades clanged.
A cloaked man stood tall and cocky, two curved swords in hand, a mask over half his face.
Stranger: "I was promised a challenge. But I see children playing tag."
Kane stepped forward, sword in hand, eyes cold.
Kane: "Who sent you?"
Stranger: "Let's just say… someone who prefers the real Light God stays in ice."
Elara's eyes narrowed. The fake god again. Still hunting them.
Kane charged. The clash was brutal—raw speed versus controlled fury. But something was off.
Kael (watching): "He's not trying to kill. He's… testing us."
Elara, suddenly glowing faintly again, whispered something. The ground froze under the attacker's feet, and Kane struck with the flat of his blade, knocking him down.
Zan yanked off the man's mask.
He looked… familiar.
Varek: "Wait—is that… Kairo?!"
Shock rippled through the group. Kairo was one of the original Seven Warriors—lost in battle 7,000 years ago.
Kairo (groaning): "Ugh. Still dramatic, Varek. And yes, it's me. Long story."
He stood, brushing himself off, eyes falling on Elara.
Kairo: "So. You're the Ice Witch."
Everyone stiffened.
Kael (narrowing his eyes): "What did you call her?"
Kairo (grinning): "Relax. I'm not here to hurt her. She's the reason I woke up early."
---
Elara's head spun. How much did Kairo know? What part of her power had called him?
As the group settled down to rest again, tension thickened. One by one, the warriors were now realizing Elara wasn't just the herbalist or healer. She was central to everything.
And perhaps… someone worth fighting for.
Even if that meant fighting each other.
---
End of Chapter 9
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