Rain slicked the forest floor, turning roots and fallen leaves into treacherous ground. Elira's breath came fast as she stumbled after Kaelen, his hand still locked with hers. Behind them, the hoofbeats grew louder, thunder rolling through the trees.
Her heart pounded in rhythm with the storm. She could almost see the cloaked riders in her mind—swords raised, eyes glinting with hunger for blood.
Kaelen pulled her sharply to the right, plunging off the narrow road into the thicker undergrowth. Branches whipped against their cloaks, rain dripping down their faces.
"They're too close," Elira whispered, her voice raw with panic.
"I know," Kaelen said, his tone steady though his jaw was tight. He kept scanning the trees, calculating. "But the forest is thick. Horses can't follow easily. We use the ground to our advantage."
In another part of the forest…
Ravik, captain of the mercenaries, urged his black stallion forward, rain plastering his long hair to his scarred face. His men fanned out behind him, four riders in dark cloaks, trained to move like wolves on the hunt.
"The prince thinks himself clever," Ravik growled, scanning the mud for prints. "But a wounded animal leaves a trail no matter how it runs."
One of the younger riders leaned closer, his voice hesitant. "Captain, why does the client pay so much for a runaway prince? If Kaelen were worth this price, wouldn't the crown guard protect him?"
Ravik shot him a cold look. "Don't ask questions that might get you killed. We hunt, we take him alive, we get paid. That's all that matters."
He spurred his horse onward, eyes narrowing as he caught sight of faint footprints in the mud. A woman's prints, lighter, smaller.
"So," he muttered, a grim smile twisting his lips. "The prince has company."
On the farmstead near the road…
A boy named Corin crouched beneath the eaves of his family's cottage, watching with wide eyes as riders thundered past. His little sister clung to his arm, whispering, "Who are they? Why do they ride so fast?"
Corin swallowed hard. He had never seen men like these before—faces hard as iron, cloaks heavy with rain. He thought of his father working in the fields, unaware of the storm about to break.
"Stay inside," he whispered, pushing his sister back toward the doorway. He watched the road a little longer, heart hammering, then ducked inside to warn his mother.
Back in the forest…
Elira's lungs burned as she ran, her satchel bouncing painfully against her side. Roots threatened to trip her at every step, but Kaelen's grip steadied her.
They burst into a clearing where the stream forked, tumbling over mossy rocks. Kaelen stopped abruptly, scanning both directions.
"They'll see our prints in the mud," Elira said, chest heaving.
"Then we leave none." Without hesitation, Kaelen pulled her into the water. The icy current bit at her ankles, but she understood. The stream would swallow their trail.
They waded upstream, water splashing against their boots. Elira stumbled on the slippery rocks, but Kaelen caught her each time, his strength unwavering despite his own hidden injury.
Her gaze flicked to his face—raindrops tracing his jaw, his eyes sharp with focus. Even in fear, even in flight, he was unshaken. She felt a spark of safety, fragile but real, flare in her chest.
Pursuers' POV again…
Ravik reined in at the clearing, dismounting to inspect the mud. The tracks ended abruptly by the stream.
He crouched, running his hand over the prints. "Clever. They think the water hides them."
His second-in-command frowned. "Perhaps they drowned."
Ravik snorted. "No. The prince is stubborn. He lives. And where there is current, there is path." He gestured sharply. "Three upriver, two down. We'll flush him out like deer from cover."
Farther ahead, the villagers' fate intertwines…
The same farmstead where Corin lived stood not far from the stream. As the riders split, one group passed near the fields. Corin's father, drenched from rain, straightened from his plow, blinking as the armed men galloped past.
"What business brings you here?" he called, voice edged with suspicion.
The leader barely spared him a glance. "None of yours. Stay out of our path."
Corin's father frowned, unease crawling through him. He glanced back toward the cottage where his wife and children watched, fear etched in their faces. Something dark was afoot, something that would sweep across even their quiet farm if it wasn't stopped.
Elira + Kaelen again…
They emerged from the stream, dripping and cold, pressing deeper into the trees. Kaelen stopped suddenly, crouching low.
"Elira. Quiet."
Through the rain and leaves, they both heard it—hoofbeats on the opposite bank, the clink of weapons, the harsh call of a rider urging his men forward.
Elira's throat tightened. "They're everywhere."
Kaelen's hand brushed hers, steadying her trembling fingers. "Then we keep moving. And if cornered—" He glanced at her, voice dropping low. "You cannot fear your fire. It may be the only weapon we have."
Her breath caught, the weight of his words pressing against the storm already inside her. She thought of the village chapel sermons, of the warnings whispered in her youth. Yet she also thought of the mercenaries' blades, and of the man beside her who trusted her strength.
A rustle snapped her from thought. From the shadows, a figure lunged—a mercenary, sword raised, rain streaking his face.
Elira screamed, instinct flaring. Heat burst from her palms, fire blossoming in the downpour. The flame struck the man's blade, hissing and spitting sparks, forcing him back with a cry of pain.
Kaelen was already moving, dagger flashing. He struck low, disarming the man, sending him sprawling into the mud.
"Run!" Kaelen shouted, grabbing Elira's hand again.
They plunged deeper into the forest, the storm swallowing their steps.
The mercenaries regroup…
The fallen rider staggered to his feet, clutching his scorched arm. His eyes were wide with shock. "She wields flame—unbound flame!"
Ravik's expression darkened, lips curling into a cruel smile. "So that's the secret. No wonder the prince keeps her close. The client will pay double for such a prize."
He lifted his hand, signaling his men. "Spread out. Don't kill the girl. The prince we take breathing, but she—she is worth more than gold."
Closing beat…
Night began to fall as Elira and Kaelen stumbled into another clearing, breath ragged, clothes torn, mud streaking their faces. The fire still tingled beneath Elira's skin, alive and restless.
Kaelen drew her close beneath the cover of a fallen oak. His voice was firm, though his chest heaved with exertion. "They will not stop. Not for gold, not for blood. From here on, we must outthink them. Every step, every shadow counts."
Elira met his gaze, fear and determination warring in her heart. "Then teach me. If my fire can save us, I cannot run from it anymore."
The rain drummed on the leaves overhead, the storm unrelenting. Somewhere in the darkness, Ravik and his men moved closer, their hunger sharpened by what they had seen.
The hunt had only just begun.
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