The moon hung low, pale and cruel, spilling silver over the jagged cliffs. The wind tore through the rocks, cold and sharp, carrying the scent of earth and danger.
She ran. Every step was agony, every breath a scream in her chest. In her arms, the child clung to her, a fragile weight she would never let go. Her legs burned, her body trembled, but terror could not touch her will.
Behind her, a sword cut through the night. A swing—missed. He cursed, his boots pounding stones as he darted down another path, the crimson blade catching the moonlight. He didn't know. She was right beneath his eyes, pressed against the cliff wall, hidden in shadows, silent as a shadow herself.
When his steps faded, she moved again, sliding along the jagged rocks, toward another path. The cliff's edge loomed ahead—black, empty, unforgiving. She turned to escape—
—and froze.
He was there.
The man stepped out of the darkness, towering, bloodied, unstoppable. His eyes burned red, face a mask of rage. The tip of his sword dragged across the stone, sparks spitting, each step heavy, deliberate.
She hugged the child tighter. Her voice trembled, but it cut like steel.
"Stay away from my child."
He didn't slow. Step by step, he drove her back, until the edge yawned beneath her heels.
Desperation sparked a fire. She pulled a knife from her sleeve and slashed at his wrist. The sword clattered to the stones.
She lunged past him—
—but his other hand shot out. Iron fingers gripped her throat, lifting her off the ground. The abyss opened below. One arm held the child, the other the trembling knife.
He snatched the blade. His blood-soaked face twisted in fury. Eyes red, teeth bared, he raised his sword toward the child.
"No!" Her scream shredded the night.
The blade fell—
—and shattered.
The man froze.
She laughed. Hoarse, ragged, a sound of fire and madness. The wind whipped her hair across her face, turning her fear into something sharp, dangerous, alive.
The cloth around the bundle slipped. Not a child. A wooden log tumbled free.
The man roared, rage bursting like thunder.
Her voice cut through him, low and unyielding.
"The only way to keep my child safe— you must die with me."
With every ounce of strength, she pulled. They tumbled over the cliff together, swallowed by darkness.
Silence fell. The cliffs waited.
And far below, faint, fragile, a child's cry drifted on the wind.