Page 106 of A Kingdom so Crimson

He nodded, and we made our way to an alcove by the stream, shielded from the biting wind by the towering mountainside. He sank to the ground, his breathing gradually slowing into a steady rhythm.

I lingered momentarily, watching him drift into slumber, pondering the cruel irony of this supposed tournament meant to foster peace among the Regions. With a bitter scoff, I turned to scour the murky landscape for any semblance of sustenance, venturing cautiously while keeping a watchful eye on Astor. Despite my efforts, I found nothing. Not a single crumb of food in sight. Anger churned within me, a tempest raging amidst the hollow pit of hunger gnawing at my stomach.

Returning to Astor, I settled beside him, endeavoring to quell the rising heat coursing through my veins. A heavy weariness draped over me like a suffocating haze. Leaning my head against the mountain wall, I found little relief in the stagnant fog that barely stirred against the fierce wind whistling through the small alcove, sending a haunting echo wheezing past.

Struggling to keep my eyes open, I sat in silence, listening to the steady rhythm of Astor's breathing and the persistent grumbling of my empty stomach.

I was abruptly pulled from the hazy embrace of exhaustion by Astor's urgent shaking.

"Wake up!" he hissed, his eyes wide with fear, jolting my heart awake with a surge of adrenaline. I leaped to my feet in an instant, sensing a threat. He quickly covered my mouth with his hand and pointed toward the stream.

A large grey wolf stood at the water's edge, its massive form casting a menacing shadow, its fur thick and matted. My heart raced as I scanned the area frantically, searching for any sign of more wolves. Wolves, I knew, usually ran in packs, and the presence of one often meant the presence of others.

I strained my ears for any signifying rustle or snap of twigs, but any sounds were engulfed in the howling wind, which seemed to swallow all other sounds. The tension in the air was tangible, every instinct urging me to remain perfectly still and silent but flee and escape at the same time.

The fog slowly dissipated, making our situation more precarious.

Gulping down the fear and anger that threatened to overwhelm me, I clutched the wooden dagger tightly, my knuckles white with tension. Positioning myself protectively in front of Astor, I observed the wolf as it drank from the stream. Quickly analyzing our escape route, I leaned close to his ear and whispered a plan.

We maneuvered cautiously along the mountainside, hugging the terrain as much as possible until we reached a point where the slope jutted out at an odd angle, leaving us dangerously exposed to the wolf's back.

"When I tell you to run, you run as fast as you can," I commanded, gesturing toward his own makeshift weapons, which looked like they would shatter with a single swing. We need to get back on the path," I whispered, nodding in the direction we had come from. Astor nodded in agreement, his shallow breaths betraying his anxiety, and began to creep back step by careful step until the wolf was no longer within sight behind the jut of the mountain.

"Run," I urged, pushing him forward. With adrenaline coursing through our veins, we sprinted as fast as our legs could carry us, weaving through the dense forest and leaping over scattered boulders and rocks. Astor proved to be faster than I anticipated, leaping over each boulder as if they were mere pebbles. We continued to run, the watery light filtering through the clouds above, threatening to expose our position. A solitaryhowl pierced the air, followed by several others, seeming to encircle us from all directions.

I grabbed his arm, propelling him forward. "Keep going! We're almost back to the path," I panted, my eyes fixed on the incline ahead. The sight of the sloping road gave me a burst of hope. We ran in tandem, our breaths ragged and visible in the cold air. Each inhale sliced through my throat, sending goosebumps cascading down my neck as a pounding of feet and guttural snarls echoed through the air behind us.

We slowed as we reached the hill's slope, the incline making each step more arduous in the loose rocks. I glanced back again, noting that nothing seemed to be following us. I sent a silent prayer of gratitude to the heavens, hoping we would safely reach the bottom of the road.

"Stay down," I panted, licking my cracked lips. "Let me make sure we are clear."

Astor remained pressed against the rocky hillside, his black hair contrasting with the light gray stone. I shifted my weight, digging my fingers and boots into the rocks, sending some tumbling down the hill. Another howl pierced the air, and I pushed down the rising fear.

Peeking over the ridge, I listened intently for anything unusual amid the silent wind, praying that neither another Breva, a wolf, nor the Spellcasters were nearby since I was in their territory.

I scanned the area to the right and left, seeing andsensingnothing except the faint howl of several wolves scattered behind us. Sliding back down to Astor, I dug into the loose gravel, my movements careful but swift.

His dark eyes were filled with fear. "The sooner we get to the bottom of that path, the quicker we can get out of here," I said, hoping to give him the courage to keep fighting. I nodded upward. "Let's go. Hopefully, we can find some food at its end."

Astor followed me up and over the ridge, staying low as we scanned the vast landscape for any signs of danger. Our hearts pounded, and we tried to slow our breathing against the wind that wove around us, chilling us to the bone. The howls echoed closer, urging us to move quickly.

We descended the path in a rush, our steps uneven on the loose gravel. Each stumble and slip sent small rocks tumbling down the slope, the noise unnervingly loud in the otherwise quiet surroundings. Our stomachs grumbled loudly, a painful reminder of our hunger and a sound that could easily betray us to any predators nearby.

This part of the path was steep and treacherous; the jagged rocks and rough terrain demanded our full attention. The cold wind bit through our tattered suits, sapping our energy and adding to our discomfort.

As we moved, I glanced back at Astor. His young face was set with determination, though fear still lingered in his eyes. He mirrored my movements, his footsteps as cautious as mine, but his determination strengthened me.

The howls behind us grew fainter, but we didn't slow down. We couldn't afford to. The landscape stretched out before us, a mix of dead trees and rocky outcroppings, offering little shelter or promise of food. Yet, we had no choice but to keep moving forward, hoping each step brought us closer to getting out of here.

33

"Why did you enter?" I asked as we trudged down the rocky hill, navigating the switchbacks. The sun was setting, casting a blue tint across the murky sky. We might not have felt so frozen if it weren't for the relentless wind.

"For my family…we need the money," Astor replied somberly, his eyes fixed on the swirling grey clouds above. "My father is sick."

"Oh," I murmured, feeling a pang of sympathy.

"It's life, right?" he said, turning to look at me with sadness. "I'm the eldest of three sisters, so I had to do what any provider would. My mother was furious when she found out I was accepted," he stopped, slightly smiling. "I wish I could harbor her face on dreary days," he said with a small laugh. I glanced at him with a smile, feeling it so very odd to have a family that he loved and loved him in return. A family that was worried for him.

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