Page 115 of The Dark Mage
One by one, the soldiers fell, their screams fading into silence as fiery shadows devouredthem.
When the last body stilled, the camp fell silent, save for the crackling of flames and the distant hum of night creatures.
Ren’wyn let go of the net, and it unraveled into the Void, dissipating into nothingness.
Fael’s power retreated, and he gasped for air, dragging himself to her.He gripped her hips roughly, shaking her as his voice broke.
“Don’t you ever do that again!”he roared.“Don’t you ever do something so reckless and foolhardy!You could have died.Don’t ever shut me out like that again.”
His anger wasn’t anger at all—it was terror.She could see it in his eyes, feel it in the trembling of his hands as they gentled against her.He pulled her down into his arms, his head falling to her shoulder as a harsh sob tore from his chest.
“I had to save them,” Ren’wyn whispered, her voice cracking.“I didn’t know what would wake the soldiers or how this would work.I’m sorry.I ruined everything.I didn’t follow the plan.I’m sorry.”
He pulled her tighter, his desperation and fear alive in the shivers wracking hisbody.
When his breathing steadied, he finally noticed the faint auras of the boys in the cart and stiffened.Standing, he offered Ren’wyn his hand and led her towardthem.
The others entered the camp hesitantly, their expressions frozen in horror as they took in the scene—the ash-covered ground, the smoldering bodies, and the two small figures in thecart.
Fael scooped the empath child from the cage with a tenderness Ren’wyn had never seen, supporting him as though he might break.Miguel approached, his hands outstretched in silent offering.Slowly, Fael passed the boy into Miguel’s arms, his jaw tight.Miguel’s wide eyes flicked to the boy’s broken form as Leta pulled off her cloak, draping it over them with quietcare.
Ren’wyn turned to Fael, and her heart twisted at the sight of him holding the berserker child.He cradled the boy with infinite gentleness, his face etched with anguish.In that moment, Fael appeared to have cracked straight down the middle, his very being split open by the sight of the injured children.
Behind them, Irik retched into the bushes, unable to stomach the smell and sight of the devastation.
“What now?”Leta asked, her voice rough and thick with tears.
Fael immediately took charge.He sent Irik to calm the horses and hitch two carts.Ren’wyn and Leta cleared the carts to make space for the boys.Ren’wyn pulled barrels out of one, piling blankets and sacks of grain into a makeshift bed while keeping an open area where she couldsit.
Behind her, Fael transferred the berserker boy’s weight to one arm, using his free hand to unclasp his cloak and sweep it over the small, frail body.As the tremors of his anger rumbled through the glade, a part of her regretted that the soldiers were already dead—there was nothing left for him to unleash his rage on.
Leta returned with blankets and fresh clothing from the other cart, setting them near Ren’wyn, who tucked them toward the front.She added baskets of apples and mangoes, her hands working mechanically as Fael carefully laid the tiny body onto the makeshift bed.He added two barrels of salt pork before tucking Luremalan bows and arrows at the head of the grain sacks, covering them with extra sets of clothing to disguise their presence.
Anything bearing the imperial crest was discarded without hesitation.As Leta walked past a corpse, she kicked it savagely—only to stumble back in shock when her foot went straight through its collapsedform.
“They’re ash,” she whispered, her wide eyes turning to Ren’wyn.“They’reallash.”
For the first time, Letatrulysaw her.Not just as a gentle, sweet girl with healing hands, but as something darker—someone capable of unleashing death.
Ren’wyn no longer focused on supplies or soldiers.She knelt beside the berserker boy, his breathing shallow and fast, each rasping inhale rattling in his small chest.He was gravely ill.Left to rot in the elements, his leg was festering, the infection creeping dangerously through hisbody.
“Fael,” she called softly, her voice trembling.
He strode over quickly, meeting her at the back of the cart to shield the boy from their conversation.
“I don’t know if I can save him,” she whispered, tremors coursing through her body.“The infection is bad.He won’t keep the leg, but I don’t think he has the strength to survive an amputation.I don’t know how—or where—we’re going to dothis.”
Fael took her hands tightly in his own, lending her strength.
“First, we need to get somewhere safe,” he said with quiet determination.“Then, we’ll figure out how to help these two.For now, just make him as comfortable as youcan.”
Ren’wyn nodded.She couldtry.
She grabbed a waterskin and wet a spare shirt, slowly and gently cleaning the boy’s frail body.She wiped away the layers of dirt, dried blood, and filth from his uninjured skin, her movements as tender as possible.Once clean, she dressed him in oversized, fresh clothes that hung loosely on his small frame.
Meanwhile, the second cart was prepared.Miguel carefully lifted the empath boy and placed him inside.Ren’wyn repeated the process, cleaning and re-dressing him with the same care.Leta volunteered to ride with the empath, while Ren’wyn chose to stay with the berserker.
Irik left to get the other horses, and Fael and Miguel took the reins, steering them all away from the ash-covered camp.A harsh wind swept through the clearing behind them, carrying away the remains of the dead soldiers—their forms dissolving into nothingness.Ren’wyn knew Miguel had left charges in the other carts and the barred iron cage.In about thirty minutes, those would ignite, reducing the site to smoldering ruins.
