Page 102 of Eluvonia
The voice, sharp and clear, cuts through my thoughts. I turn, my hand instinctively brushing the hilt of my blade. Byrn approaches, his expression as grim as the shadows clinging to the forest floor. His dark gold hair is matted with sweat, his tunic streaked with dirt and soot, but his posture is steady—resolute.
“Report,” I say curtly.
Byrn halts in front of me, his breath steady despite the urgency of his arrival. “All the Fae have been evacuated fromBrimvarr’s forest. We’ve started the trek to Thaldrim and should reach the cave system within a week.”
I nod, though my gaze flicks past him to the dense trees beyond. The Dragons’ flames have yet to reach this area, but the acrid stench of smoke lingers, a constant reminder of the peril closing in. “These Dragons have become reckless,” I mutter, more to myself than to Byrn. “Why destroy the realm you want to claim?”
Byrn shrugs, his expression unreadable. “I’m not sure, sir. Maybe Commander Varek finally snapped after his son left him.”
A snort escapes me before I can stop it, the sound sharp and humorless. “If that report was correct,” I say, shaking my head. “I can’t see a reason why the Commander of Shadows and the Golden Prince would abandon Iryndel.”
Byrn shrugs again, his movements stiff, the weight of our predicament evident in his every gesture. His gaze drifts momentarily, scanning the forest as though the answer might be found in the rustling leaves.
“So, what’s the plan, sir?” he asks after a moment, his voice low but steady.
I glance at him from the corner of my eye, studying his face. Byrn has been steadfast, one of the few I can rely on when chaos presses in from all sides. Still, the burden of command is mine alone. I straighten, the weight of responsibility settling across my shoulders like a familiar cloak.
“We need to distract the Dragons long enough to ensure the others can evacuate safely,” I say, my tone decisive. “But we can’t attack Bronwyth again. They’ll be on high alert after last time.”
Byrn’s brow furrows, and he opens his mouth as though tosuggest something, but I hold up a hand, the beginnings of an idea taking root in my mind.
“There’s a small village just on the border of Eryndralen,” I say, the words falling into place as I speak. “If we attack it, we can draw their attention away from the main evacuation route. The rest of our clan can move through Brimvarr and into Thaldrim unseen.”
Byrn’s mouth tightens, his jaw working as he considers the plan. “A village, sir? Won’t that put innocent lives at risk?”
My fingers curl into fists at my sides, the weight of his words hitting hard despite my resolve. “The Dragons have already made it clear they care nothing for innocent lives,” I say, my voice colder than I intend. “They’ve burned entire forests, left our towns in ashes. If we don’t act, all of our people will be next.”
Byrn exhales sharply but nods, his reluctance evident in the tight set of his shoulders. “Understood, sir.”
I turn away from him, my gaze sweeping over the forest once more. The shadows feel heavier now, pressing in as though they carry the weight of my decisions. I shake off the thought and gesture for Byrn to follow.
“Gather the others,” I say. “We’ll move at dawn.”
Byrn salutes briefly, his hand crossing his chest before he strides away, his figure soon swallowed by the darkness. Alone again, I let out a slow breath, my fingers brushing the bark of a nearby tree. The rough texture grounds me, a small reminder of the world I’m fighting to protect.
The camp is quiet when I return, the faint glow of enchanted lanterns casting soft light over the clearing. The Fae move with a practiced silence, their expressions grim but determined. Children cling to their parents, their wideeyes reflecting fear they’re too young to fully understand. The sight tightens something in my chest.
Byrn approaches again, his movements purposeful. “Everyone’s ready, sir. The scouts report no Dragon activity nearby, but we’re keeping watch just in case.”
I nod. “Good. Make sure the scouts rotate every hour. We can’t afford to be caught off guard.”
Byrn inclines his head, but his gaze lingers on me, his brow furrowed slightly. “And you, sir? Will you rest?”
A faint smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth. “When this is over, Byrn. Not before.”
He huffs softly, a sound somewhere between exasperation and amusement, before turning to relay my orders. I watch him go, his figure blending into the organized chaos of the camp.
As the hours stretch on, I make my rounds, checking on the Fae and offering quiet reassurances where I can. My presence seems to steady them, though the burden of their trust weighs heavy. The children’s laughter is absent, replaced by hushed whispers and the occasional muffled sob. Each sound is a reminder of what’s at stake.
When dawn breaks, the camp stirs with renewed purpose. The Fae move quickly, their preparations efficient despite the tension hanging in the air. I gather a small group of fighters, handpicking those who have proven themselves in the face of Dragon fire.
“Remember,” I say, my voice low but firm as I address the group, “our goal is to distract, not to engage. We strike quickly and retreat before they can retaliate. Understood?”
A chorus of nods meets my words, their determination evident despite the fear lurking in their eyes. I draw my blade,the familiar weight a comfort as I lift it in a silent salute. The others follow suit, their movements sharp and synchronized.
As we set out, the forest closes around us, the shadows deepening with each step. The path to Eryndralen is treacherous, but we navigate it with the ease of those who have lived among the trees all their lives. Byrn stays close, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger.
When the village comes into view, a hushed silence falls over our group. The small cluster of buildings is quiet, smoke rising lazily from a few chimneys. I signal for the others to fan out, my hand raised to halt them before we move closer.
