They burst from the tunnel like hunted animals, choking on the cold rush of night air.
Eliakim hit the ground first, rolling onto damp moss. Above them, the moon spilled silver light through jagged cliffs, painting the ravine in ghostly shadows. The scent of pine and wet stone was sharp after the suffocating earth.
Skyling's wings snapped open in relief, but the null-binder cuffs still clung to her like a curse, dulling her presence. She chirped low, scanning the treetops — then froze.
Eliakim felt it too. Movement.
From both sides of the ravine, torches bobbed between trees. Dark Elf voices carried on the wind, clipped and purposeful. They weren't just searching — they were sweeping the area in an organized pattern.
Gideon crouched beside him, gripping the twin axes Eliakim had hidden in the Bracelet of Kharuun until now. "How in the hell did they know to be here?"
Caleb tightened his grip on the bow, his voice bitter. "Same way they knew about the prison tunnel. Someone fed them."
Ezra's gaze slid toward the cliffs, the silver reflection in his eyes cold. "And our mysterious captain just happens to vanish before we get here?"
Eliakim didn't answer. His mind worked like clockwork gears — Vaeryn had played the savior in the tunnel, but the timing was too precise. Too perfect.
Was he shielding them… or guiding them straight into another trap?
Skyling gave a low warning cry. More torches flickered at the ravine's far exit.
"North wall's sealed," Gideon muttered.
"Then we go up," Eliakim said, already scanning the cliff face. The rock was slick but jagged enough to climb.
Caleb's eyes narrowed. "They'll spot us halfway."
"Not if they're busy somewhere else," Eliakim replied, his tone hinting at a plan forming on the fly. "Ezra — give me a flare spell, low burn. Not enough to light the ravine, just enough to catch a few eyes."
Ezra's lips curled. "Distraction duty, then?"
Eliakim smirked faintly. "You're prettier in torchlight anyway."
The group moved — fast, quiet, deliberate. Ezra slipped off toward the western tree line, his hands already weaving faint light into a ghostly ember. Caleb lingered for half a second, looking at Eliakim.
"If Vaeryn is playing both sides," Caleb muttered, "we'd better figure out which side he's saving us for… before we find ourselves owing him."
Eliakim didn't reply. But in the moonlight, his eyes were locked on the patrol routes, memorizing every shadow, every gap.
This wasn't just an escape anymore.It was a race against a man who might be both their rescuer and their hunter.