The Attack
The door burst open before I could even wake, a rush of cold air sweeping in, carrying whispers I wasn't meant to hear.
"They have come for us."
My chest tightened, my head heavy and foggy from last night's wine. The world swayed, slow and unreal, as if I were moving through water. Every sound felt distant, yet my heartbeat thundered in my ears, each pulse a drum of rising dread.
"Dana!" Lysara's voice cut through the haze, urgent and sharp. "Dana, the Forsaken… they're here!"
Panic coiled around my chest like a living thing. Cold air clawed at my skin, dragging me fully awake. My limbs trembled, my mind scrambling to catch up.
"What's happening?" I gasped, voice trembling. Lysara's hands gripped my arms, steadying me, yet they shook too, betraying the weight of her words.
"The Forsaken… they're attacking the Temple," she said, breath ragged, each word slicing through me.
The blood pounded in my ears. My stomach churned, a tight knot of terror and adrenaline. Fear lingered in my chest, heavy and unwelcome, but it sharpened me.
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, each movement slow and deliberate. The room tilted slightly, my head still heavy, but urgency forced me upright. I pulled a kirtle over the hose I wore, fastening it quickly, my fingers clumsy with haste. My hand found the hilt of my sword instinctively, the cold steel grounding me. The faint scent of smoke drifted in, carried on the biting air. Distant shouts and the clatter of boots echoed through the halls, hammering in time with my racing heart.
"No," I muttered, more to myself than Lysara, anger and fear twisting together. "They won't take us. Not here."
I rose fully and drew my sword in one fluid motion. The metal felt familiar, steady in my grip, the only anchor in the chaos swelling around me.
Lysara's hand lingered briefly on my shoulder. "We have to move quickly," she whispered, voice tight. "The Bound are gathering, but… they're coming faster than we expected."
I swallowed hard, throat tight, pulse thrumming in my ears. Every instinct screamed: run, fight, survive.
I stepped out of my room, Lysara close behind me, trembling. The corridor was chaos itself — Novitiates running, their faces pale, many clearly seeing the Forsaken for the first time. Shouts and screams echoed from outside, reverberating off the stone walls. My pulse slammed against my ribs, fear curling like fire in my chest. I quickened my pace.
When we burst into the open air, the courtyard was a nightmare made flesh. One of the Forsaken lunged at me with inhuman speed. My sword moved on instinct. I swung, and it cut through him cleanly. His blood sprayed, hot and sticky, smelling of iron, painting the ground and my boots.
The market beyond was chaos incarnate. The Forsaken tore through stalls, screaming, slaughtering anyone in their path. Flames licked at wooden carts. People ran trembling, their terror filling the air. The Bound were already fighting, but there were too many. And this was only part of it — they had brought gifted children. Children from Earth, twisted into soldiers of destruction.
My heart froze when I saw her.
Casi.
She stood among them, her eyes dark and sharp, her power pulsing in waves I could feel from here. She had killed so many, and the Forsaken's numbers seemed endless. Every scream, every flash of power, every corpse littering the cobblestones made my stomach twist in knots.
Her gaze locked on me, and my chest ached. She moved with terrifying grace, power coursing like fire around her. I froze. I couldn't bring myself to strike her. I still… cared. Even now, seeing her like this, I felt the jagged pain of losing her to this darkness.
She unleashed a wave of blinding energy toward me, a strike meant to obliterate. Heat scorched my face, wind knocked me back, and the light made my skin sting. My stomach dropped. My hands shook.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Giselle.
She moved faster than thought, colliding with the wave of power, deflecting it with a strike of her own. Casi flew backward, slammed into a stone wall with a sickening crack. Dust and small stones sprayed into the air.
She tried to rise, her lips twisted in fury, but Giselle's hands reached out like iron chains. Her power wrapped around Casi, pressing, constricting. I watched in horror as Giselle's eyes narrowed, her face tight with focus. I couldn't move. My heart throbbed in my ears.
A sickening snap echoed.
Casi's body went limp, crashing to the ground. My scream tore through me before I could stop it. Pain and disbelief clawed at my chest. The market, the screaming, the chaos around me, it all fell away except the horror of what I had just witnessed.
I felt numb, but my hands stayed tight on my sword. Fear ruled every breath, every heartbeat, but the world demanded me to act. The Forsaken were still out there. The brainwashed children were still attacking. And in the midst of it all, Casi's dark eyes haunted me, even in death.
I stayed on the ground, trembling, my breath shallow, my heart still trying to catch up. Casi was gone. Just like that. A part of me had hoped, even in the chaos, that there might be a sliver of light, that I could save her from the darkness. But she died with it. The weight of that crushed me.
Tears blurred my vision, falling endlessly, as though they could wash away the nightmare, but they didn't. They never did.
Suddenly, a hand gripped mine, yanking me to my feet.
"Come on, Dana, we have to go now," Lysara's voice broke through the fog of my mind, strained and urgent as she helped me up.
I didn't know if I could move. My legs felt like stone, and my heart — my heart was shredded.
"Dana, please," Lysara pleaded again, panic rising in her voice. "You have to move, now. You have to be protected."
I barely heard her, my mind lost in the abyss of grief and self-loathing. Was it my fault? Did I cause this?
As we walked, I couldn't shake the sight of the dead. The bodies scattered like broken dolls in the streets. People I knew. People who had smiled at me. Friends, neighbours. They were gone, and there was no one to say their names now. I recognized some of them as we passed, and the pain in my chest twisted like a knife.
Lysara's hand gripped my arm as we moved, her voice low and strained. "I'm taking you to a secure place while the Bound handle the Forsaken."
I nodded, but it felt like I was moving in a dream.
"Where's Doya?" My voice came out thin, distant, like I was someone else asking.
"Front gate," Lysara replied, her words tight. "He's holding off the attackers. Fighting."
My heart stopped. I couldn't breathe for a moment, a cold lump forming in my throat.
"And Kumbuye?" I asked again, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.
"I don't know. He's probably fighting too," she said, but there was something in her voice, something that made me feel cold all over.
The world spun.
"They... they need my help," I said, the words felt empty and desperate. "I can't just hide while they fight. I have to help. I can't lose anyone else."
The panic began to rise in me, clawing at my insides. I didn't want to be the one who stood by and watched the people I cared about fall. Not again.
But Lysara didn't let me go, her grip on my arm firm and unyielding. "We're not safe out there. The Forsaken are everywhere. The Bound are dealing with them." Her voice softened for a moment. "You're not going to help anyone by throwing yourself into the fire. You need to be alive for them. For yourself. For this world."
The words hit me like a slap. I didn't want to hear it, but I couldn't ignore the truth. My mind whirled — Doya, Kumbuye, the Forsaken, and the shattered faces of those I loved. I had to make a choice.
I closed my eyes, taking a slow breath, the world still shaking beneath me.
"Alright… take me to safety," I said, my voice trembling but resolute.
We moved quickly, weaving past ruined buildings, their timber frames blackened, walls scorched, smoke curling into the darkening sky. The smell of ash and blood hung thick in the air. The ground was littered with debris, broken carts, shattered pottery, and scorched cloth. Every step made my stomach twist, the memory of Casi's death and the screams of the dying still echoing in my ears.
We hurried through the temple grounds and finally reached the Old Watchtower, a sturdy, semi-hidden structure at the edge of the temple, long abandoned except in times of emergency. Beneath it lay the vault — a reinforced underground chamber, reserved for nobles and those of high importance when danger struck. Thick stone walls rose around us, torches flickering in iron sconces, casting long, jittering shadows. The air was damp and cool, scented faintly of earth and candle smoke.
Inside, the space was crowded. King Achaleous stood near a table, flanked by his nobles. The Ascend were there, all in their usual composed poise, several High Bound stationed silently like statues. The contrast made my blood boil.
"Good work bringing her to safety, novitiate," Kaelric said, nodding at Lysara. His voice was calm, almost too calm.
I could barely contain myself. My hands trembled as I swung toward the group, the heat of rage coiling tight in my chest. "You're hiding while you send your Bound into battle? What is wrong with you people?!" I screamed, my voice hoarse, raw.
The vault seemed to shrink around me. Every torch flickered, casting monstrous shadows that danced along the stone walls. I could smell sweat and the faint metallic tang of blood seeping from a corner where a High Bound had cleaned a wound. My chest heaved with each breath.
The Bound were out there, risking everything. Their powers were unmatched, yet here they hid, in comfort, while even they could have torn the Forsaken apart. The injustice burned through me like fire.
"I'm going out there to help them," I spat, voice cracking, my hands curling into fists.
Kaelric's eyes narrowed. "You will do nothing of the sort," he said, voice steady, like stone. "You will stay here until we are assured it is safe."
"You cannot tell me what to do!" I shouted, anger slicing through every nerve, each word sharp as a blade.
"Oh yes, I can. And I am," he muttered. "You will stay here until it is safe to come out."
I surged forward, but before I could take more than a step, Kaelric raised his hands in a calm but unyielding gesture. Almost instantly, the High Bound moved like shadows, encircling me. Their grips were iron, unrelenting, pinning my arms and shoulders.
"Let go of me!" I screamed, thrashing against them, the fury and despair inside me making my limbs wild and heavy.
"Do not fight back," Elyndra said softly, her voice cutting through the chaos like glass. "It would be unwise. You will stay here so that you may live to fulfill your duty."
I couldn't stop myself. I struggled, tears slipping freely now, burning trails down my cheeks. The memory of Casi's death, Doya and Kumbuye fighting without me, the villagers I couldn't save, all of it surged into a storm inside me. My chest ached, my hands shook, and my screams echoed against the stone walls.
The vault seemed to pulse with my rage and grief. Torches flickered violently, the shadows twisting as if mirroring the turmoil in my heart. My legs gave way beneath me as exhaustion and heartbreak finally claimed me.
I slumped against the wall, chest heaving, tears still falling, and at last, I let the anger drain, leaving a hollow, aching emptiness. The world narrowed to the damp stone beneath me and the relentless pounding of my heart, still echoing fear, guilt, and rage.
Lysara crouched beside me, one hand gripping mine, her presence a fragile thread of comfort in the storm.
"You'll get your chance," she whispered. "You'll fight again, and you'll save them. But not like this. Not now."
I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breath. The pain of watching friends, allies, even villagers I'd known, being slaughtered gnawed at me. But I knew she was right. I had to survive. I had to endure.
And yet… the fire in my chest did not die. It only waited. Waiting for the right moment to explode.
We stood in the vault's dim light, the heavy silence pressing in. My hands clenched around the edges of the stone bench, every muscle coiled, every thought tangled between fear and fury.
Suddenly, the door burst open, and a Bound stumbled in, his breath ragged, panic written across his face.
"Many of the Forsaken have retreated," he gasped, "but we captured a few."
Darveth, one of the Ascend, stepped forward, his voice steady but sharp. "Is it safe to come out now?"
The Bound hesitated, then nodded. "For now… but we believe they may return."
The words barely left his mouth before a shiver ran down my spine. My heart pounded against my ribs. Waiting. Always waiting. And I knew, deep down, that this was only the beginning.