15. Valen

15

VALEN

T he night is a quiet beast tonight, its breath held in anticipation of our next move. The supply camp below us is a sleeping giant. The dark elves' fires burn low and their guards' attention wanes with the late hour. Rhea's crouching beside me, her presence a constant hum in my heightened senses. Since our intimate night together, the world has taken on a new hue—one where every shadow holds danger, and every moment with her is a stolen fragment of time I never knew I craved.

I signal to Rhea, a subtle nod that sets our plan into motion. We've done this dance before, each step choreographed in the safety of our hidden camp, each cut and thrust practiced until it became as natural as breathing. But tonight, something feels off. My instincts, honed over centuries of survival and subterfuge, scream at me to retreat immediately, to pull Rhea back into the embrace of the darkness that has become our sanctuary.

Yet, unfortunately, we're in too deep now. But I can't shake the gnawing fear in my gut, the fear that something might happen to her if we go any further. I simply cannot bear the thought of losing the one person who has managed to thaw the ice encasing my heart for centuries.

Slowly, we move as one. Our footfalls are silent upon the forest floor, our forms blending with the night. The camp is within striking distance now, the guards oblivious to the storm about to descend upon them. I can almost taste the victory, the sweet satisfaction of another successful raid.

But then suddenly, the air shatters with the deadly whisper of arrows.

We stand frozen briefly, the world around us erupting into chaos. Rhea's eyes meet mine, wide with surprise but devoid of fear nevertheless. She's a true warrior now, her spirit forged in the fires of our relentless war against the dark elves.

"Down!" I shout, my voice cutting through the cacophony. I tackle her to the ground, my body shielding hers as the arrows rain down around us. The ground beneath us erupts in a storm of debris, the enemy's archers having pinpointed our location with alarming accuracy.

Rhea gasps beneath me, her heart racing in sync with my own. "Valen," she breathes, her voice steady despite the danger. "We need to move now."

I nod, my mind racing through our options. The element of surprise is gone, but we're not out of the fight yet. "Stay low," I instruct, helping her to her feet. We dart from one patch of cover to another, the enemy's arrows chasing our every step.

We soon reach the relative safety of a thick cluster of trees, our breaths coming in ragged gasps. Rhea leans against the trunk of an ancient oak, her eyes scanning the chaos of the battlefield.

"They were waiting for us," she says, her voice laced with irritation and slight surprise.

I grit my teeth, the truth of her words settling like a lead weight on my chest. "They knew we were coming," I mutter. The realization stings, a reminder that we're not just fighting mindless soldiers—we're up against a cunning and resourceful enemy.

Suddenly, dark elves spring from every direction and rush towards us, their blades gleaming in the moonlight. I swing my blade with ease, cutting down the first dark elf that dares to challenge me. The moonlight casts an ethereal glow on the battlefield, turning the chaos into a grotesque dance of death and desperation. Rhea is a blur of motion to my right, her sword singing a deadly song as she fights with the fury of a woman reborn in fire and vengeance.

"Fall back!" I bellow, my voice a primal roar that slices through the din of clashing steel. But Rhea is already too deep within the enemy ranks, her body moving with a lethal grace that I've come to know all too well.

All of a sudden, pain sears through my side, a white-hot lance that steals my breath. An arrow, tipped with the venomous blood of a demon, finds its mark. The toxin is a vile concoction, designed to fell even the mightiest of my kind. My vision starts to swim, the world tilting dangerously as I stumble backwards, my hand instinctively going to the wound. Warm blood coats my fingers, and a wave of dizziness washes over me.

I grit my teeth tight, forcing myself to remain standing. The dark elves close in, their smug grins taunting me with the promise of victory. I can't let them see my weakness, can't let them know that with each heartbeat, my strength ebbs away like the receding tide.

Rhea is still fighting unaware of my injury, her every move a testament to the strength and resilience she's gained over these past several weeks. She's a beacon of defiance amidst the sea of darkness that threatens to consume us both. But with the poison coursing through my veins, I'm losing the ability to protect her, to ensure her survival in this brutal world we've chosen to defy.

"Valen!" Her voice cuts through the fog of pain, a lifeline in the midst of the storm. I can hear the concern etched into the syllables of my name, the underlying note of fear that she's trying so desperately to mask. The growing numbers of dark elves approaching seems to be overwhelming even her.

"I'm here," I manage to growl, my sword arm wavering as I slash at another attacker. The blade feels heavy in my grasp, the weight of centuries bearing down upon me in this single, crucial moment.

A dark elf lunges at me, his blade aimed for my heart. I sidestep the attack, my counterstrike finding its mark in his throat. His eyes widen in shock, a silent scream dying on his lips as he collapses at my feet. But for every one I cut down, two more take their place, their numbers seemingly endless.

The world tilts and blurs, a maelstrom of shadows and steel. My body moves on pure instinct alone, a dance of death I've performed a thousand times before. But this time, it's different. This time, I'm not just fighting for my own survival at this point—I'm fighting for Rhea, the woman who has become my everything in this cursed existence.

A dark elf lunges at her from behind, his blade arcing through the air with lethal intent. Time slows to a crawl, every detail etched into my consciousness with crystal clarity. I see the malicious glee in his eyes, the triumphant sneer twisting his lips. I see Rhea, her focus locked on the enemy in front of her, oblivious to the threat creeping up from behind.

I don't think, I can’t think—I act.

With a roar that tears from the depths of my being, I throw myself between them. The impact is a sledgehammer to my chest, the force of it driving the air from my lungs and knocking me off my feet. I hit the ground hard, the world around me fading to a distant hum.

Darkness creeps in at the edges of my vision, a relentless tide threatening to drag me under. I fight it, clawing at consciousness with everything I have left. I can't afford to succumb, not when Rhea's life hangs in the balance.

Her voice cuts through the fog, a lifeline in the chaos. "Valen!" she screams, her tone a mixture of fear and fury. "Stay with me!"

I want to answer her, to tell her that I'm here, that I'll always be here to protect her. But the words won't come, my voice a mere whisper lost in the cacophony of battle.

I watch, helpless, slipping in and out of consciousness, as Rhea transforms before my eyes. Gone is the scared slave I found in the woods, replaced by a fierce warrior whose spirit cannot be broken.

She's a force of nature, a hurricane of vengeance and determination. And in this moment, I've never been prouder of anyone in my long, lonely existence.

But pride is a luxury I can't afford. The poison from the dark elf's arrow is a relentless invader, coursing through my veins and sapping my strength with each passing second. My body is growing heavier, the cold grip of unconsciousness tightening around me.

I can feel myself slipping away, my connection to the physical world becoming tenuous and frayed. I struggle against the encroaching darkness, my thoughts consumed by Rhea and the danger that still surrounds her.

I hear her voice again, softer this time, a mere whisper carried on the wind. "Valen, please... don't leave me," she cries.

The pain in her words is a dagger to my heart, a stark reminder of what's at stake. I try to speak, to offer some semblance of comfort, but my lips won't form the words. My vision is narrowing, the world reduced to a single point of light—Rhea's hazel eyes, flecked with gold and filled with unshed tears.

And then, everything goes black.