The Chronicles of a Fallen Star

Paola took Ayla's hand and stood up, feeling a little steadier on her feet. As they began to move through the forest, she couldn’t help but wonder how Ayla had known about the ambush.

"Ayla," Paola began hesitantly, "how did you know that was going to happen? The ambush, I mean."

Ayla glanced at her, then back at their path. "The ward barrier I set up around us. It alerts me to intrusions once they get close enough."

Paola nodded, thinking back to the events of the previous night. She replayed everything in her head: how Ayla had gently woken her up in the middle of her sleep, whispering for her not to move until the fight broke out. She remembered opening her mouth to ask questions, but Ayla had quickly placed a hand over it, telling her to shh, it's kill or be killed. Then, everything had happened so fast. It was, in total, less than five minutes. Killing the zombies had been one thing, but this...

"Everything was such a blur," Paola said quietly. "I didn't even have time to think."

Ayla nodded, understanding. "It all happened very quickly. You did well, Paola. You saved my life."

Paola tried to take comfort in Ayla’s words, but her mind wandered back to the aftermath of the fight. They'd gone to check the bodies afterward, hoping to scavenge something useful—gear, supplies, anything to help them survive a little longer out here. But everything had been destroyed. Swords shattered, armor torn to shreds, the ground slick with blood. Whatever remained was either too soaked to use or so mangled it might as well have been tossed in a fire. The reality of it hit her in a strange, hollow way: there was nothing left to grab, nothing to salvage from what they'd just done.

"I didn't even get any gear," Paola murmured, more to herself than to Ayla. "Everything was covered in blood or broken. Useless."

Ayla glanced at her again, this time with a hint of sympathy in her eyes, as if sensing the weight of Paola’s thoughts.

Paola could still feel the slickness of the blood on her fingers, the chill of realizing how close they’d been to not walk away at all. The man's final moments—his panicked but determined eyes, the final gurgle in his throat as her blade struck—flashed in her mind, a haunting reminder of what survival out here really meant.

Sensing that Paola was stuck in her thoughts, Ayla spoke up, gently changing the subject.

"Let me tell you more about the falling star prophecy," Ayla said, her tone shifting to something more contemplative. "Every couple of generations... no, even more than that. So far apart that it almost becomes forgotten. The legends never really die out, but they turn into bedtime stories. That is, until the next star falls."

Paola listened, hesitant at first. She didn't want to be some hero, some chosen one. But as Ayla spoke, she found herself drawn into the story, understanding that she wasn't the first to experience this.

"Each time a star falls, it brings hope," Ayla continued. "But it also brings great responsibility. The fallen star is meant to lead us, to protect us from the darkness that threatens our world. It’s a heavy burden, but one that is necessary."

Paola frowned, her gaze dropping to the ground. "I don't know if I can do that, Ayla. I don’t feel like a hero."

Ayla smiled sadly. "I understand, Paola. It’s a lot to take in. But know this—you're not alone. Each fallen star has had help along the way. They didn’t do it alone, and neither will you."

Paola shuffled along, looking down at her pink slippers. The idea of being a hero, of being responsible for so much, was overwhelming. She felt a pang of guilt for not wanting it, but also a sense of dread for what lay ahead.

Ayla seemed to sense her turmoil. "You know," she said softly, "I never had the luck, never dreamed, never ever thought my life would intersect with someone like you. If only for the briefest of moments, it’s more than I ever imagined."

Paola looked at Ayla, seeing the longing in her eyes. Ayla wanted a destiny greater than she believed she could have, and she was genuinely happy to be a part of Paola's journey, even if it was just for a short time.

"Thank you, Ayla," Paola said, her voice barely above a whisper. "For everything. I don't know if I can do this, but knowing you're with me... it helps."

Ayla glanced back at Paola, a sadness lingering in her eyes. Paola noticed Ayla’s hand moving to scratch behind her ear, a nervous look on her face. The gesture sent a pang through Paola’s stomach. She knew that look; it was a universal sign of something awkward yet to be discussed. But to her surprise, Ayla brought it up.

"Yeah, about that…" Ayla began hesitantly, her voice wavering slightly. Paola’s heart tightened in her chest as she braced herself for what was coming. Ayla’s demeanor had shifted from the confident protector to someone grappling with her own emotions.

"My role as a Sword Maiden is…" Ayla paused, searching for the right words, "Well, it doesn’t give me much freedom. If any, really."

Paola’s steps faltered, her gaze fixed on Ayla. "What do you mean?" she asked, though part of her already knew where this was heading.

Ayla sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Although this time with you has been… wonderful, it can’t last. We shouldn’t expect more than what these moments bring us. Once we return to Valarian… things will change."

Paola’s throat tightened, and she stared down at her pink bunny slippers as she shuffled behind Ayla. The feeling was akin to a pre-breakup talk, even though it didn’t make complete sense. She wanted to argue, to say something to change Ayla’s mind, but the truth was undeniable. They had known each other for just a couple of days, and it had been Paola who had made the advances. The blush on her cheeks deepened as she remembered those moments, her face growing warm.

Ayla continued, her voice filled with a quiet sorrow. "In Valarian, I have duties, responsibilities that I can’t shirk. My life there is… structured, bound by the expectations of my role. This—" she gestured to the space between them, "—this is an anomaly, a beautiful one, but an anomaly, nonetheless. When I told you I’d be replaced, Paola," She hesitated. “I’m sorry.”

Paola felt her chest tighten further. She didn’t want to admit how much those words hurt, how alone she felt despite Ayla’s presence. She had been thrust into this strange world, and Ayla was the only anchor she had found. The thought of losing that, of returning to a place where Ayla might be out of reach, was almost too much to bear.

"I understand," Paola whispered, her voice barely audible. She tried to keep her emotions in check, but it was a struggle. "I just… I don’t know what I’ll do without you."

Ayla stopped and turned to face her, her expression softening. "Paola, you are stronger than you realize. You’ve already faced so much and come out the other side. You’ll find your way, I promise."

Paola nodded, though she didn’t fully believe it. She looked up at Ayla, taking in the sight of her strong, yet gentle protector. "I know we’ve only just met, but it feels like… like I’ve known you longer. Like we were meant to find each other."

Ayla’s eyes softened further, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Maybe we were. Fate has a funny way of bringing people together, even if only for a short time."

Paola tried to hold onto that small comfort. She looked over Ayla’s frame once more, committing every detail to memory. She shouldn’t catch feelings, she reminded herself. It was too soon, too uncertain. But the feeling of loneliness was overwhelming, and she couldn’t shake it off.

"I wish things were different," Paola said softly, her voice breaking slightly. "I wish we could have more time."

Ayla looked at Paola, a gentle sadness in her eyes. "I wish we had more time too, Paola," she said softly. "But we do have a couple of weeks before we get back to Valarian. That is, as long as nothing else comes up."

Paola let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Two weeks sounded like an eternity and a heartbeat all at once. "A couple of weeks," she repeated, trying to make it feel more tangible.

Ayla nodded, but there was a hesitancy in her movements. "My life is truly overwhelmed, Paola. This journey—these two weeks—is the longest I’ve been away from either Lady Marcelline or her Manor since I was twenty-two. Seven years now."

Paola absorbed this information, having already learned during their talks that Ayla was twenty-nine, just a year older than herself. The constraints of Ayla’s life became clearer, and Paola felt a surge of sympathy.

"Tell me more about Lady Marcelline," Paola prompted, eager to understand more about the world Ayla was tied to.

Ayla sighed, a wistful expression crossing her face. "Lady Marcelline is a remarkable woman. She’s always busy, always moving, always thinking. She’s smart, cunning, and incredibly caring. She takes care of everyone she meets, but the cost of what she does comes at the price of freedom."

Paola nodded, feeling the weight of Ayla’s words. "So, you and your team never get time for yourselves," she said quietly.

Ayla’s gaze grew distant. "No, we don’t. Our lives are dedicated to Lady Marcelline and her causes. We follow her everywhere, ensuring her safety, aiding in her endeavors. It’s rewarding, but…"

"But?" Paola asked, sensing Ayla’s hesitation.

Ayla paused for a long moment, as if gathering her thoughts. "It’s a ten-year contract. After the ten years are over…" She sighed deeply. "I’ll have my freedom then."

Paola’s heart ached for Ayla. She understood the constraints of duty and responsibility all too well, but hearing it laid out so starkly made her hate the situation even more. "How much longer do you have left?" she asked, dreading the answer.

"Three more years," Ayla replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paola swallowed hard, trying to process everything. She hated that Ayla was bound by such a rigid commitment. She hated that they were already talking about the end of their brief time together. Most of all, she hated how helpless she felt in changing any of it. Yet, she didn’t show this turmoil, biting her bottom lip to keep her emotions in check.

Ayla mentioned in passing that she had bad luck, but Paola couldn’t believe that. Despite everything, Ayla had a strength and grace that Paola admired. As they walked, her mind raced with thoughts of the two-week journey ahead. It was a daunting prospect after the hellish two days she had already endured. She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling her nakedness more acutely than ever. She longed for her baggy sweater, her sweats, her socks—anything to make her feel less exposed.

Lost in her thoughts, Paola didn’t realize Ayla had stopped walking. She looked up, startled to find Ayla’s mismatched eyes watching her closely.

"Sorry, what?" Paola asked, snapping back to the present.

Ayla quickly brought her hand up and placed it over Paola’s mouth, shushing her. She placed a finger to her own lips, her mismatched eyes started scanning the horizon around them. The thin forest and rocky terrain of the Spinal Range stretched out around them, slowly descending into the valley where Valarian lay. Paola, though initially confused, was intrigued by the concept of this land. Ayla had explained that life seemed to grow magically from the remains of an ancient beast, a thought that fascinated her. Magic itself was still something Paola was trying to wrap her mind around. But those thoughts were fleeting as Ayla’s expression grew more concerned.

Ayla summoned her dagger and handed it to Paola. The obsidian blade felt oddly comfortable in her grasp, a stark contrast to the heaviness that settled in her heart. The memory of the man she had killed surfaced, his eyes meeting hers in a haunting vision. His voice whispered in her ears, "You’re a monster." Paola shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts, but the knife now felt heavier than ever.

Ayla’s voice cut through the silent air, shaky but urgent. "We have to run," she said, looking up into the sky. "We have to run now."

Without hesitation, Ayla pulled Paola along. Paola followed, her heart pounding in her chest. "What is it?" she asked, her voice barely steady.

"Cave Hounds," Ayla replied as calmly as she could, though a slight note of panic tinged her words. The same beasts have back for her. The same monsters that started everything.

Far off in the distance, the howling began. It sounded like ten, or twenty different howls, each one more chilling than the last. The urgency in Ayla’s stride increased, and Paola matched her pace as they moved through the rocky passes.

The terrain was treacherous, with jagged rocks and uneven ground making each step perilous. Paola’s mind raced, fear gnawing at her resolve. She glanced at Ayla, who was focused and determined despite the rising panic.

"We need to find shelter," Ayla muttered, her eyes darting around as they ran. "They hunt in packs and won’t stop until they’ve caught their prey."

Paola felt her breath quicken, the reality of their situation settling in. The howls grew louder, closer, echoing through the mountains. She clutched the dagger tightly, its cold weight grounding her in the moment.

Ayla led them through a narrow ravine, the walls closing in around them. "If I remember correctly, there’s a cave up ahead," she said, her voice strained. "We might be able to hold them off there."

Paola nodded, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. The sounds of pursuit were terrifyingly close now, the howls mingling with the pounding of her heart. Paola swore she could feel the hot breaths of the beasts on her heels. The howls of the hounds were terrifyingly close, echoing through the narrow ravine. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her legs burned with the effort of running. Ayla led the way, her eyes scanning for their destination.

“There!” Ayla pointed to a dark opening in the rock face. “The cave! Go!”

Paola’s fear was overwhelming, and she didn’t dare look back. She pushed herself harder, the entrance to the cave looming closer. Just as they reached it, Ayla turned and shoved Paola inside with a forceful push.

“Run further inside!” Ayla yelled, her voice urgent. “Keep going!”

Paola hesitated, staring into the dark cavern. The light from the entrance was quickly swallowed by the abyss within. She turned back, her curiosity overcoming her fear for a moment. That’s when she finally saw them. These... these were the things that Ayla spoke of, these were the beasts attacked Lady Marcelline’s carriage.

The Cave Hounds were monstrous, fearsome beasts born from the darkest caverns. They combined the massive, muscular bodies of both cats and dogs, covered in dark, matted fur. They ran on all fours, but as they neared the cave, they rose on their hind legs, revealing powerful jaws lined with sharp yellow teeth. Their arms hung low with claws that nearly scraped the ground. Their eyes glowed with an eerie bioluminescence, seeing perfectly in the pitch-black darkness.

The pack moved with terrifying coordination, their howls sending shivers down Paola’s spine. The sound disoriented her, making her head spin. She saw their bioluminescent markings flickering in the darkness, a method of communication that added to the disorienting effect. These creatures were expert hunters, and they were closing in fast. Paola stumbled back, falling onto her backside as she stared out the mouth of the cave in horror. Her knife fumbled from her grip, clattering to the ground. She scrambled to pick it up, her hands shaking uncontrollably.

Ayla, standing at the entrance, readied herself without a flicker of fear crossing her features. She glanced back at Paola, her expression a mixture of determination and urgency. “Paola, move! Get deeper inside!”

Paola forced herself to her feet, her legs trembling. She turned and ran further into the cave, the darkness consuming her. The sounds of the Cave Hounds grew louder, their growls and snarls echoing through the cavern. She risked one last glance back and saw Ayla standing firm, her stance unwavering.

The first of the Cave Hounds reached the entrance, its massive form blocking out the light. It reared up on its hind legs, emitting a bone-chilling howl that echoed through the cave. Paola’s head throbbed at the sounds, like the screams of a hundred lost souls. She wanted to cover her ears, to block out the cacophony of sound. It was like being beat over the head with a hammer, making her brain rattle inside her skull.

Ayla swung her sword with precision, the blade catching the first Hound across its snout. It recoiled, snarling in pain. Ayla’s movements were fluid and controlled, each strike calculated. Despite the fearsome presence of the beasts, she showed no signs of hesitation. That was only the initial encounter, the introduction to the battle to come.

Paola stumbled deeper into the cave, her eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness. She could still hear the sounds of the battle at the entrance, Ayla’s determined grunts mingling with the snarls of the Cave Hounds. She clutched her knife tightly, her fingers trembling. The cave seemed to stretch on endlessly, but she couldn’t stop. She had to trust that Ayla would hold them off. The fear was almost paralyzing, but Paola forced herself to move, her mind racing with thoughts of survival. The memory of the man’s haunting voice lingered, but she pushed it aside, focusing on the immediate danger.

The howls of the Cave Hounds echoed behind her, a chilling reminder of the deadly predators on their heels. She could only hope that Ayla’s strength and skill would be enough to protect them both.

* * *

Ayla gave one last glance back as Paola's frame disappeared into the darkness of the cave. The Cave Hounds were closing in, their bioluminescent eyes glowing ominously in the shadows. Ayla tightened her grip on her massive broadsword, feeling the familiar weight of the weapon in her hands. With a whispered incantation, the blade ignited in a blue flame, the light casting eerie shadows on the cave walls. She held it like a katana, her stance fluid and ready. These were the very beasts that separated her from Lady Marcelline's carriage in the first place, and they were intent on finishing the job.

The first Hound lunged at her, its claws swiping through the air with deadly precision. Ayla met it with a swift, horizontal slash, her sword leaving a trail of blue fire in its wake. The creature howled in pain as the flames seared its flesh, but another Hound was already upon her. She pivoted, using the momentum of her first strike to bring her sword around in a wide arc, slicing through the air and catching the second Hound across its chest.

"Flame's Cross!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the cavern. As she swung her sword, a secondary blade of fire materialized, extending her reach and impact. The ethereal flame sword cleaved through the Hounds, leaving a path of destruction in its wake. The creatures fell back, their snarls turning to screams as the fire consumed them.

But there were too many. The Hounds moved with a terrifying coordination, their claws flashing like daggers. Ayla parried and blocked, her sword dancing through the air. She countered with a rapid series of thrusts and slashes, each one accompanied by bursts of blue flame. Despite her skill, the sheer number of enemies was overwhelming. Last time, she fled, leading the hounds away from the carriage. There would be no fleeing this time. Once they got past her, they would get to Paola.

Then, one Hound managed to get past her defenses, its claws raking across her side. Ayla hissed in pain but didn't falter. She spun on her heel, bringing her sword down in a powerful overhead strike. The blade bit deep into the Hound's skull, splitting it open. Blood sprayed across the cave floor, the coppery scent mingling with the smell of burning flesh.

Ayla's movements were a blur, her sword a whirlwind of blue fire. She fought with a savage grace, each strike precise and deadly. But the Hounds were relentless. They pressed in from all sides, their eyes glowing with a malevolent intelligence. They fought like martial artists, their claws cutting through the air with deadly accuracy.

Ayla found herself cornered, the Hounds closing in. She took a deep breath, her eyes narrowing with determination. "Frost Step!" she called out, dashing forward. Ice formed beneath her feet, spreading out in a shimmering trail. The Hounds that crossed it howled as the cold bit into their flesh, slowing their advance. Ayla used the maneuver to reposition, putting some distance between her and the bulk of the pack.

She turned, raising her sword just in time to block a powerful swipe from one of the larger Hounds. The impact sent a jolt through her arms, but she held firm. With a grunt of effort, she shoved the Hound back and countered with a diagonal slash. The blade cut deep, severing the creature's arm. It fell back with a scream, but more took its place.

The fight was a deadly dance, Ayla moving with practiced precision. She alternated between her fiery strikes and icy maneuvers, the cave floor littered with the bodies of the fallen. Despite her skill, the Hounds' numbers were taking their toll. Ayla's movements grew slower, her breathing more labored. She felt the sting of claws and teeth, her blood staining the ground.

A particularly vicious Hound lunged at her, its jaws snapping inches from her face. Ayla twisted, barely avoiding the bite, and brought her sword up in a desperate parry. The creature's claws raked across her arm, leaving deep gashes. She cried out in pain but didn't relent. With a roar, she drove her sword into the Hound's chest, the blade bursting into blue flames.

The Hound fell back, its body convulsing as the fire consumed it. Ayla staggered, her vision swimming. She was bleeding from multiple wounds, her strength waning. The Mirror Mantle ability, which should have reflected the damage back to her attackers, was still on cooldown from the earlier fight with the bandits. She couldn't rely on it now.

She glanced around, assessing her situation. The Hounds were closing in, their eyes glowing with predatory hunger. She knew she had one last option, a final gambit to turn the tide of battle. It was a risky move, one that would leave her drained and vulnerable, but she had no choice.

Ayla took a deep breath, centering herself. "Elemental Storm," she whispered, summoning the last of her stamina and mana. The air around her crackled with energy, the temperature shifting wildly between scorching heat and biting cold. She raised her sword, the blue flames flaring brightly.

The Hounds hesitated, sensing the shift in power. Ayla channeled everything she had into the spell, the cave filling with a deafening roar. Flames and ice erupted from her sword, swirling together in a chaotic storm. The fire burned with an intense heat, while the ice spread out in jagged shards, freezing everything in its path. Ayla's broadsword glowed with an intense light as she summoned the power of both fire and ice. The cave filled with a blinding brilliance as she unleashed the Elemental Storm, a massive surge of elemental energy that covered the entire area. Flames and ice swirled together in a chaotic dance, consuming everything in their path.

The Cave Hounds were caught in the storm, their bodies writhing and convulsing as the extreme elemental damage tore through them. Fire scorched their fur and flesh, while ice froze their limbs and shattered their bones. The air filled with the sounds of their anguished howls, a cacophony of pain and fury that echoed through the cave.

Ayla stood at the center of the storm, her body trembling with the effort of maintaining the attack. The power of the Elemental Storm was immense, but it came at a great cost. She felt her energy draining rapidly, her vision blurring as her strength ebbed away. She gritted her teeth, pushing through the pain and exhaustion to ensure the attack was complete.

When the storm finally subsided, the cave was littered with the charred and frozen remains of the Cave Hounds. Ayla's knees buckled, and she fell to the ground, her broadsword slipping from her grasp. Her body was covered in deep cuts and bites, her black metal armor dented and bloodied. She could barely move, every muscle screaming in agony. Slowly, she pulled herself to her feet, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Ayla gripped her sword, the blue flames extinguished. She swayed on her feet, her vision blurring. The last of the Hounds lay dead around her, their bodies scorched and shattered. She had done it, but the cost was high. Her body ached, every movement sending waves of pain through her.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Paola needed her, and she couldn't afford to collapse now. Paola was strong, but the Cave Hounds were cunning, relentless hunters. If even one got past her... Ayla shook her head, pushing the thought aside. She stared around at the mess of bodies littering the cave entrance, leaning heavily on her broadsword. The fire slowly faded, and the cave began to grow dark. The mouth of the cave provided just enough space for her to fight, any deeper, and her broadsword would have been a hindrance. Still, her body trembled, and her vision was blurry as she heard more howls echoing from up the hill they originally came down from. History was bound to repeat itself. She knew it. Cave Hounds didn’t stop.

She glanced out the cave and saw another group slowly coming over the hill, the smell of their fallen kin drawing them forward cautiously, but not enough to deter them, much to Ayla’s dismay. She was an Obsidian Tier Sword Maiden, but even she had her limits. Her ring held one stamina potion, which she summoned with a shaky hand. The glass bottle appeared, containing a golden liquid with yellow flakes drifting inside. She swirled it, the familiar sight doing little to calm her nerves. Originally, she had this and a healing potion. She glanced back into the cave, where Paola had wandered on her command. Paola was alive because Ayla had given her that potion. So... There was that.

Ayla looked down at her wounds. Her side was torn open by several claw marks, her arm was bitten down to the bone, though luckily not her sword arm, and her thigh bore similar injuries. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the pain was becoming unbearable. The hounds were nearing the mouth of the cave, their eyes locked on her. She needed to find Paola.

Slowly, and painfully, she swallowed the potion. It tasted like pineapple juice, sweet and slightly tangy, and of the highest quality. She felt life surge through her, her body temporarily ignoring the injuries for five precious minutes. That was all she needed to find Paola and get them both out of there.

As Ayla lifted herself from her sword and turned into the cave, she saw Paola walking out of the darkness. Her bare frame bore similar scars and bites, her eyes wide as she stared at Ayla.

For a moment, silence hung between them. Paola looked over the Sword Maiden, her expression one of horror and concern. "Ayla, you’re hurt!" she nearly cried, rushing to Ayla’s side. Her hands trembled as she tried to close the wounds with nothing more than her shaking fingers.

Ayla grabbed Paola’s hand, her grip firm despite the pain. "We need to move," she said, urgency in her voice. "Now."

The howl at the mouth of the cave forced Ayla into action. She pulled Paola deeper into the cave, the two of them sprinting through the darkness. The howls grew louder, echoing off the cave walls, and Ayla knew the hounds were close behind. Her heart pounded in her chest, her muscles burning with effort, but she couldn't stop.

They ran through narrow passages, the cave twisting and turning, with jagged rocks and uneven ground making each step perilous. Paola stumbled, but Ayla's grip on her hand kept her upright. The sounds of pursuit were terrifyingly close now, the hounds' snarls and growls echoing through the tunnels.

"Faster!" Ayla urged, her voice strained.

Paola didn't reply, her breath coming in gasps as she pushed herself to keep up. The cave suddenly opened up into a vast chamber, and Ayla felt a flicker of hope. They had to find somewhere to hide, somewhere the hounds couldn’t reach them. In the distance, she saw the outline of ancient structures... an abandoned underground city? "There!" she shouted, pulling Paola towards the ruins. "We can make it!"

The hounds were right behind them, their glowing eyes reflecting the fearsome determination to catch their prey. Ayla felt the potion's effects starting to wane, the pain in her wounds growing more intense. She gritted her teeth, focusing on the city ahead.

They reached the outskirts of the city, the ancient stone buildings looming over them. The hounds slowed, their howls turning to growls of frustration. For some reason, they hesitated to enter the city. Ayla didn’t question their luck. She pushed Paola forward, both of them stumbling into the shadows of the ancient structures. Stone buildings rose up around them, crumbling but still sturdy. There were no signs of life, the city long abandoned. Glowing green moss grew over everything, providing just enough light to see by. They stumbled deeper into the city, searching for a place to hide.

Ayla leaned against a crumbling wall, her strength finally giving out. Paola dropped beside her, her eyes wide with confusion and fear. "Why did they stop?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ayla shook her head, trying to catch her breath. "I don’t know," she admitted, her voice weak. "But we need to stay hidden. They might come back."

Paola nodded, her hands still shaking. She glanced around the abandoned city, the eerie silence a stark contrast to the chaos they had just escaped. "This place… it’s ancient," she murmured, her eyes wide with wonder.

Ayla forced herself to focus. "We’ll explore later," she said, her voice firm despite her exhaustion. "For now, we need to find somewhere safe to rest." She tried to get up off the wall, but her legs gave out, and she sank back down with a hiss of pain.

"You're bleeding," Paola whispered, her eyes fixed on the Sword Maiden.

"It's nothing," Ayla muttered, but she knew the truth. She glanced over Paola's naked frame, the injuries she bore matching her own. "Besides, so are you."

"Not like you," Paola insisted, her eyes filled with worry.

Ayla sighed, forcing a weak smile. "Don't worry about me, Paola." But her tone lacked conviction, her voice wavering.

Paola bit her bottom lip, her eyes scanning the Sword Maiden's battered form. She looked around, her gaze lingering on an old stone building nearby. "That looks like an old temple," she murmured, gesturing to the structure. "Maybe there's some bandages or medicine inside."

"We can try," Ayla replied, her voice heavy with uncertainty. But when Paola went to pull Ayla up, the pain in her leg flared, causing her to cry out in agony. "Stop, please!" Blood leaked from the wound in her thigh, dripping onto the moss-covered ground.

Paola recoiled, her hands trembling. "Ayla, I'm so sorry. I didn't—"

"I know," Ayla whispered, gritting her teeth. "I'll stay here, Paola. You go. Look for something we can use to patch ourselves up."

Paola's gaze darted between the temple and Ayla, her uncertainty clear.

"Please, Paola," Ayla pleaded. "I hate to ask, truly, but I can't do this alone. Please."

Paola's shoulders slumped, and she nodded. "Alright, Ayla. But you better not die while I'm gone."

Ayla laughed, the sound weak but genuine. Their eyes met, and Paola felt a surge of emotion. Despite the pain and fear, the Sword Maiden still managed to bring a small ray of hope to her. Paola smiled, a flicker of warmth blooming in her chest. "Hurry," Ayla's voice was soft, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Paola said nothing, and without further prompting, she stood and headed toward the temple.

Ayla leaned her head against the cold stone, the pain overwhelming. She closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths to steady herself. Yet, she knew that was no good. She sighed knowing she only sent Paola away, she didn't want her here when she...

Ayla shook her head, trying to dispel the negative thoughts. "I'm not dying here," she said aloud, her voice resolute. "I won't." But, in the back of her mind, a dark voice whispered, "You already have."

She closed her eyes, ready to accept the inevitable, but a sound broke the silence, a soft, melodious voice.

"The Tree of Life embraces all," It spoke in its familiar tone, "Even the wounded, the weary, the broken." It was the welcoming words of the Tree of Life, to those who came seeking healing and respite. But... how? The Tree of Life required one to enter the Grove of Echoes to access it, but she was dying in a cave. She had no way to...

"No mames, you're heavy for such a small woman," Paola grunted, the strain obvious. "What the fuck do they feed you?"