I lie on the ground, staring up through the trees at the bits of sky visible between the branches and leaves. The speeder hums softly beside us, and I glance over at Apollo, still standing guard, with DP-7 hovering beside him. Nikko is lying against a tree, asleep, her tail occasionally twitching.

How much longer? I wonder, feeling the weight of anxiety settle in. Suddenly, Nikko shoots up, her expression angry as she sniffs the air. Apollo and DP-7 react as well, DP-7's red eyes scanning the surroundings, zipping left and right. Apollo readies his spear and shield. Fear grips me as I get to my feet.

Ahead of us, many cloaked figures emerge from the trees. They wear black cloaks, their faces obscured except for their glowing yellow eyes. They wield black swords, and their shoulders bear a strange crest: a great eye, lidless and glowing yellow against a red background. Nikko rushes over to me, her own fear though hidden by a determined look on her face. She draws a weapon similar to the ones IG-22 uses but smaller.

The figures step closer, unperturbed by Apollo's towering stature. They charge.

Apollo meets them head-on, his spear moving with precise, deadly efficiency. He skewers one figure through the chest, then swings his shield to bash another, sending them sprawling. His movements are fluid, each strike measured and powerful. DP-7 darts around, firing red bolts at the attackers and they fall to his shots, smoke rising from their glowing chest wounds.

The cloaked figures multiply, each arrival marked by a sinister puff of black smoke. They advance on us relentlessly, forcing Apollo to split his attention as several slip past his defenses, charging straight toward Nikko and me.

Nikko steadies herself, her small frame unshaken as she raises her weapon, firing red bolts of energy with pinpoint accuracy. Cloaked attackers fall with each shot, yet I find myself paralyzed, fear rooting me in place. My heart pounds wildly as one of the figures reaches Nikko, grabbing her by the throat and lifting her off the ground. She kicks and thrashes, but its grip is unyielding, the eerie darkness of its hooded face fixed on her.

Without thinking, I reach for my knife, surging forward. My hand trembles, but I drive the blade deep into the attacker's arm. It releases Nikko with a pained snarl, and she drops to the ground, gasping for air. But before I can react, the figure's fist crashes into my face, sending me reeling back, pain exploding across my cheek and blood trickling from my nose.

Nikko, enraged, pulls her knife and jumps on the man, stabbing him multiple times in the chest. Her face is a mask of fury. I get up, wiping the blood from my face with my sleeve. I look over at Apollo, who stands amidst a sea of corpses, our attackers all dead. The only sound is Nikko's and my heavy breathing.

"Are you okay?" Nikko asks, her sweet and caring demeanor returning as she approaches me.

"I think so," I reply, wincing from the pain in my nose. "Are you okay?"

Nikko nods, gripping each of her weapons tightly as her attention returns to Apollo. But in an instant, a crackling arc of dark lightning slams into him, and he collapses with a heavy, metallic thud. My heart leaps as I whirl around, only to see more cloaked figures materializing from clouds of shadowy smoke, their eyes glowing with an unnatural yellow light, dark lightning flickering at their fingertips. They stand still, watching us intently like predators sizing up their prey.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

"Apollo! Apollo, come in!" Ryu's voice crackles over Apollo's comm, sharp with worry. But Apollo remains silent, his figure lying motionless on the ground. "Apollo!" Ryu calls again, his voice heavy with desperation. I glance around, half-hoping to see Ryu, Talia, or even IG-22 rushing to our aid, but there's no one. It's just us, and I feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

Nikko steadies herself and raises her weapon, her face set in fierce determination. She fires a rapid series of shots, and while most of the cloaked figures dodge, one takes a direct hit in the chest and crumples to the ground. The remaining figures retaliate immediately, sending bolts of dark lightning arcing toward us. We leap out of the way, the crackling energy slamming into the speeder, its metal shell sparking and sizzling with the force.

Nikko keeps firing, her shots striking two more of our attackers. As they fall, I seize the moment to dash toward the fallen figure where I left my knife embedded in his arm. I yank it free, but before I can react, one of the cloaked figures charges, striking me square in the face and sending me reeling to the ground. The impact leaves my head spinning, the world a blur of shadows and pain.

Through my dazed vision, I see the remaining figures closing in on Nikko. She moves with surprising agility, dodging their grasps on all fours and striking out with her knife whenever she finds an opening. She manages to slash one figure across the leg, forcing him to stagger back with a pained hiss. Another figure grabs her by the collar, lifting her, but she drives her blade into his neck, and he releases her with a gurgling gasp, collapsing in a dark pool.

But one final attacker remains, and he lunges forward, landing a harsh kick that sends Nikko sprawling backward. She rolls, recovering her balance, and lifts her weapon, firing a shot that him in the shoulder. The figure stumbles but quickly closes the distance, grabbing her by the throat and lifting her into the air.

I blink, willing my vision to clear as I push myself off the ground. Nikko thrashes, her small hands clawing at the figure's grip as she gasps for breath, her weapon slipping from her grasp. My stomach drops, but just as all seems lost, two piercing red bolts slice through the air, striking the cloaked figure squarely in the chest. He's thrown backward, releasing Nikko, who crashes to the ground, clutching her throat and coughing.

Turning, I see Apollo lying where he fell, his right arm raised, two barrels extending from his wrist. His head tilts ever so slightly in our direction, then, as if satisfied, he lowers his arm, retracting the barrels back into his wrist, and his head shifts back toward the sky, once again motionless and silent.

Nikko rushes over to me and helps me to my feet. I struggle to stand as my head still spins. Suddenly, a dozen more cloaked figures appear around us, their yellow eyes glaring.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

"A futile effort," one of them says, their voice deep and foul. "But you are only delaying the inevitable," another adds in the same voice.

Fear grips me again, but Nikko remains stern, hissing at them. They step closer, lightning crackling from their hands. Suddenly, a pink bolt flies by and hits one in the chest, followed by a yellow bolt striking another. We turn to see Ryu and Talia rushing over, Ryu holding a weapon similar to Nikko's but larger, and Talia wielding a black bow with a line of pink energy as its string.

Ryu holsters his weapon and draws the hilt of a sword. A vibrant yellow blade of energy ignites with a sharp hum, casting a warm, almost eerie glow across the trees. I can't help but feel a sense of awe and fear as the figures charge forward, their faces concealed beneath dark hoods, blades glinting in their hands. Ryu steps forward with a deadly grace, his blade moving with precision. The figures that charge him are cut down instantly, the yellow light slicing cleanly through them as if their body were mere paper. Their swords clatter to the ground, followed by their collapsing forms.

The remaining cloaked figures hesitate, glancing at each other, but they soon raise their hands in unison, summoning a dark, crackling energy between their fingers. Runes materialize in glowing, red circles before their hands, swirling like symbols of doom. In an instant, they unleash bolts of dark lightning towards Ryu, the air around them filling with a chilling hum of pure power. I gasp, and even Talia's breath catches as the lighting surges forward, a fierce storm of jagged energy.

Ryu raises his free hand to meet the lightning head-on. The combined energy strikes his hand with such intensity that he's pushed back, his boots skidding over the ground as he holds his stance. His body seems to resist the violent torrent, his shoulders tense, his stance unwavering.

"Papa, no!" Nikko cries out, her small voice filled with fear as the relentless assault continues, dark energy pouring from the summoning circles, sending jagged bolts tearing through the night toward Ryu.

The yellow blade retracts into his hilt, disappearing with a loud hiss, and for a moment, Ryu turns his face away from the attack as the lightning intensifies, its force doubling in raw ferocity. My heart beats wildly, a pit of worry settling in my stomach as the lightning swarms around him in a horrifying storm. And yet, Ryu doesn't falter. Instead, he turns back to face his attackers. With one swift motion, he raises his hand, and to my utter shock, brilliant blue lightning erupts from his fingertips, surging forward with an unnatural ease. He's not casting any incantation, no summoning circle—just raw power channeled through his hand. What is he?

The blue lightning collides with the dark energy, overpowering it with a surge so intense that the attackers stagger, their dark magic faltering. Then, with a controlled release, Ryu's unseen force pushes the dark energy back, forcing it into the hands of the cloaked figures. They recoil, and Ryu reignites the yellow blade, tossing the weapon forward with a swift, fluid motion. It spins through the air in a deadly arc, humming as it cuts through the bodies of the remaining attackers. Both halves of the cloaked figures fall to the ground with a sickening thud as the blade returns to Ryu's hand.

Before I can fully process what I've witnessed, a flash of movement catches my eye. One last cloaked figure sneaks past the trees, stealthily advancing toward Nikko, who stands unaware. Talia and I gasp as the figure pounces forward, dagger in hand, but Nikko's shriek halts as the attacker suddenly jerks to a halt midair, suspended as if by invisible strings. I turn to see Ryu's arm outstretched, his fingers curled with commanding control.

With a powerful, sweeping motion of his arm, the figure is hurled to the side, crashing into a thick tree trunk with a brutal impact that reverberates through the forest. The body falls lifelessly to the ground, a chilling silence settling over the scene.

The tension thickens in the silence as we wait, our eyes scanning the dark woods, anticipating more of those shadowy figures. I grip my knife tightly, every muscle in my body taut, ready for an attack that never comes. Ryu clips his weapon onto his belt. Talia and Nikko putting away their weapons as well. For now, we are safe.

Suddenly, my legs give way beneath me, and I collapse onto the forest floor, gasping, trying to steady my breaths. I glance over to see Nikko rushing to her father, throwing herself into his arms. Ryu lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders lowering, a small gesture that somehow speaks volumes of his relief. My heart aches for Nikko; she's so young to be thrust into such terrifying chaos.

Talia appears beside me, offering her hand. "Are you alright?" she asks, her voice steady but with a touch of concern.

"A bit shaken and roughed up," I admit, accepting her hand and rising. I manage a weak smile as she hands me a piece of cloth, and I begin dabbing the blood off my face, feeling the sting but grateful for her kindness.

Nearby, Ryu releases Nikko and looks her over. "Are you hurt?" he asks, his voice gentle yet probing.

She nods, a bit unsteady. "My throat hurts a little," she stammers, "but I'm okay." Nikko glances back at me. "Rebecca saved me, Papa."

Ryu turns his gaze toward me, and even without seeing his expression, I feel the weight of his gratitude. "Thank you," he says simply, but his tone carries profound relief.

Embarrassed, I shake my head. "I didn't do that much," I mutter, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "She's the one who saved me."

Ryu looks at Nikko, then scans the nearby bodies of the fallen attackers. "You did this?" he asks, surprise and a touch of pride clear in his tone.

Nikko nods, her eyes a bit shy but resolute. "I did as you taught me, Papa. Did I do well?"

Ryu places a reassuring hand on her head. "You did very well," he replies, a note of pride in his voice.

Suddenly, Apollo jerks upright with a creak of metal, causing a gasp to escape from me as I stumble back, my heart pounding. Talia and Nikko also startle, though Nikko quickly recovers and peers up at the knight with a look of relief. Apollo gathers himself, his shield and spear clipping back into place on his back.

As Apollo moves closer, his gaze falls upon the smoldering remains of DP-7. His posture shifts ever so slightly, his normally resolute stance softened, and even a touch of sorrow seems to emanate from him—a rare display of emotion in the usually stoic knight. I catch the brief pause in his movements, the way his head tilts down ever so slightly, as though he's honoring a fallen comrade.

My attention turns to Nikko, who stands beside Ryu with her ears flattened and her eyes downcast, a glimmer of sadness shadowing her young face. Talia, too, watches in silence, her lips pressed together, sympathy radiating from her as she rests a gentle hand on Nikko's shoulder. Together, we all stand in a quiet circle around the remains, each of us feeling the weight of the loss in our own way.

Ryu approaches DP-7's burnt frame, his movements measured, almost reverent. He lets out a heavy sigh, kneeling down to carefully pick up what's left of the tiny droid, cradling it in his arms as though it were something far more precious than scorched metal.

"Can DP-7 be fixed?" Talia asks, her voice laced with worry. Nikko's face crumples in sadness as she watches Ryu carry the broken droid to the speeder.

"I don't know," he says quietly as he opens up a compartment in the back of the speeder and places DP-7's remains inside. The trunk clicks shut, and his face hardens. "Either way, we need to leave. Now."

Ryu speaks into his glove, his voice steady yet urgent, instructing IG-22 to return. A short moment passes before the golem appears, moving swiftly yet methodically. For once, I'm actually relieved to see it here, a strange comfort in its presence that I hadn't felt before.

Nikko carefully gathers her weapons, placing them back into her small sheathes with practiced care, while I take a deep breath and begin wiping the blood from my own blade. My hand trembles as I clean it, the weight of what just happened sinking in. I've never actually had to use this knife before, and the images of the attackers—dark cloaks, the flashes of their lightning, the smell of burnt earth—replay in my mind with haunting clarity.

A gentle hand rests on my shoulder, and I turn to see Talia standing beside me, offering a warm, comforting smile. Her expression carries a quiet reassurance that somehow eases the churning anxiety within me. I manage a small smile in return, finally sheathing my knife, feeling a little more grounded with her beside me.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

As the tension in the air lingers, one by one, the bodies of the dead cloaked figures erupt into black flames. The sight shocks me even more, each body suddenly consumed in a blazing darkness, the eerie flames licking their forms and reducing them to ash within seconds. The flames disappear just as quickly as they had come, leaving only the memory of their presence. Every trace of the attackers is erased in the blink of an eye, save for one—the figure Ryu had flung against the tree. A low groan escapes it as it struggles to rise, and Ryu moves toward it without hesitation, his demeanor sharp and purposeful.

"Nikko, I want you to close your eyes and cover your ears," Ryu commands, his voice softer but firm. "I don't want you to see what I'm about to do." Nikko nods quickly, turning away, her small hands covering her ears tightly as she averts her gaze from both Ryu and the wounded figure.

I watch, my heart pounding, as Ryu steps closer to the attacker, extending a hand. The figure lifts off the ground, pressed firmly against the tree by an unseen force, its cloak slipping down to reveal a face that stops my heart: it's an elf. My shock mirrors Talia's, whose expression is a mixture of horror and confusion. Blood drips from the elf's nose, his breaths labored, but what unsettles me the most is his expression—cold, empty, not a trace of fear or hatred, just...blank. Only his low, pained grunts break the silence.

"Where is your master?" Ryu's voice is firm, demanding.

The elf doesn't answer Ryu. Instead, his gaze shifts to Talia, an unsettling smile curling at his lips. "Does this terrify you, Talia?" he asks, his voice disturbingly calm. "Yes, there are elves among our ranks. We are everywhere." The look he gives her is as hollow as it is sinister.

Ryu's hand tightens, the elf letting out a brief grunt as the unseen force squeezes him. "Where is your master? Which dungeon is he heading to?"

For a moment, Ryu eases the pressure, and the elf's breathing stabilizes. He turns his blank gaze toward Ryu. "Don't you have more pressing matters, Ryu? War is upon us. Shouldn't you be trying to stop it?" He smirks, his taunt twisting like a dagger in the silence.

Ryu's fist clenches once more, the elf's expression unchanged, seemingly impervious to pain. "Hurt me all you want," the elf sneers, his voice filled with a twisted conviction. "I'll never tell you. Once more, the world will be cleansed, and I will be one with the Shadow."

Before we can react, black flames burst from the elf's body, consuming him from the feet up. To my horror, he doesn't scream or flinch as the flames engulf him—he just stares at Ryu, the fire climbing higher until it reaches his face, and then, in a flash, his body collapses into a pile of ash, the flames vanishing.

Ryu lets out a heavy sigh, lowering his arm as he steps back, his movements weary. He turns to me, his shadowed face unreadable. "Believe me now?" he asks, his tone a mixture of exhaustion and grim satisfaction as he walks past me, the air thick with the lingering smell of charred ashes.

I stand there, frozen, disbelief flooding through me, mingling with a creeping terror. My mind spins, fighting the truth that has just unfolded before my eyes. No...this can't be. This can't be real. The Shadowfell...

The reality sinks in like a stone in my stomach. It's real. This thing, this darkness—it's real.

"You can stop it...right?" I manage to ask, my voice barely above a whisper, turning to Ryu, hoping for even a sliver of reassurance.

Ryu pauses, turning back to me, but he doesn't say a word. The weight of the silence presses down, and I feel the chill of uncertainty creeping into my bones.

He takes a breath, his tone resolved. "We need to leave now—before more of its followers show up."

Numbly, I nod, following him to the speeder, climbing on with the others in silence. Nikko, Talia, even Apollo—they're all quiet, the gravity of what just happened sitting heavily on each of us. I can barely think, barely find words. What is there to say after this? I can only hope—hope that somehow, against this unimaginable darkness, we have a chance to fight back.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

The speeder glides silently through the sky, its engines a low hum that only heightens the uneasy quiet around us. I'm not sure how long we've been flying. The sun is starting its descent, casting shades of gold and crimson over the horizon. It's beautiful, but I can barely appreciate it. My mind races with the recent memories—days filled with revelations and horrors. For so long, I thought the Shadowfell was just a dark story. Now, I know better, and each heartbeat seems louder, each breath harder to steady. I try to calm myself, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, hoping to find some relief in the view, but it's impossible to shake the weight that settles over me.

I glance over at Ryu, who is focused on a strange glowing window in the center of the console. The lights on it flicker, and odd symbols shift across its surface. His eyes are trained on it, intent, as though searching for something only he can understand. I have no idea what I'm looking at; it's like a window but with movement and no view beyond it. Just strange colors and shapes. I can only guess it's some sort of magic or a spell he's using to guide us, though there's no incantation, no faint glow. Just his quiet focus on this...whatever it is.

Nikko is sound asleep, curled up in Talia's lap, her small face softened by slumber. But Talia's expression mirrors my own—I catch her eyes glancing at me, and in that fleeting look, I see her worry, her own thoughts racing just as mine are. I give her a small nod, though it does little to ease the heaviness in my chest. Beside me, IG-22 and Apollo sit in rigid silence, their unchanging expressions adding a strange weight to the already tense atmosphere.

Ryu's voice finally breaks through, though it's subdued, carrying the same weariness that seems to grip us all. "There's a cave not far from here," he says, his tone faltering slightly. "We can rest there."

I nod, though he's focused on the strange device, guiding the speeder lower as we descend from the reddening sky toward the cave entrance he's mentioned. The cave looms ahead, a dark hollow set into the mountainside. Jagged stones line the mouth, casting long shadows across the ground as the last light of day begins to fade. The speeder settles gently on the ground, and the engines' hum fades, replaced by the soft crunch of our footsteps as we exit and step onto the rough earth.

Ryu gives Apollo a nod, instructing him to scout the cave. With his shield and spear in hand, Apollo strides into the darkness, his footsteps echoing against the stone. The seconds stretch, and I find myself holding my breath, scanning the dark entrance for any sign of movement.

We wait in tense silence, the dim light from the cave casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. Talia cradles Nikko in her arms, holding her close as the little girl sleeps, nestled over her shoulder, undisturbed by the chaos we've just endured. How can she sleep so soundly? I wonder, baffled yet strangely comforted by her peaceful face. At least Nikko's spirit remains untouched, even after everything she's witnessed.

A moment later, Apollo's imposing figure appears at the mouth of the cave. "All clear," he states in that steady, calm tone of his. Relief sweeps over us, and Talia sets Nikko down gently in the speeder, taking extra care not to wake her. Ryu and Talia begin unpacking from their pouches of holding, conjuring supplies and gear that soon transform the cave into a makeshift campsite. It's familiar, almost resembling the previous cave we were in, and the feeling of it helps calm my own frayed nerves.

Apollo, ever watchful, leaves the cave to patrol the perimeter, his steps echoing faintly as he fades into the darkness. Ryu moves with silent intent, laying down blankets, and then with a tenderness I hadn't seen before, he tucks Nikko in, adjusting the bedding around her small form before sitting by the fire pit he's constructed in the center of the cave. He ignites a flame with a simple motion, casting a warm glow, but his silence gnaws at the air. A shadow seems to settle over him, deeper than the one obscuring his face.

I exchange a look with Talia, her eyes flickering with concern. She quietly sits down beside him, gently placing a hand on his back. "Are you alright?" she asks softly.

He lets out a long breath, the firelight casting a subtle tension in his shoulders. "I'm okay," he says, his voice calm but taut with a quiet anger. "Just... give me a moment."

It's clear he's holding something back, fighting to keep the rising fury from spilling over. I watch as he reaches into his cloak, drawing out a small, worn leather pouch and a pipe. Carefully, he opens the pouch, revealing a pinch of dried herbs I don't recognize, and packs it into the pipe. With a flick of his finger, a tiny flame ignites at the tip, and he takes a deep draw, releasing a steady puff of smoke. The smell is unfamiliar but somehow soothing.

Ryu's gaze lifts, catching mine. "Sit," he says, his tone calmer now. "We're safe here."

I nod, easing myself down across the fire from him. The weariness I've managed to keep at bay threatens to overwhelm me now. I clutch my knees close, trying to control the storm of thoughts swirling inside.

Ryu watches me with a steady gaze, seeming to sense my turmoil. "It's a lot to take in," he says quietly, sympathy threading his tone.

"Easy for you to say," I reply, my voice shaking as I struggle to keep the emotion from spilling over.

Ryu's voice cuts through the quiet, carrying a tone I didn't expect. "I'm sorry," he says, his words catching me off guard. Talia looks just as surprised, her eyes flicking to him with a curious expression.

"Sorry?" I repeat, confused. "For what?"

"For getting you involved in all this," Ryu says, his voice weighted with regret. "I should have known how dangerous it would be."

I take a few steadying breaths, mulling over his words. It's true, this entire ordeal has been overwhelming, and the danger feels like it's closing in. "It's not entirely your fault," I say finally, offering a small, shaky smile. "I could have said no, you know. I chose to come along." My smile falters, and I stare into the flames, the heat warming my cheeks. "Like I said... I'm not much of a fighter, Ryu. Never have been. Exploring ancient ruins, tracing lost histories—that's my passion, not slaying beasts or rescuing people in distress."

Ryu takes a long draw from his pipe, the herbs glowing briefly before he lets out a slow, contemplative puff of smoke. "Yet you didn't hesitate to save Nikko," he says, his words quiet but deliberate.

His comment makes me glance over at him, wondering what he's really thinking beneath that shadowed hood. It's so hard to read him, that darkness obscuring his expression, but his tone is genuine, perhaps even... grateful?

"That was just... instinct, I guess," I admit, feeling a little exposed. "I acted in the heat of the moment. But in the thick of it, I froze. If it weren't for you and Talia showing up, Nikko and I would've been..." I trail off, not wanting to finish the thought. My heart feels heavy just remembering the encounter, the helplessness that overwhelmed me.

Ryu is silent for a beat, drawing again from his pipe before letting out a slow, steady puff of smoke. The silence hangs, until I find myself speaking up, almost without thinking.

"I don't want to make that mistake again," I say, my voice firmer, filled with a determination that surprises even me. "Teach me how to fight."

He raises a hand gently, signaling me to hold on. "Are you sure?" he asks, a hint of concern in his voice. "As you've already seen, we're up against powerful foes. This isn't a small commitment." He pauses, weighing his words. "This is your chance to walk away, Rebecca. I won't stop you. In fact..." He gestures with his free hand. "If you'd rather not continue, I'll take you wherever you want to go. I'll make sure you get there safely."

The thought lingers in my mind, tempting me. Safety, comfort, a life untouched by monstrous cloaked figures and ancient evils. I glance at the fire, the flames dancing hypnotically. Turning back would mean I'd never have to face those horrors again. I wouldn't have to put my life at risk. The silence stretches as I grapple with his offer, Ryu's steady gaze on me as he puffs once more on his pipe.

But even as the thought tempts me, I feel a surge of resolve. "No," I say finally, shaking my head. "It's too late to turn back. I want to help however I can." A wave of anxiety rises within me, a tension that knots my stomach at the thought of what I'm committing to, but it's quickly outweighed by my determination to stand my ground.

Ryu studies me, his head tilting slightly. "You seem hesitant," he says, his perceptiveness startling me. I try to brush it off, but he's already seen through me.

"Of course I'm hesitant," I admit, feeling a flush of heat rise in my cheeks. I glance over at Talia, whose own expression reflects her worry. I can see that she doesn't want this life for me either, doesn't want me thrown into the dangers that seem to haunt Ryu's every step. But I press on. "I want to be able to defend myself, to not freeze up again in a crisis." I take a breath, gathering my courage. "So please, teach me. Like you've taught Nikko."

Ryu considers me in silence, drawing from his pipe once more and letting out a thoughtful puff of smoke. Finally, he nods. "Very well. We'll start tomorrow at sunrise."

I nod gratefully, feeling a sense of relief mixed with apprehension. But there's one more thing. "Also," I add, pointing to Talia's hip where her strange weapon hangs. "I want to learn how to use... that. Whatever it is."

Ryu follows my gesture, his gaze shifting to Talia's holstered weapon. "You mean our blasters?"

I nod. "Yes. I want to learn how to use them, too."

For a moment, he's silent, exchanging a look with Talia. Her expression is filled with concern, as though she's silently urging him to reconsider. But after a pause, he nods. "Very well. You'll join our shooting sessions too." He reaches into his pouch of holding, producing a few strips of dried meat and loaves of bread, handing them to Talia and me. "For now, let's rest and eat," he says, tapping out the burnt herbs from his pipe and stowing it away.

I take the strip of dried meat and begin nibbling on it, the familiar taste grounding me. As I chew, I watch Ryu approach Nikko, who's still curled up asleep in the bed he set up. He crouches down beside her, carefully stirring her awake. Nikko's ears twitch as she blinks sleepily, rubbing her eyes. He hands her a strip of dried meat and a piece of bread, which she accepts, beginning to nibble with a quiet contentment that makes me smile despite the worries that linger.

Ryu returns to the fire, his expression as unreadable as ever, but something in his posture suggests a weight lifted.

Ryu's voice breaks the stillness around the campfire, his tone soft yet carrying a quiet command. "Get some sleep, both of you," he says, looking between Talia and me. "We have a long day ahead of us."

I watch as Talia's expression shifts, a mixture of concern and a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. She crosses her arms, her gaze fixed on him. "And what will you be doing?" she asks, eyebrows raised.

Ryu hesitates, glancing down at the crackling flames before looking back at her. "I'll be monitoring the two kingdoms," he replies, his tone calm but resolute. "And I'll try to come up with our next course of action."

"Ryu," Talia says, her voice laced with worry as she steps closer. "You need to rest too."

He lets out a slight sigh. "I will," he says, though there's a hint of weariness behind his words. "But there's still a lot that needs—"

"No," Talia interrupts him firmly, her tone sharper than before. Her green eyes flash as she looks up at him, unwavering. "You can't keep doing this, Ryu. You don't have to shoulder everything alone."

Ryu stops, her words seeming to hit him harder than he lets on. He lets out a slow, deep breath, shoulders relaxing just a bit as he listens. I watch them both, feeling like an observer in a dance of understanding and care that feels strangely intimate, yet wholly familiar.

"Now," Talia continues, softening her tone but still resolute, "let's all go to sleep. And in the morning, we'll come up with a plan together."

There's a long pause, the tension easing as Ryu nods, almost reluctantly. "You're right," he admits finally, his voice low. He turns his gaze toward me, the darkness of his hood casting an unreadable shadow over his face, yet his tone holds a rare gentleness. "Rebecca... it's not too late for you to reconsider."

He studies me, and I can feel the weight of his words settling over me like a soft, persistent reminder of the path I've chosen. "At least think about it," he adds, his voice calm but carrying an undertone of sincerity that makes my chest tighten.

"Good night, Rebecca," he says, his voice fading as he turns back toward the makeshift bed.

"Good night," I murmur back, though I'm left watching as he and Talia move toward the bedding. Talia casts a quick glance back at me, offering a small, reassuring smile, before slipping under the blanket. Ryu lies down beside her, the tension in his form finally seeming to ease as he rests his head, his movements unhurried, as though savoring the brief respite.

As I watch them, a quietness fills the cave, settling over everything like a gentle blanket. The flickering light from the fire casts warm shadows against the rough stone walls, dancing in time with the crackling embers. Talia murmurs something softly to Ryu, her voice low and gentle, and he nods, the two of them finally relaxing, their breathing slowing.

I lay out my sleeping canvas and lie down, my own mind whirling with the events of the day, with the worry for what lies ahead. The warmth of the fire and the comforting presence of my companions nearby begin to lull me into a fitful sleep, the flickering shadows around us like watchful sentinels standing guard through the night.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

The next morning and after a quick breakfast, Apollo leads me to the back of the speeder, his movements precise and methodical. As he opens the back compartment, I'm greeted by a collection of weapons that I've never seen before, each one seemingly more dangerous and fascinating than the last.

The first thing I notice is a massive weapon that dominates nearly a quarter of the space. It's a heavy piece of equipment, with a cylindrical body that looks like it could unleash a storm of energy. The barrel is thick, with multiple small openings that suggest it could spin, and it seems built to deliver overwhelming firepower. I can only imagine the devastation it could cause in battle—this must be for taking down entire squads, or perhaps something even larger. I can almost hear it humming with restrained energy.

Next, my eyes are drawn to a sleek, long-barreled weapon. It's slender, almost elegant, with a precise, streamlined design that makes it look like it could strike targets from incredible distances. The barrel is longer than any of the other weapons, with a stock that looks adjustable for added comfort and accuracy. It feels like a sharpshooter's weapon, built for precision and deadly accuracy. I imagine it in the hands of a patient, calm marksman, picking off enemies from afar with a single, lethal shot.

Nearby, there's a bulkier weapon that looks like it could be devastating at close range. It has a wide, stubby barrel that seems designed to spread its energy in a wide arc, rather than focusing on a single point. It looks rugged and practical, built for close-quarters combat where precision is less important than sheer stopping power. I can almost feel the concussive force it would generate when fired, scattering enemies like leaves in a storm.

Then I spot something a little more conventional-looking, but still intimidating. This weapon has a solid, dependable design, with a balanced feel that suggests it's built for reliability and ease of use. The body is angular, with a sturdy grip and a barrel that's shorter than the sniper weapon but longer than the blaster with the stubby barrel. It looks like the kind of weapon you'd want in a variety of combat situations—versatile and effective, whether you're facing a single opponent or a group. I can see why someone would trust their life to it.

Nearby, another rifle catches my eye. It's similar in size to the previous one but has a more rugged, almost industrial look to it. The body is heavier, with reinforced plating and a grip that seems designed for rough handling. This one feels like it's made for harsher environments, where reliability under extreme conditions is more important than anything else. I imagine it in the hands of a soldier trudging through a battlefield, its sturdy design withstanding everything thrown at it.

A smaller, more compact rifle sits beside it, with a sleeker design that suggests agility and speed. The body is more streamlined, with fewer protrusions and a smoother finish. It's clearly meant for someone who needs to move quickly, perhaps in urban environments or tight spaces. The design suggests it's made for rapid, controlled bursts of fire, allowing the wielder to take down enemies swiftly before moving on to the next target.

Then I see a pistol that's different from the others. It's compact, but its design is heavy, almost bulky for its size. The grip looks solid, made for someone who needs a reliable sidearm in tight situations. It's less about elegance and more about raw stopping power. I can feel the weight of it just by looking, imagining the punch it must deliver with each shot.

My eyes are then drawn to a weapon that seems to stand out from the rest. It's small, almost unassuming, but there's something about its design that suggests it's far more dangerous than it appears. The body is sleek, with a polished finish and a grip that looks both comfortable and precise. It feels like the kind of weapon someone might keep hidden, only to reveal at the last moment when it's needed most. Its compact design belies its potential for lethality.

Another pistol catches my attention next, this one heavier and more imposing. The grip is thick, with a reinforced design that suggests it's built to handle high-energy blasts. It's a weapon for someone who needs serious firepower in a compact package. The barrel is thicker than the others, hinting at the destructive energy it can unleash. It feels like a sidearm for someone who wants to ensure that their shots count, no matter the situation.

Finally, my gaze settles on two pistols that seem almost identical, save for their grips. One has a taped grip, rough and utilitarian, while the other has a wooden grip, smooth and polished. The design of these pistols is elegant yet deadly, with clean lines and a balanced feel that makes them look like an extension of the user's hand. They're compact but clearly powerful, with a design that suggests they're made for quick draw and precision. I can't help but feel drawn to them, especially the one with the wooden grip. There's something about its design that speaks to me—perhaps it's the blend of practicality and style, or the way it feels like it could be a natural fit in my hand.

Without thinking, I reach out and pick them up, feeling the weight of them in my hands. They're lighter than I expected, but they feel sturdy, like they were made to be used. The balance is perfect, and I can't help but imagine what it would be like to fire them, to feel the recoil and see the energy bolts fly from the barrel.

These... these feel right.

I lift the two pistols, feeling their weight in my hands, my fingers instinctively finding the triggers. Suddenly, Apollo's voice cuts through the air, calm but firm.

"Do not place your fingers on the triggers unless you intend to fire," he says, and I immediately pull my fingers away, a bit embarrassed by the mistake.

"Sorry," I mumble, shifting my grip to hold the pistols more securely without touching the triggers.

"You're taking two?" Talia asks, standing near the speeder with Nikko by her side, her eyebrow raised slightly.

"Is that okay?" I glance over at Ryu, who is sitting cross-legged in a meditative position, his attention clearly elsewhere. He seems lost in his own thoughts, his presence almost otherworldly as he focuses on something I can't quite comprehend.

"I see no reason why not," Talia replies, a small smile on her lips.

"LW-896," Apollo states, his voice mechanical yet precise.

"El Double-you what?" I ask, completely thrown off by the term.

"It's the brand of the weapons you've chosen," Apollo explains. "LW-896. Light and compact, designed for versatility and quick handling. Are these the blasters you wish to use?"

I nod, the pistols feeling almost like an extension of my hands. "These feel right."

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

Apollo nods in acknowledgment and gestures for us to follow him. I carefully holster each blaster into the side pockets of my belt and trail behind him, with Talia and Nikko right behind me. He leads us out of the cave and into a small clearing surrounded by tall trees, their trunks thick and ancient, providing a natural shooting range.

Using his sword, Apollo carves a target into the trunk of one of the trees, the lines sharp and precise. He moves on to two other trees, repeating the process until we have three makeshift targets set up.

"Ready to do some shooting?" Talia asks, drawing her own blaster. It's a sleek, compact weapon with a design that's both elegant and functional. The body is smooth, with a matte finish, and the grip looks like it's been molded perfectly to her hand. It's smaller than the ones I picked, but it has an air of reliability and precision.

Nikko pulls out her own blaster, which is even more compact, almost petite in comparison. Its design is rugged, with a sturdy grip and a shorter barrel, making it look like it's built for quick, close-range shots. Despite its size, there's a certain power to it that I can't ignore.

Apollo stands behind me, positioning himself to guide my first lesson in using these strange new weapons. "Hold your stance firm, feet shoulder-width apart," he instructs, his voice steady. "Align the sights with the target, and remember to control your breathing."

I follow his instructions, adjusting my stance and aiming at the target. My hands feel a bit shaky, but I manage to steady them as I line up the shot.

"When you're ready, gently squeeze the trigger," Apollo says.

I take a deep breath and pull the trigger. A sharp, high-pitched sound cuts through the air as a red bolt of energy streaks from the barrel, illuminating the area around me with a crimson glow. The bolt strikes the tree near the center of the target, leaving a small, smoldering scorch mark on the trunk.

I blink in surprise, the shot startling me more than I expected. Talia and Nikko both look impressed, their eyes wide as they glance at the tree.

"Did I do poorly?" I ask, unsure of what to expect.

Apollo shakes his head. "Not at all. The center of the target is precisely where you want to hit. Aim for it again."

Encouraged, I take another shot, this time more confidently. The red bolt again lights up the area as it flies straight to the target, landing close to my first shot near the center. The tree trunk sizzles where the bolts have struck, smoke curling up from the charred wood.

"Not bad for a first-timer," Apollo remarks.

"Thanks," I reply, a smile tugging at my lips.

Talia and Nikko step up to take their shots. Talia's blue bolt of energy hits the far edge of the target, leaving a faint scorch mark that contrasts sharply with the red of my own shots. Nikko's bolts are red like mine, but they land closer to the center, though not as consistently.

I watch them as they fire, feeling a strange mix of emotions. I'm relieved that I'm doing well, but also curious as to how I'm able to hit the target with such accuracy. Talia glances over at me and scoffs lightly, a sound that's hard to read.

As we continue practicing, I start to feel more comfortable with each shot. The pistols feel more and more like a natural extension of my hands, and soon I'm firing both of them simultaneously, each shot landing dead center on the targets. The red bolts fly in quick succession, and I can't help but marvel at how precise and controlled they are.

Talia watches me, her head tilted slightly, an eyebrow raised in an expression somewhere between curiosity and mild annoyance. "How do you do that?" she asks, her voice edged with a mix of intrigue and... something else.

"Do what?" I ask, lowering the pistols, the barrels still faintly smoking as the sharp scent of scorched wood from the practice targets lingers in the air.

"Shoot so well," Talia says, her eyes narrowing as she studies me. "You've never fired a weapon before—not even a crossbow?"

I shake my head, glancing down at the pistols in my hands, feeling a strange mix of pride and disbelief at my own aim. "No, never," I reply, trying to suppress a smile.

Talia nods slowly, but I catch a glint of something in her expression, a slight tightening around her mouth. There's a hint of jealousy there, masked by her composed demeanor. She crosses her arms, looking at the charred marks on the target I just hit.

Meanwhile, Nikko practically bounces with excitement beside me, her ears twitching eagerly. "You're a very good shooter, Rebecca!" she says, her eyes wide with admiration, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm.

I smile warmly at her, the pride in her innocent, joyful gaze infectious. "Thank you, Nikko," I say, feeling a surprising warmth in my chest. Her enthusiasm feels like a little beacon of light, cutting through the tension that lingers in the air between Talia and me.

Talia uncrosses her arms, sighing slightly as she gives me a half-smile, almost as if to brush away her own reaction. "Guess you just have a natural talent," she mutters, though I can tell she's trying to be genuine.

I shrug, a slight blush creeping up as I glance back at the targets, unable to believe my own luck—or skill, if that's what it is. "Maybe... beginner's luck?"

Nikko giggles and claps her hands. "I don't think it's just luck," she insists, her voice cheerful. "I think you're just a really good shooter, Rebecca!"

Talia gives a light chuckle, finally shaking off her own reservations. "Well, let's hope that luck of yours holds," she says with a playful smirk, though the edge of competition still lingers in her eyes.

Apollo then steps in to teach me about proper weapon maintenance, going over how to take apart the blasters, clean them, and keep them in top condition. I listen carefully, absorbing the information, even if I don't completely understand everything. It's clear that there's more to these weapons than meets the eye.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

Once the lesson is concluded, we all return to the cave. The sun has started to set, casting long shadows across the rocky landscape. As we step inside, I see Ryu has set up a makeshift worktable out of stones and planks. On it lies the body of DP-7, disassembled, with its parts scattered around the table. Open beside it is a book filled with notes and detailed drawings of what looks like DP-7, with annotations surrounding the sketches.

In the center of the table is a metal frame that matches the drawing in the book, and beside it are various tools. Ryu is using one of the tools—a small device that emits sparks when it touches metal—to work on the frame. The air smells of burning metal as sparks fly, and I can't help but feel a sense of awe at his skill.

Curious, I approach him. "How'd it go?" Ryu asks, his focus still on the mechanical body in front of him.

"She's a natural," Talia answers before I can speak. I glance over at her, noticing a hint of something in her tone—jealousy, perhaps—but I decide not to pry.

"Is she now?" Ryu asks, his tone distracted as he points to my satchel by the sleeping canvas. "Those are for you," he says, gesturing to a belt with two sheaths sewn into it that perfectly fit my blasters.

"Thank you," I say, genuinely grateful, as I walk over to retrieve the belt and fasten it around my waist. The blasters slide into the sheaths effortlessly, and the whole setup feels just right.

Nikko is now standing beside Ryu, watching him work with a curious expression. "Can DP-7 be fixed?" she asks, her voice tinged with concern.

Ryu shakes his head, letting out a heavy sigh. "His processors are fried. All I can do is strip it for spare parts."

Nikko's ears droop slightly, and her tail stops swishing. She looks down, clearly saddened by the news.

"But," Ryu continues, "I have enough parts to build a new droid using DP-7's components. It won't be exactly DP-7, but it will be similar."

Nikko brightens up a little, her tail swishing again, but there's still a hint of sadness in her eyes.

Talia, standing behind us with her arms crossed, asks, "What about our next course of action?" Her voice is steady, but I can sense the determination behind it.

Ryu puts down the tool he was using and lets out a heavy sigh. He turns to us and gestures for everyone to follow him. We move towards the fireplace, and with a simple point of his finger, Ryu reignites the fire. The warm glow fills the cave, casting flickering shadows on the walls as we all sit around it.

Ryu messes with his glove, and suddenly, a detailed image of the elven capital appears, hovering above us like a projection. The city is massive, sprawling out in all directions with an ethereal beauty that takes my breath away. From this bird's-eye view, I can see the city's elegant architecture, a blend of towering spires and graceful arches, all intricately designed with a touch of the natural world woven into every structure.

The buildings are arranged in a circular pattern, radiating outwards from a central point where an enormous tree stands. Its vast branches stretch high into the sky, its leaves shimmering with a golden hue as they catch the last light of the setting sun. The tree itself seems to be part of the city, its roots intertwining with the foundations of the castle that surrounds it. The castle, built directly into the tree, is a marvel of elven craftsmanship, with its turrets and towers seamlessly integrated into the living wood.

The city is a perfect blend of nature and civilization, with cascading waterfalls, hanging gardens, and pathways that wind through lush greenery. It feels ancient and wise, a place where time moves differently, where every stone and leaf holds a story of its own. The sight of it fills me with both awe and a deep sense of urgency.

I watch as Ryu manipulates the image projected by his glove, the view zooming in closer to Inyeth Themar, the breathtaking elven capital, until it halts before what seems to be a large, weathered flyer board. My eyes scan the various notices, but then they land on something that sends a chill down my spine—wanted posters. Six of them, each showing detailed, drawn images of Ryu, Talia, Nikko, Apollo, IG-22, and... me. My heart skips a beat as I stare at my own face on the poster, the words "Wanted: Dead or Alive" emblazoned across the top with a staggering bounty of 2,000 gold coins beneath. It feels surreal, almost like I'm looking at someone else.

"Wait..." I stammer, barely able to find my voice. "Why am I wanted?"

Ryu doesn't turn, his eyes still fixed on the glowing image. "The Shadowfell, of course," he says, his tone controlled but carrying an unmistakable weight. "With its followers so widespread, it was only a matter of time before you and IG-22 were added to the bounty list." He sighs, glancing my way. "This is their way of tightening their grip, making sure we have nowhere to hide."

My mind races as I try to make sense of it all. "But... I've only just... I mean, I'm not..." The realization hits me like a punch. "I didn't even do anything!" My voice rises in pitch, a tremor of anger and fear slipping in.

Ryu's face remains calm, shadowed as always, his tone firm yet steady. "You're with us. That's enough reason for them," he says, his words quiet yet somehow chilling. "It doesn't matter to them whether you chose this willingly or not. As long as you're involved, you're a target."

My heart hammers as I stare at my own likeness on the screen, the implications settling in like a weight pressing down on my chest. "So that's it, then?" I say, my voice barely a whisper. "I'm just... marked?" I swallow, my mouth dry. "A bounty like that... people are going to come after me. I'll be hunted. I... I'm not a fighter like you or Talia."

Ryu turns to me, and though his expression is hidden, his presence feels steadying. "We'll protect you," he says firmly. "And I'm going to train you, remember? You won't be alone."

"But that's just it," I murmur, fear gnawing at me. "I never signed up for this... this whole Shadowfell, dark magic, and bounty thing. I just wanted to explore, not... not survive on the run." The idea of constant pursuit, danger lurking around every corner, makes my skin crawl. "I didn't expect to be wanted for... for nothing."

Talia steps closer, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder. "Rebecca," she says softly, her voice a blend of understanding and resolve. "I know you didn't ask for this. None of us did, really. But you're stronger than you realize. You already proved that with Nikko."

Nikko, who had been watching silently, takes my hand, her small fingers gripping mine tightly. "I'm glad you're here, Rebecca," she says, her gaze earnest. "You saved me." Her words, innocent yet filled with gratitude, make something in me soften. Her tiny, comforting presence grounds me, even amid all this chaos.

I take a deep breath, squeezing Nikko's hand. "It's just... a lot to take in," I murmur, my gaze falling to the swirling image of Inyeth Themar, the wanted posters hovering over us like dark omens.

Ryu nods, a shadow of sympathy in his voice. "Believe me, I understand. But the Shadowfell has set its sights on all of us, and anyone connected to us. That's their tactic—fear, division, mistrust. But as long as we stay together, they won't break us."

I nod slowly, the initial panic beginning to ease as I hold onto his words. There's a certain strength in his tone, a quiet determination that's infectious, even comforting.

Ryu's projection hangs in the dim cave, casting a ghostly glow on his shrouded face as he speaks. "I've been observing Inyeth Themar all night and the last couple of days," he says, his tone laced with gravity.

Talia crosses her arms, shooting him a pointed glare. "Did you even sleep?"

Ryu raises a hand, a faint chuckle in his voice as he reassures her, "I got some sleep, I swear."

A chuckle escapes my lips, a small relief amid the tension, and I catch the hint of a smirk on Talia's face before Ryu clears his throat, refocusing on the projection. "Barely any activity near the castle. Lord Y'msari was right. People have been turned away from the gates all the time. This isolation isn't just rumor."

Talia's brow furrows, the worry in her voice evident. "Do you think King Alduin is under the Shadowfell's influence?"

Ryu sighs, gaze fixed on the projection. "I don't know. But that's not the worst of it."

With a swift motion, he shifts the view outward, zooming across the lush, sprawling landscape of Eldoria, only to settle on a dark, moving line that makes my stomach drop. Slowly, the projection focuses, revealing a massive Eldorian army stretching as far as the eye can see, ranks upon ranks of soldiers marching in perfect formation. My breath catches, awe and fear mingling as the sheer scale of it sinks in.

The soldiers look imposing, each clad in dark, polished armor that gleams under the faint morning sun. Rows of infantrymen advance, their shields interlocked to form an unbreakable wall of metal, while archers march behind, their quivers brimming with arrows faintly glowing with enchanted energy. Behind them, in eerie synchronization, march mages dressed in dark green robes, hands crackling with elemental magic as they fall into line with the troops. Towering siege engines rumble across the ground—massive catapults, reinforced battering rams, their iron and wooden frames designed to bring cities to ruin. Even through the projection, I can almost feel the ground trembling beneath their weight.

Talia's voice breaks the heavy silence, a tremor of disbelief coloring her tone. "That must be thousands of soldiers..."

Ryu's voice, solemn and steady, replies, "Tens of thousands. And they'll reach Inyeth Themar in four days."

A knot tightens in my stomach, dread pulsing through me as I take in the sheer enormity of the threat. Nikko, who has been quietly observing, instinctively curls closer to Ryu, her small hands gripping his arm, seeking the protection and comfort only he can offer.

"Shouldn't Inyeth Themar's forces already know?" Talia asks, urgency lacing her words. "The city needs to be evacuated. They have to be ready."

Ryu's face, concealed in shadow, tilts toward her, his tone laden with concern. "And yet, they aren't. The walls are sparsely manned. Most of the city's defenses seem concentrated in the heart—the tree."

With a gesture, the image shifts once more, centering on the ancient, towering tree that dominates Inyeth Themar. Its colossal branches stretch toward the heavens, laden with silvery-green leaves, and now, amid the branches, I catch sight of elven soldiers—gleaming silver armor catching glimpses of light as they move in seamless unity across the vast limbs of the tree, preparing for battle. Yet, the sight only serves to heighten the anxiety pressing down on us. They're woefully outnumbered, and the realization that the tree, the heart of the elven capital, might serve as their final line of defense chills me to the bone.

"If we don't stop this," Ryu says, his voice hardening with grim determination, "the city doesn't stand a chance."

A tight, almost pained look crosses Talia's face as she glances at him. "How in the world can we possibly stop tens of thousands of soldiers from destroying the capital?"

Ryu's head tilts toward her, his tone steady but unreadable. "I have a plan."

The image zooms back to the marching Eldorian army, honing in on a figure at its center—a man on horseback whose very presence commands attention. His armor, adorned with gold trim and intricate engravings, shines brighter than the others, a clear mark of his rank. His face, though partially hidden beneath his helmet, reveals strong, steely features, a thick beard framing a mouth set in a hard line, and eyes that exude both power and ruthless ambition.

Talia's voice drops to a whisper, thick with reverence and fear. "That's King Bjorn. The king of Eldoria... he's leading the charge?"

"I doubt it," Ryu replies, his voice cold. "He's likely here to witness the fall of Inyeth Themar himself." A pause, and then he adds with chilling calm, "Which is a good thing. It means we can capture him."

The surprise in Talia's voice is palpable. "Your plan... is to kidnap the king of Eldoria?"

"And the king of Elaria," Ryu adds, as if it were the simplest solution in the world.

Talia's shock shifts to a look of incredulity, her brows shooting up. "You're insane," she mutters, though I can see the wheels turning in her mind. "But... if anyone could do it, I suppose it's you."

I stare at her, astonished that she's even entertaining the idea, yet a part of me finds itself drawn to the audacious plan. It seems impossible—ludicrous, even.

I gape at Ryu, the weight of his plan settling over me like a dark cloud. My pulse quickens, and a rush of adrenaline sharpens the edges of my nerves. "Are you insane?" I blurt out, my voice louder than I intend. The words tumble out, rapid and incredulous. "You intend to not only kidnap one king, but two? One hiding in his palace—practically a fortress—and the other surrounded by an entire army?"

Ryu opens his mouth, but I cut him off, the disbelief in my voice rising. "How can you talk about kidnapping two heavily guarded kings like it's a stroll through the woods?" My heart is pounding, and I feel the burn of frustration in my throat. "That's suicide!"

"Rebecca," Ryu says, his tone steady but firmer, his voice edging into a warning. Still, the shock and dread claw at my chest, and it takes a moment to steady my breath, each exhale barely taming the adrenaline racing through me.

He holds my gaze, his voice calm but resolute. "I have a plan."

I glance at Talia, hoping for some reassurance, or perhaps a similar sense of exasperation. "How do you put up with him?" I ask, unable to keep a touch of desperation from creeping into my tone.

A small smile tugs at Talia's lips, softening her expression despite the gravity of the situation. "Oh, I learned quickly that Ryu does things... his way," she says, her tone teasing, though there's a trace of fond exasperation in her voice. She lets out a slight chuckle. "You should see him when he's truly determined to do something. Stubborn as a mule."

Her light tone eases some of the tension, and I manage a faint smile, though the doubts still linger. Ryu, however, remains focused, his composure unshaken by my outburst or Talia's teasing.

"Look," he says, his tone firm but steady, "I don't expect any of you to take part in this lightly. I'm fully aware of the risks. But if we do nothing, the Shadowfell's influence will tear both kingdoms apart. We're running out of options."

His words hang in the air, resonating with a grim truth that settles heavily in my chest.

"So what's the plan?" Talia asks, her voice steadying as she prepares herself for whatever madness Ryu has concocted.

"Talia and I will infiltrate the elven palace tree," Ryu explains, his voice calm and assured. "While IG-22 and Apollo take Bjorn."

"And what will I do?" Nikko asks, her voice small but determined, looking up at Ryu with a mixture of hope and worry.

"You, Nikko, will keep this place safe for our return," Ryu says, patting her gently on the head.

"But I want to come with you," Nikko protests, her disappointment clear as her ears droop slightly.

"But I need you here, Nikko," Ryu continues, his tone gentle but firm. "You have the most important job of all—protecting this cave for when we return. There's no one else I trust with that task."

"Really?" Nikko's eyes brighten, her tail swishing back and forth with renewed energy, a mix of excitement and pride evident in her demeanor.

"And me?" I ask, my voice tinged with concern.

"You will be assisting Nikko, of course," Ryu replies, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

I nod, but as I glance over at him, I know what he really means—I'll be the one looking after Nikko while they're out there risking their lives. My heart tightens at the thought, but I nod again, doing my best to appear confident.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

As the plan settles in, my mind starts racing with a thousand thoughts. My gaze shifts to Nikko, who's now bouncing on her toes with excitement, completely trusting in her father's words. She's so young, so full of life, and here she is, ready to protect a cave while the rest of us go off to face gods know what. Then I look over at Talia, who stands strong and determined, her posture unwavering despite the chaos surrounding us. She's so sure, so capable—qualities I've always admired but never felt in myself.

And then there's Ryu, sitting there with that calm determination, even as he shoulders the burden of leading us through this madness. What if we fail? The thought gnaws at me, and my shoulders tense with the weight of the situation. What if those cloaked figures attack us again while we're left here waiting? The memory of those glowing yellow eyes, the fear that gripped me during the ambush, all of it comes rushing back, making my heart race. How am I supposed to protect Nikko if it comes to that?

It's all so much to take in, and I can feel the knot of anxiety tightening in my chest. But I can't show it—I can't let them see just how terrified I am. So I nod once more, trying to push the doubts aside, even as they continue to swirl in my mind.

I take a shaky breath as I watch Ryu observing both sides from that strange projection on his glove. He glances over at me, his gaze direct. "I believe it's high time you learn how to fight," he says, making my stomach twist with nervousness. He calls Apollo over, and I can feel my anxiety spike as Apollo steps forward with a small nod, his tall frame and composed stance making me feel even smaller by comparison. "Apollo will teach you the basics," Ryu continues. "And Nikko, why don't you help her out?"

"Really?" Nikko's eyes light up, and she bounces with excitement. It's comforting to see her so enthusiastic, even if it makes me feel slightly nervous.

Apollo leads us over to a makeshift training area he set up by the trees, where a wooden dummy stands with a worn chest plate strapped around its torso. "We will begin with the basics," Apollo says in his smooth, steady voice. His calmness is both reassuring and unnerving, like I'm about to undertake something far more intense than I realize.

I start clumsily, gripping the knife with fingers that feel stiff and awkward, trying to mimic Apollo's stance as he demonstrates. I can't seem to balance my weight correctly, and my first attempts to strike the dummy are more embarrassing than I'd like to admit. The knife barely scratches the surface, and I'm painfully aware of how Apollo and Nikko are watching me, though neither of them look judgmental.

Apollo takes a step forward, adjusting my grip and gently repositioning my feet. "Remember, balance is essential," he instructs. "Find your center and stay grounded. Do not lean too far into the strike."

It takes several tries, and even more instruction from Apollo, for me to feel even remotely comfortable. Nikko, on the other hand, moves with a nimbleness and precision that I can only dream of. When it's her turn to spar with me, she seems almost gleeful, darting in and out with swift movements. Each time I think I'm close to getting a hit, she slips right past me and taps me with the flat side of her knife, her tail flicking with excitement. Her movements make mine look like I'm trudging through mud, and after a few rounds, my frustration starts to mount.

"Don't worry, you're getting better," Nikko says with a grin, her cheerfulness somehow both encouraging and slightly maddening. "Just keep practicing!"

And I do. I focus on Apollo's guidance, trying to remember each adjustment he gives me: keep my stance low, don't overextend, use my wrist more, and stay light on my feet. I still don't manage to beat Nikko, but I find myself growing a little more confident. My strikes become less clumsy, my balance more stable. I begin to feel a slight sense of control, like the knife is becoming an extension of my hand rather than a foreign object. It's a small victory, but it's something.

Hours pass in this strange rhythm—training, a break, then back to training again. Nikko remains patient and supportive, and Apollo's quiet nods of approval encourage me to keep going. I can feel a slight thrill when my strikes actually land with a solid thud against the dummy. It's a small feeling of accomplishment, but one that settles some of the turmoil inside me.

Eventually, there's nothing left to do but wait. Ryu continues his observation, Talia joins me in a game of cards, and I sit back, taking in the quiet moments. As I shuffle the deck, my mind drifts back to the training session. I'm still no fighter, not yet, but a spark of confidence has settled within me, fragile yet steady.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

We prepare for the night, the tension still thick in the air. Ryu, Talia, and Nikko share the same bed as they've done every night since we began traveling together. I unroll my sleeping canvas close to them, seeking the comfort of their presence even if I don't share the same bed. As I lay down, my mind races, replaying everything that has happened and everything that might come. The warmth of the fire flickers across the cave walls, but it does little to ease the cold knot of fear that's settled in my stomach.

I lie awake, staring at the jagged ceiling of the cave. Night has fully fallen, and the flickering lights of the dying fire cast shadows that dance across the stone. I can hear the soft, rhythmic breathing of Ryu and Talia, and Nikko's gentle purring mixed in. Turning my head slightly, I glance over at them, all nestled together in the dim glow of the fire. Talia is curled up against Ryu's left side, her head resting on his chest with his arm wrapped protectively around her. On his right, Nikko is snuggled up close, her small frame curled up against his other arm.

How can they be sleeping so soundly? I wonder. Aren't they just as worried, if not more worried than I am? My mind races with questions and doubts, making it impossible to find any rest.

Carefully, I slip out from under my blanket and make my way to the cave entrance. Reaching into my pack, I retrieve my flask, its cool metal comforting against my hand. I carefully pull the cork, and the popping sound seems to echo far louder in my head than it actually is. I glance back nervously, but they're all still asleep, undisturbed.

Lifting the flask to my lips, I take a deep sip, feeling the warmth of the alcohol as it burns its way down my throat. It's a small comfort in this unsettling night. I scan the darkness around me, half expecting IG-22 to appear out of nowhere, but there's no sign of him. Same with Apollo. I feel a pang of sadness—who would have thought I'd miss that golem scaring me?

I chuckle softly at the thought, but the sound dies in my throat as I hear a voice beside me. "Can't sleep, huh?" Ryu's voice is calm, almost soothing, but it startles me, and I turn quickly to see him standing right next to me.

"I'm sorry," he says, a hint of regret in his tone. "I didn't mean to startle you."

I glance back at the bedroll, surprised to see Nikko and Talia still fast asleep. "How did you get here without waking them?" I ask, still puzzled.

"Moving still and carefully is a trait of mine," Ryu says in a sly tone as he pulls out a pipe from a pocket in his cloak. The pipe is crafted from dark wood, smooth and polished with intricate carvings of what looks like swirling wind patterns along its stem. The bowl is deep, and it looks like it has seen many years of use.

From a small leather pouch, he retrieves a few pinches of green, ground-up herbs. They have a strong, earthy scent that I can pick up even from where I'm standing. He packs the bowl carefully, then ignites it with a small flame that flickers from the tip of his finger. He takes a slow draw from the pipe, letting out a stream of smoke that drifts lazily into the night air.

"It's okay to be nervous," he says, his voice gentle but knowing.

I look at him, puzzled. "How did you...?" I start to ask, but he cuts me off with a soft chuckle.

He takes another slow draw from his pipe, the glow casting a fleeting light across his shadowed face, though the shroud of his hood keeps his expression unreadable. "My first real fight, I was nervous too," he says, his tone almost casual, as if recalling an old friend. "Not those horrible training droids I had to practice with. I was seven."

The word catches my attention. "Droids?" I ask, my eyebrows raised in curiosity. "What are droids?"

Ryu turns to me, tilting his head slightly. "I never told you?" he asks, a trace of surprise in his voice.

I shake my head.

He chuckles softly. "I'm sorry. IG-22, for example—he's a droid."

"Oh." I let that sink in, nodding slowly. "That makes sense now. So, these droids—they're... what exactly?"

"They're machines, created to serve various purposes. Some are programmed to fight, others to assist. IG-22 was programmed for combat, designed to be precise and lethal." He pauses, taking another puff from his pipe. "And DP-7? Also a droid," he says, a faint note of nostalgia in his tone.

I blink, the realization settling in. "So, they're like... metal beings, but with specific tasks? A metal warrior, in IG-22's case?"

"Precisely," he replies, a slight nod affirming my understanding. "IG-22 was built for efficiency. Cold and calculating. But in some strange way, they have their quirks too." He glances over at the cave entrance as if expecting to see IG-22 silently standing guard.

"And these training droids you mentioned?" I ask, my curiosity piqued further. "Were they like IG-22?"

Ryu's voice takes on a more reflective tone, his hand tapping lightly on the pipe's edge. "Not quite. They weren't as advanced, and they were painfully repetitive. But they did what they were made to do—drill techniques, condition reflexes." He takes another puff, the ember glowing briefly before fading. "They prepared me for a real fight. Or at least, they tried to."

I feel a strange comfort hearing this, imagining a young Ryu, barely older than Nikko, fighting off strange metal opponents. "Seven, though?" I say, the disbelief apparent in my tone. "That's so young."

Ryu gives a small nod, though his posture remains steady. "It was necessary, given my... upbringing."

I listen, taking another sip from my flask before offering it to him. He declines with a polite hand gesture, so I tuck it back away, focusing on his words.

"I had to fight this guy three times my size," Ryu continues, a hint of bitterness in his tone.

"Why?" I ask.

"Because I was forced to."

His words hang in the air, and I want to ask more, to delve into that part of his past, but I hold back, sensing that he doesn't want to linger on it. Instead, I nod and listen.

"I was so terrified," he says, his voice softening. "But my mentor gave me some good advice. Fear is a natural response—it's your body's way of preparing you for what's ahead. It's okay to be afraid. What matters is how you handle that fear."

His words resonate deeply with me, echoing in my mind as I try to process them. "Aren't you afraid?" I ask, the question slipping out before I can stop it.

Ryu looks up at the sky, which is a vast expanse of stars tonight. The moon is bright, casting a silver light over everything, making the world seem both more beautiful and more ominous. He lets out a long breath, smoke curling from the shadowy void as he speaks. "Always," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

He taps the end of his pipe against the back of his hand, dislodging the ashes, which fall in a soft cloud at his feet. Then he puts the pipe away, turning back to me. "I wish you a good night."

As he starts to leave, I find myself asking, "How did the fight go?"

Ryu pauses, then glances back at me, his expression unreadable. "I lost," he says quietly, the admission carrying a weight of its own. "But I learned from it. That's what really mattered."

He then turns and makes his way back to the bedroll. I watch as he carefully lies down, and almost immediately, Talia and Nikko cuddle up to him as if they never noticed he was gone. I'm left standing there, my flask now empty, with only my thoughts for company.

Ryu's words keep turning over in my mind. The idea that even he—strong, capable Ryu—is afraid somehow makes me feel a little better. But it also makes the reality of what we're facing that much more daunting. I gaze up at the stars, wondering what the next day will bring, and whether I'll be able to find the strength I need to face it.