Echoes of Hope
296 Words
The battlefield was a haunting landscape of shattered stone and smoldering earth. The air hung heavy with the scent of smoke and sweat, mingling with the faintest trace of something softer—hope.
Ariah sank to one knee near the edge of the Watchtower ruins, her lantern dim but still glowing faintly. Her body ached from the fight, but her spirit held steady, buoyed by the flicker of light within.
Around her, the companions gathered, faces marked by exhaustion and pain, yet lit with a quiet determination.
Mira crouched beside her, cleaning a bloodied arrow with deliberate care. “We held the line,” she said softly. “But the cost was high.”
Rael rested his sword against the crumbling wall, his gaze distant. “He’s stronger than we thought. The Shadow King… he’s not just a tyrant. There’s something more driving him.”
Jalen nodded, pulling out the map again. “We can’t afford to wait for his next move. We need to strike—hit where it hurts before he regroups.”
Ariah’s fingers traced the worn wood of the cross she still clutched tightly. The flame inside the lantern flickered—fragile but unyielding.
“We fight not just to survive,” she said, voice steady though soft, “but to restore. To bring light back to a world desperate for it.”
Her companions looked to her, a shared fire rekindling in their eyes.
In the stillness between battles, the echoes of hope grew louder—quiet at first, like distant songbirds, but rising to a chorus that refused to be silenced.
The war was far from over.
But so long as even one flame burned, there was a chance.
And Ariah would be the light that refused to go out.
- Writer
