Episode 5:Blood in the Roots
1321 Words
The rain did not stop when Kael fell.
It pelted down in silver sheets, soaking the mossy earth beneath the Moonroot’s sprawling boughs. The sacred tree’s roots gleamed slick under the storm’s fury, its pale blossoms quivering in the wind.
Zherina’s hands found him instantly.
“Kael—” Her voice cracked, her fingers trembling as she pressed them to his chest. The arrow’s shaft jutted out just beneath his collarbone, the iron head buried deep in muscle. Blood seeped warm over her palms, sticky and red against her green skin.
Kael’s breath came in ragged gasps. “Don’t—” He winced as a fresh wave of pain stole his voice. “Don’t let them… take me.”
“They won’t,” she swore, her eyes flashing to the shadows between the roots where movement flickered—her kin, cloaked in the gloom, their bows drawn.
“Zherina of the Thornspire,” one of them called, voice sharp over the wind. “Step away from the human.”
It was Branth, her cousin. His bowstring was taut, the tip of his arrow glistening with rain. Behind him, at least a dozen goblins stood ready, their eyes reflecting green fire in the Moonroot’s glow.
“You shot him!” Zherina’s voice rose, trembling with rage. “You dare spill blood under the Moonroot?”
“He is a trespasser. A human. You know the Covenant—”
“I know the Covenant better than you ever will,” she snapped, rising to her feet, placing herself between Kael and their arrows. “And I know it does not give you the right to murder one who seeks sanctuary.”
Branth’s lip curled. “He is no petitioner. He is bait. Do you think we don’t see the truth? The humans gather in the valley even now. He led them here.”
Zherina’s heart stumbled in her chest. “That’s a lie.” But a seed of fear took root inside her. Had Kael known? Had his arrival not been chance?
Kael tried to speak, but the pain was too much. His eyes found hers—pleading, desperate—and she felt the truth in his gaze. Whatever else was happening, he had not come here to betray her.
She drew her dagger in one swift motion, its curved blade catching the Moonroot’s pale light. “You’ll have to strike me first.”
The goblins shifted, uneasy. Branth’s expression hardened. “If you protect him, you betray your blood.”
Zherina’s grip tightened on the dagger. “If I let you kill him, I betray myself.”
Lightning split the sky, and in that instant, a low horn sounded from the valley below—three deep, rolling notes that made Zherina’s stomach knot.
The humans had arrived.
Kael’s weight was heavy as she half-lifted, half-dragged him deeper among the Moonroot’s tangled roots. She could hear Branth’s voice barking orders, the answering shuffle of goblin feet, and beyond that—the metallic clamor of armored men climbing the slope.
“You have to leave me,” Kael rasped.
She ignored him.
“Zherina—” He gritted his teeth as she pulled him into the hollow beneath a massive root, the space barely wide enough for them both. “You can’t fight them all.”
“Watch me.”
Her hands moved quickly, breaking the arrow’s shaft, then pressing a strip of her cloak tight against the wound. Kael gasped but did not cry out. She whispered a charm under her breath, words that shimmered faintly in the air before sinking into his skin.
It would not heal him—not fully—but it would slow the bleeding.
Outside, the voices drew nearer. The goblins were not attacking the humans… yet. Instead, there was an uneasy exchange—shouts in the human tongue, sharp replies in goblin speech. Zherina strained to hear, but the rain blurred the words.
Then, a phrase in the common tongue rang clear:
“We only want the man.”
Her stomach turned to ice.
Kael’s eyes widened. “They—”
“Quiet,” she whispered, covering his mouth.
But the decision was already made in her mind. If the goblins and humans were speaking instead of fighting, it meant they were considering a trade. And Branth… Branth hated her enough to offer it.
The sound of footsteps splashing through puddles grew closer. Torchlight flickered between the roots.
She rose, heart pounding, her dagger still in hand.
Branth stepped into view, flanked by two goblin guards. His smile was cold. “They want him. In exchange, they will leave our borders untouched.”
“And you believe them?” she hissed.
“I believe it is better to lose one trespasser than see our people slaughtered. The choice is simple.”
Zherina shook her head. “You’d damn the Covenant for this? You’d stain the Moonroot with such treachery?”
Branth’s smile widened. “You speak as if you haven’t already.”
The guards moved forward, spears leveled.
Kael tried to stand, but his legs buckled. Zherina stepped in front of him again, blade raised. “You will not touch him.”
“Then you’ll die with him.”
Branth lunged.
The fight was fast and brutal. Rain slicked her grip, but rage steadied her hand. She ducked under Branth’s first strike, slashing at his side. The guards pressed in, and for a moment, she thought she could not hold them off.
Then—chaos.
A human arrow whistled through the air, striking one guard in the throat. Branth swore, spinning toward the source, but another arrow followed, this one embedding itself in the root above his head.
Zherina’s breath caught.
The humans were attacking. Not trading. Attacking.
Branth’s face twisted with fury. “This is your doing.”
And then the world dissolved into noise—shouts, steel on steel, the Moonroot’s roots shuddering under the clash of goblin and human. Zherina seized the moment, pulling Kael to his feet.
They ran.
They did not make it far.
The battle raged around them, the storm making it impossible to tell friend from foe in the blur of shadows and torchlight. Zherina spotted an opening—a narrow tunnel of roots leading down the slope—and shoved Kael toward it.
He stumbled through. She followed—only for a massive shadow to block the exit.
A human soldier. His armor was dented, his sword slick with goblin blood. His eyes widened at the sight of Kael.
“There you are,” he said.
Kael froze. “Captain Veyran.”
The soldier’s smile was like a wolf’s. “You’ve caused us a great deal of trouble, boy. But the king will be pleased.”
Zherina stepped between them, dagger raised. “He’s not going anywhere with you.”
Veyran’s gaze slid to her, and his lip curled. “A goblin witch. How quaint.”
He lunged.
The scene fractured into violence—Veyran’s sword flashing, Zherina twisting aside, Kael trying to help but collapsing again. She slashed at Veyran’s arm, drawing blood, but he only laughed.
Then he feinted left and struck right.
Her dagger spun from her hand.
He grabbed her by the throat, slamming her against the root wall. “You’ll watch him hang,” he snarled.
Kael, with a desperate shout, drove the broken arrow shaft still in his shoulder into Veyran’s side. The captain roared, staggering back.
Zherina didn’t think. She grabbed Kael, pulling him past Veyran toward the tunnel exit.
They broke into the open air, the valley stretching before them—and froze.
At least fifty torches burned in the darkness below. An entire army waited at the base of the slope.
Kael’s voice was hoarse. “Zherina… we can’t outrun them.”
And behind them, Branth’s voice rose in a ragged scream:
“Take them both!”
To be continued…
- Writer
