CHAPTER 9 : KAELEN'S COMPROMISE
391 Words
As Elara and Lysander discussed escape routes, a new sound cut through the forest: the heavy, measured tread of trained soldiers. Sir Kaelen’s hunt was relentless.
"They're tracking the scent of corruption," Lysander hissed, scrambling to cover his cart with branches. "The stain you left on Kaelen's armor is like a beacon to the Guard's trackers."
Elara pulled on her gloves, her terror renewed. She couldn't risk contaminating Lysander’s hiding spot. "I'll draw them away. I can run faster than you can hide that cart."
Before Lysander could argue, she plunged deeper into the denser thicket, deliberately brushing a bare hand against a flowering vine. The vine withered into black ribbons instantly, leaving a distinct, fresh sign of her passing.
She hadn’t run far before she heard a shout: "There! She's cutting toward the river! Split and flank!"
She pushed through a wall of ivy and stumbled onto a small clearing, only to find Sir Kaelen waiting. He was alone, his sword sheathed, but his movements were stiff. His right gauntlet was gone, replaced by thick, crude bandages wrapped around his hand and forearm, soaked with a dark, medicinal salve.
"Stop, Shadow Touch," Kaelen commanded, his voice tight with pain. "Running will only confirm your guilt."
"My guilt is your corruption, Lieutenant!" Elara countered, her voice shaking. "You saw what I did! I didn't want to hurt you!"
Kaelen ignored the hysteria in her voice. He stepped closer, his gaze intense. "The rot on my armor… it isn't spreading. But my hand is dead to the touch. I feel nothing." He stopped a few feet away. "I spoke with Torius. He says you are a blight, a danger to the Harvest, and must be taken to the College for purification."
"Torius is lying!" Elara cried. "He and the Alchemists want to kill me and use my curse for some 'Elixir'! They used you to flush me out!"
Kaelen hesitated. His duty was sacred, but the speed and precision of his own injury—and the suspicious focus of Torius on her surrender—conflicted with the simple idea of a random plague.
"If you are telling the truth," Kaelen challenged, "why did the Maester insist I burn my contaminated armor immediately? Why did he send me after you alone?"
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