BAMBI

Echoes of the Fallen

Bambi awoke to the distant rumble of thunder, the first drops of rain tapping the broken stones overhead. The sealed Carmine Heart room lay quiet now, its runes dim, the crystal hidden behind stone and magic. Yet even in the stillness, she felt its weight in her bones, like a promise and a warning.

Calder slept fitfully in his alcove, murmuring in pain. Samson sat nearby, staring at the rising storm outside the cracked window, fingers tracing the faded carvings. Elena was nowhere in sight. It was just them, the Guardian, the historian, the wounded hunter caught in the fragile calm between storms.

Bambi pushed aside the ragged blanket and stepped into the cold corridor, boots echoing across damp stones. Her heart was a drumbeat of doubts and fears.

He said Guardian.

She repeated it softly, almost to test the word against her will.

She found Samson in the hall where statues flanked both sides, worn faces staring blindly into darkness.

“Are you awake?” she asked.

He nodded, looking tired. “Couldn’t sleep.”

She glanced at him sideways. “Do you think the watchers see us now?”

He paused. “If they ever stopped, they wouldn’t be watchers. But yes, I think they sense something. They’re waiting for a misstep.”

She frowned. “A misstep. Like what?”

He eyed her for a moment. “Trusting too easily. Thinking seals it changes what the Heart is. It’s not just about closing a door. The Heart draws. It tests. And sometimes, the test is from within.”

Her blood froze. Tests from within weren’t battles she could prepare for with weapons or maps.

Calder stirred behind them, groaning. Bambi moved to help him, her hands gentle.

“I’ll fetch water,” she said, voice whispering in the hush.

As she walked away, the storm broke outside, sheets of rain hammering the ruins. Wind rattled broken windows, carrying with it, whispers rain on stone, or something else?

She carried a small clay jar down toward the courtyard, water glinting like silver in the lantern light. She knelt by a trough fed by a narrow pipe, cupping her hands to drink.

Then she saw it, a symbol, carved just beneath the trough’s lip. Fresh. Crimson. An hourglass, broken.

Her breath caught. She knelt closer, fingers tracing the wet grooves. Someone had walked through the water with blood or ink, and had marked this sign deliberately.

Back inside she went, mind racing.

“Elena,” she called softly, stepping into the chamber where Samson and Calder waited.

Elena appeared from the shadows, hands clasped behind her back. “You found it.”

Bambi held her gaze. “Who did this?”

Elena’s face was pale, earnest. “Not me but someone near.”

Samson stood, anger and fear mingling. “Why would someone mark that? Under the trough? That’s not just symbolism, it’s betrayal.”

Calder winced, pressing at a bandage.

“Someone wants to unmask you, Bambi,” Elena said quietly. “They want you to prove you deserve the Heart. Not by sealing, but by surviving betrayal.”

Bambi’s heart pounded. “And Samson? Were you part of this?”

The flash in Samson’s eyes made her stomach twist. “No. Never.”

She looked at him. Trusted him. But doubt scythed through her trust like a blade.

Then Elena stepped forward, pulling a length of crimson ribbon from her belt. It was stained, and chewing frayed the end was frayed.

“This ribbon belonged to one of your grandfather’s guards,” she said. “One who vanished. One who swore loyalty to the Carmine Order. They were never heard from again. But rumors said they turned.”

Bambi took the ribbon. The scent of iron and rain clung to it. “What are you saying?”

Elena’s voice was soft. “I believe someone among us is that guard. Someone who has stayed in the shadows, close enough to claim the Heart.”

Silence weighed in the air. Samson’s jaw clenched. Calder’s breathing shallow.

“Why me?” Bambi whispered. “Why would someone betrayed want me to have this?”

“Elena’s theory is that the Heart demands more than sealing. It demands sacrifice. Not just of blood. Of choices. Of soul.”

Bambi swallowed. The statue faces seemed to lean closer, echoes of impossible eyes watching from stone.

Rain battered the broken roof. Thunder rolled again.

Then a crash. The floor beneath them shuddered.

“Watch out!” Samson shouted.

Stones rain down. Bambi dove, pulling Calder behind a fallen column. Elena staggered, knocked off balance by a falling fragment. Samson shielded them with an arm.

Dust filled the air, grit in her teeth.

When the tremor stopped, they scrambled to their feet.

Outside, the courtyard burst into lightning. Shadows twisted across broken marble.

Bambi pulled the scroll from her satchel, eyes wide. The writing was smeared in parts and what had been clean yesterday was marred now.

Samson took a close look. “Someone messed with your grandfather’s warnings.”

Calder, wincing, climbed upright. “The watchers are angry.”

Bambi clutched the scroll. Rainwater dripped from broken windows, from her hair. “They’re testing me.”

“Maybe,” Samson said. “Or maybe someone wants you to fail.”

A cold realization washed over her: betrayal wasn’t just Elena, not just rival hunters. It might be someone she’s swimming with, breathing next to.

She looked at Calder. Fear, concern, something like love flickered in his green eyes.

She looked at Samson. Soul-scarred, loyal, torn.

And she wondered which one was the shadow.

Evening came. The fire in the courtyard was small now, flickering against battered stone walls. Calder was resting; Bambi leaned against a column, watching sparks drift upward. Samson was pacing near the sealed door, touch lingering on the stone.

“Elena,” Bambi called softly. “Why help us now?”

Elena emerged from the shadow, rain-streaked. “Because I believe the Order’s watchers will kill everything if the Heart isn’t guarded rightly. Even me.”

Bambi’s eyes stung. “Do you ever think about what my grandfather wanted? About legacy?”

Elena looked away, the weight of regret heavy in her voice. “Every day.”

Silence settled.

Then Samson spoke, his voice softer than before. “Bambi, you should rest.”

She shook her head. “Resting means forgetting. I don’t want to forget what they might do if I fail.”

He came close, hand hovering. “But you’re not failing. Not yet.”

She closed her eyes. “I fear I already have.”

Later, as the storm raged outside, Bambi found herself in the heart chamber, alone. The runes were dim, still sealed. The Heart’s light was gone for now. But the room felt alive, breathing.

She laid the ribbon on the pedestal. The wet cloth left a red stain on the ancient stone.

She whispered, “If you’re watching, prove you believe in me.”

The air shifted. A breeze that shouldn’t exist here. The runes flickered. The statue faces above seemed to turn.

Then—footsteps.

She spun.

Samson.

He looked at her, torn.

“Something’s wrong,” he said. “Elena’s absence, it was a test, or maybe she’s hiding something.”

Bambi’s heart clenched. “So who betrayed me?”

He studied her. “I wish I knew. But whoever it is, we have to act before the watchers punish us for the Heart’s awakening.”

Lightning flared, thunder cracked.

They both dimly heard a whisper echo through the chamber:

Guardian, show your mark.

Bambi’s fingers tingled. Her pendant, the thorned compass pressed against her chest. It warmed.

She looked at Samson. “The pendant.”

He nodded. “It was made by your grandfather. I think it’s more than an ornament. It’s part of the Guard.”

She closed her hand around the pendant, feeling its warmth spread.

Rain is pounding overhead. The watchers are stirring in stone. Betrayal within.

The test was no longer theoretical. It was breathing down her neck.

And she was out of time.