The Silver-Eyed Stranger
620 Words
The hooded boy didn't wait for my answer.
He pulled me after him, weaving through the forest as though he'd memorized every tree.
"Slow down!"
"You'll survive."
"I might die from exhaustion first!"
"You talk too much."
"I've been told."
Behind us, horns echoed through the valley.
One.
Then another.
Kieran's pace quickened.
"They're spreading out."
"Who's 'they'?"
"The people trying to kill you."
"I figured that part out."
We reached the edge of a cliff.
Below us, a river thundered through the gorge.
There was no bridge.
No path.
Nothing.
I stopped.
"We're trapped."
Kieran looked over the edge.
"No."
He pointed to a narrow fallen pine stretching across the gorge.
"Cross."
I stared.
The trunk was barely wide enough for one person.
The river roared hundreds of feet below.
"I'd rather fight the assassins."
"You'll lose."
"I know."
"So cross."
"I also have a fear of dying."
"You should."
He stepped onto the log without hesitation.
Balanced effortlessly.
Then looked back.
"Trust me."
I folded my arms.
"I met you five minutes ago."
"And you're still alive."
"...Fair point."
Halfway across...
The log creaked.
I froze.
"Don't look down," Kieran said.
Naturally...
I looked down.
The world spun.
The river seemed to pull me toward it.
"I hate you."
"So I've been told."
An arrow whistled through the air.
It struck the log inches from my foot.
I screamed.
More arrows rained from the cliff behind us.
"They found us!"
Kieran turned.
His silver eyes narrowed.
"Run!"
"I'm trying!"
Another arrow grazed my shoulder.
Pain exploded through my arm.
I stumbled.
My foot slipped.
For one terrifying second...
There was nothing beneath me.
I fell.
Strong fingers caught my wrist.
Kieran.
He had thrown himself flat across the log.
One hand gripping the trunk.
The other holding me.
The river roared beneath us.
"You..." I gasped.
"...could've let go."
He looked annoyed.
"That would've been inconvenient."
"Inconvenient?"
"I don't like failing missions."
"So I'm a mission?"
He didn't answer.
Instead he pulled me back onto the log with surprising strength.
The moment my feet found solid ground—
A deafening howl shook the mountains.
Not close.
Far away.
Yet powerful enough to silence the forest.
Every bird took flight.
Even the assassins stopped shooting.
Kieran's face lost all color.
"No..."
"What?"
He looked toward the distant peaks.
"They woke him."
We sprinted until sunset.
Neither of us spoke.
The forest slowly thinned, replaced by ancient stone ruins swallowed by vines.
Broken pillars rose from the earth.
Weathered wolf statues stood guard over a crumbling courtyard.
"This place..." I whispered.
"What is it?"
Kieran's jaw tightened.
"A forgotten shrine."
"To whom?"
He hesitated.
"The First King."
I frowned.
"I've never heard of him."
"I know."
"Why?"
"Because history was rewritten."
Before I could ask another question—
He stopped.
His hand shot out, pushing me behind him.
"What now?"
He pointed toward the center of the ruins.
Someone was sitting on the broken fountain.
A young man.
Dark blue academy uniform.
One leg crossed over the other.
Reading a book.
As though he hadn't noticed us.
As though he hadn't heard the battle.
As though nothing in the world could possibly concern him.
He calmly turned another page.
Without looking up, he spoke.
"I was beginning to think you wouldn't make it."
Kieran's voice turned cold.
"You shouldn't be here."
"I know."
The stranger finally closed his book.
He lifted his head.
Golden eyes.
Cold.
Calculating.
They settled on me.
For several long seconds...
He simply watched.
Then a faint smile appeared.
"So..."
He said quietly.
"The last Ashborn is finally here."
My heart stopped.
I had never heard that name before.
Yet somehow...
It felt like I had.
- Writer
