TWENTY: THE BEGINNING OF WAR
422 Words
They didn’t wait for the next attack.
This time… they moved first.
“You said we stop running,” Ember said, rolling her shoulders as she adjusted her stance. The faint glow beneath her skin pulsed in time with her breath—controlled, but barely contained.
Bright gave a single nod, eyes fixed on the narrow trail ahead. “We hunt them instead.”
A sharp wind curled through the mountain pass, carrying with it the scent of ash and something older—something metallic.
Ember’s lips twitched, not quite a smile. Her eyes burned brighter.
“Good.”
They followed the tracks deeper into the mountain.
The path twisted unnaturally, cutting through jagged stone like it had been carved in haste—or desperation. Claw marks scored the walls in uneven patterns, some fresh enough to crumble at a touch. Others were older, darker… stained.
Farther than before.
Farther than Ember had ever gone.
Farther than Bright was comfortable admitting.
The air grew thinner. Quieter. Even the wind seemed to retreat, as if unwilling to cross whatever threshold they were approaching.
Bright slowed, his gaze flicking to the shadows pooling between the rocks. “They’re nesting here,” he muttered.
A low rumble echoed somewhere deep within the mountain—not quite a growl, not quite shifting stone.
“Like animals.”
Ember stopped walking.
Bright took two more steps before noticing. He turned back.
She was staring at the ground—at the tracks. Not just claw marks. Patterns. Repetition. Formation.
Her voice, when it came, was quieter than the mountain itself.
“No.”
She lifted her gaze toward the dark opening ahead—a jagged mouth in the rock, exhaling cold air that didn’t belong to any natural cave.
Her flames dimmed slightly, tightening, sharpening.
“Like soldiers.”
Another sound drifted out from the darkness.
Not a growl this time.
A signal.
That word changed everything.
Because soldiers meant command.
Leadership.
Strategy.
Someone behind it all.
They reached the ridge at dusk.
And there.. they saw it, the gathering of five, not only ten but dozens.
Waiting.
Watching.
All was excited and prepared everything for her.
Bright’s expression turned cold. “This isn’t just a hunt anymore.”
Ember stepped forward slightly. Fire flickering faintly in her palm.
“No,” she said.
“It’s a war.”
The wind howled around them.
Carrying the scent of blood, ash—
And something far worse.
The truth was coming.
And when it did—
Nothing would survive it.
- Writer
