xliv
1360 Words
The night after the traitor was caught, the camp was quiet—but not at peace.
Leon stood outside the ruined hall where the wounded were resting. His arms were crossed, but his hands trembled slightly. The cold breeze of the Red Hills did nothing to ease the burning in his chest.
He should have known.
He should have seen it.
“Nash...” he muttered under his breath. “How could you?”
He had trusted Nash with his life. They had fought side by side, trained together, shared jokes and food. Nash had always been a little wild, a little too sharp with his words, but Leon thought that was just who he was.
Now he saw it clearly.
The small signs. The times Nash had walked away when talks got serious. The times he had volunteered for guard duty... and yet was never present during an attack. How many maps did he pass on to Hector? How many whispers?
Leon clenched his fists harder.
“If I had found out sooner,” he muttered. “Those people... they’d still be alive,” he added.
A scout approached, head low.
“Sir, do you wish to see the bodies again?” Leon shook his head slowly.
“No. Prepare horses. I’m going to speak with the clan leader,” he said.
“Yes, sir,” the scout answered before running off.
Leon mounted his horse and made the short ride to the larger stone hall where Maraño was recovering. The walls had been reinforced with magic barriers since the attack. Guards now stood outside every door.
When Leon entered, Maraño was sitting on a bed, his shoulder wrapped in clean bandages. A healer was just leaving as Leon approached.
Maraño looked up.
“What is it?” he asked, tired but still strong.
Leon didn’t sit down. He stood at attention like a soldier before a king.
“It was Nash,” he said. “He was the spy.”
Maraño blinked.
For a moment, he didn’t speak. Then he slowly leaned forward.
“No...” he said under his breath.
Leon nodded, eyes dark with guilt. “He left marks on the bodies—an ‘X’. It’s something only he used to do when punishing enemies. And one of the victims, before dying, showed me the mark. That’s when I knew.”
Maraño sat back again. His jaw tightened. “He was one of my own. I raised him since he was young.”
“I trusted him too,” Leon said. “This is on me.”
“No,” Maraño said, closing his eyes. “This is on both of us. If I had been a stronger leader... if I hadn’t let myself become weak—” He winced and held his side. “Maybe none of this would’ve happened.”
“You’re not weak,” Leon said. “But we need to act fast now. If Nash was spying, it means they’re planning something bigger.”
Maraño nodded. “We’ll rebuild defenses. Double the guard. And I want eyes on everyone—no more blind trust,” he added.
Leon turned to leave but paused.
“We can’t let this break us,” he said. “We lost people. But if we fall apart now, their deaths will be wasted.”
Maraño looked at him. “Agreed.”
Meanwhile, far from the Vlada camp, deep in a ruined stone tower, Hector stood pacing near the broken window.
He had tried again and again to contact Nash. He’d used the black stone communicator Azul gave him—crafted with blood magic. But now… only silence.
“Damn it,” Hector hissed, holding the cold stone tightly.
Another minute passed.
Still nothing.
He threw the device against the wall. It shattered with a loud crack.
“Sir?” one of his men asked, stepping forward. “Should we move in? We can strike again while they’re weak.”
“No,” Hector growled, eyes still fixed on the window. “We wait for Sir Azul.”
“But—”
“I said we wait!”
His voice echoed across the cracked walls. The others stepped back, sensing his fury.
Hector was not afraid of many things. But telling Azul about this failed mission—about losing the spy—that thought made his stomach twist.
He wasn’t stupid.
He had seen what Azul did to people who failed him. No one got a second chance. No one walked away from failure without a price.
And Hector knew he was next on the list if he didn’t fix this.
Another man entered the room. He was dressed differently—not like Hector’s soldiers. His cloak was clean. His boots didn’t touch the dirt. His face was sharp and calm.
He was a Brotherhood member.
“Still pacing like a rat in a cage?” the man said.
Hector turned to him. “Watch your mouth,” he warned.
The man raised both hands. “Just saying. You look worried.”
“I’m thinking,” Hector snapped.
“Then think faster,” the Brotherhood man said. “You lost your spy. You lost control. And now, she knows someone was after her.”
Hector gritted his teeth. “I’ll fix it.”
“You better,” the man said, walking closer. “Because Azul won’t be as patient as I am.”
Hector didn’t answer.
The Brotherhood man continued. “I’ll help you—for now. I’ll say I supported the plan. I’ll say it was my idea to use Nash. But you have to do something for me.”
Hector narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“Bring the girl to us. Celestia. We need her alive.”
“Alive?” Hector asked, frowning.
“Yes,” the man said. “Azul wants her dead. But the Brotherhood… we see her differently. Her power is rare. We could use her for the revival of Nightmare Wolf. Train her. Bend her.”
“She won’t follow us,” Hector said.
“She will. Everyone breaks... eventually.”
Hector said nothing.
The man placed something on the table—a small stone box with glowing red lines.
“Give her this if you catch her. It’s a binding stone. It’ll keep her magic sealed until we’re ready.”
Hector didn’t touch it.
“I’ll handle it,” he said, voice low.
“You better,” the man said, turning to leave. “Your life depends on it.”
As the door closed, Hector finally sat down. He stared at the box and clenched his fists.
His heart beat fast.
He wasn’t sure what scared him more now.
Azul…
Or the Brotherhood.
Back at the Vlada camp, the sun was starting to rise again. The fire pits had burned low. People moved slower than usual. The scent of ash still clung to the air.
Celestia stood quietly near the tents where the sick were resting. Her cloak was wrapped tightly around her. Kieran stood a few steps away, speaking with Dwayne and Adelaide. They were organizing the new watch shift.
Celestia stared at the ground.
So many people dead.
So many hurt.
And all because of a traitor in their own camp.
How many more? she thought. How many more people will I lose?
A little girl walked past her, holding a tray of water cups. She was helping her mother. Celestia smiled at her gently.
This is why she fought.
This is why she couldn’t give up.
Kieran came up beside her. “You okay?” he asked.
Celestia nodded. “I’m trying,” she said. “But I feel like something worse is coming.”
Kieran placed a hand on her shoulder. “Then we’ll face it. Together.”
Far away, Hector stood alone in the tower’s top room.
He stared at the red box and then out the window.
Below him, his men sharpened weapons. Others worked on mapping out the South while Azul was out.
He picked up the binding stone.
One way or another…
The witch will become his.
Or she would die.
- Writer
