Blood and Shadows

The carriage raced through the dense forest, its wheels clattering over uneven ground, each creak a desperate plea for speed. Two guards sat upfront, their faces set with grim determination as they urged the horses onward. The horses, their breaths visible in the frosty night air, galloped relentlessly, their hooves pounding the earth in a frantic rhythm. Riding just behind them was Prince Belin, his sword drawn and his gaze scanning the darkness. Flanked by guards, he kept a vigilant watch, his posture taut with readiness.

The night was suffocating, the oppressive darkness broken only by the faint glow of two lanterns mounted at the carriage's front. Their flickering light cast long, wavering shadows that danced like specters among the trees. Overhead, the moon remained hidden behind a shroud of thick clouds, its light extinguished as if by some sinister design. The forest seemed alive, its ancient trees looming like silent sentinels, their twisted branches clawing at the sky.

Inside the carriage, Princess Liria sat stiffly, her hands fidgeting in her lap. Her fingers tugged nervously at the fabric of her dress, the repetitive motion a futile attempt to calm her racing thoughts. She couldn't banish the image of her parents, their figures swallowed by the chaos as she was ushered away. Beside her, Tia clasped her hands tightly, her whispered prayers barely audible over the din of the carriage wheels.

"Watch out!" one of the rear guards shouted, his voice slicing through the night.

Liria and Tia jolted, scrambling to the small window. Peering into the darkness, Liria's heart sank. Two figures on horseback emerged from the darkness, their presence unmistakably hostile. One wore a black cloak that billowed ominously in the wind, while the other donned armour that bore a cruel resemblance to Eastanzarth's own guards. But Liria recognized the deception—the stiff posture, the calculated movements. These were no allies.

"Keep going! Don't stop for anything!" Prince Belin commanded, his voice sharp and resolute. He rode up alongside the carriage, his expression a mask of determination. His gaze met Liria's, and for a fleeting moment, the prince she knew—her brother—shone through the warrior.

"Promise me you'll stay alive," Belin said, his tone softening as he leaned closer. "No matter what happens, you must survive. Don't look back. Keep moving forward."

Tears blurred Liria's vision as she reached out, cupping his face with trembling hands. "I can't lose you, Belin," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Please, come back to me. Promise me."

Belin hesitated, the weight of her words pressing against his resolve. He pressed his forehead to hers, a silent farewell lingering in the gesture. "I'll try," he said finally, his voice heavy with unspoken fears. "But if I can't, you must live. That is your duty, Liria."

Before she could respond, he pulled away, urging his horse toward the approaching riders. Liria watched as he drew his sword, its blade catching the faint lantern light. Her brother disappeared into the fray, leaving only the echoes of clashing steel and muffled cries behind.

The carriage lurched forward, the guards urging the horses to greater speeds. Liria's hands gripped the window frame as she strained to hear over the pounding hooves. Each clash of swords sent a shiver through her, the uncertainty gnawing at her insides.

"You must try to rest, Princess," Tia said softly, her voice careful but firm.

Liria turned to her, her expression incredulous. "Rest? How can I rest when my brother fights for his life, when my parents may be..." She trailed off, her throat tightening. "And here I am, running away like a coward."

Tia flinched but kept her tone calm. "You're not a coward, Princess. You're doing what they asked of you—surviving. That's how you honor them."

Liria slumped against the seat, her energy draining as the weight of the night bore down on her. "I hate this," she whispered. "I hate not knowing if they're alive or—" She bit her lip, silencing the words.

Tia reached out, placing a comforting hand over Liria's. "Prince Belin is strong, and so are your parents. You must believe in them."

For a moment, silence reigned, save for the rhythmic clatter of wheels and hooves. Liria closed her eyes, her mind a storm of worry and helplessness.

"Where are we going, Tia?" she asked after a long pause, her voice barely audible.

Tia hesitated before leaning toward the small window that connected the carriage to the front. "Guard," she called, "where are we headed?"

"Beyond Eastanzarth's borders," the guard answered curtly, glancing back.

Liria frowned. "To where exactly?"

"Midland or Baratzar," he replied. "It depends on what we find along the way."

Liria's unease deepened. "Midland and Baratzar are so far... And their kings barely know us. How can we be sure we'll find safety there?"

"We're not seeking royal help," the guard said firmly. "It's too dangerous to trust anyone until we know who's behind this attack. We'll blend in, hide among the people. It's the safest option for now."

As the carriage slowed at a crossroads, Liria leaned out of the window, her gaze scanning the darkness. A faint sound reached her ears—hoofbeats approaching from behind. Her heart leapt as a familiar figure emerged from the shadows.

"Belin!" she cried, scrambling to open the carriage door. She stumbled out, running toward him. Relief and joy surged through her as she flung her arms around him. "You're alive," she whispered, tears streaming down her face.

Belin held her tightly, his breathing heavy but steady. "I told you I'd come back," he said, though his voice betrayed his exhaustion.

"You're safe," she murmured, clutching him as if afraid to let go.

"For now," he replied, his tone grave. He glanced at the guards. "We'll rest in Red Town, but we can't afford to linger. Stay alert."

As the group prepared to move again, the forest seemed to close in around them, the shadows growing thicker. The respite was temporary; Liria could feel it in her bones. The night was far from over, and the danger was far from gone.