Life is constructed from a collection of seconds merged to create a single moment. Some are beautiful, like a baby’s first laugh; some are tragic, like the death of a loved one. Each, a collection of actions performed without careful thought, decisions delivering all to reacted choice.

  In this moment, the cliffside drifted further and further, fingers blurring as Ty reflexively grasped at the air. I should’ve blocked the cliff. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. This hadn't been their intended death; she thought she'd have to execute their end. Becoming a pancake at the bottom of a cliff wasn’t exactly their desire; it had merely been a fleeting fantasy.

  They were always reluctant to look down, terrified they might listen to the intruding voice encouraging them to jump, or execute their dismissed imaginings. Ty always knew living to be an empty void but never wanted the others to die afraid.

  The rushing wind and their thumping heart deafened them, but Ty discerned the vibrating in their throat as shrill screams. Their arms flailed, desperate for the wind to change to anything tangible. Unable to breathe, this panic was disproportionately worse than anything they had experienced before; their mind performed the action it knew best.

  Their surroundings merged, and a blur of color encased them. Rubied rain washed over them, a dark blob careening above and disappearing to their side. A collection of snow melted upon their tongue and hands. In fleeting, desperate preservation, their mind perceived the beauty shrouding them over the tragic reality, becoming a broken trinket floating in a snow globe. Ty took a deep breath, the chilling snow shocking her into a calm realization. This was their ending, floating amongst flakes until colliding with the ground.

  At least they’re all out. They won’t even know. Good. Jade, we’re coming.

  Cracking erupted throughout the hillside.

  *

  Fiery twinges swept them between consciousness and sleep. Control was a mere illusion; even opening their eyes was daunting. Hot lava-like throbbing waved from their shoulder, down their arm, and over their chest. Evergreen branches scratched every exposed inch of skin. Blood leaked down their throat, forcing them to cough and gag.

  Fucking tree.

  Roll call.

  Fuck you.

  Shadows shifted as they fought the burning pain anesthetizing them.

  Think we’ll be found?

  How high up?

  Six feet? Ty struggled, turning their head. Incline.

  They might not see us. We can barely move, and we’re already covered in snow. We could survive inkling down. Roll?

  Watch the shoulder. It doesn’t feel right.

  I think it might be dislocated. I can’t move it. Ready? Ty pushed themselves off the limb by using the trunk of the tree. They attempted caution toward their injured shoulder, but landing safely was a true gamble. Nonetheless, this fall further hindered their consciousness.

  *

  Gotta get out of the snow. Ty attempted to crawl through the heavy snow. Gotta stand.

  She staggered a few steps, nausea inducing pain with every step. Guys? She stumbled to their knees, their vision fading. Why is it so hot?

  *

  “I

  fou

  und

  yo

  ou!

  Ho

  ow

  “Keep

  do

  we

  her

  get

  her

  head

  out

  still.”

  of

  he

  ere?”

  Blissful numbness wrapped them in a blanket. They felt feverishly delirious. Sounds muted, as though echoed through a tunnel, correctly sensing anything a futile desire, their body equally distorted. They floated with the winter air.

  “Bre

  eathe.

  Ki

  ara

  bre

  eathe.”

  Soft.

  Warm.

  Leisha.

  “Ke

  eep

  bre

  eath

  ing.

  We’ll

  “It’s

  ge

  et

  hypothermia.”

  yo

  ou

  so

  ome

  pla

  ace

  sa

  afe.”

  We?

  Prickly branches tickled their skin. Weightlessness comforted their swirling head.

  “Just

  keep

  breathing.”

  *

  They were unsure when the branch stretcher turned to furs or the echoing silence filled with the cacophony of merged voices, awareness accompanied suffering. Every inch of their body ached; their right arm felt bound, and their head throbbed.

  Roll call. Jayce hardly spoke above a whisper.

  I have control. Ty snuggled into the soft bed. Take it easy so you can take over later. I heard Leisha. We’re safe. Everyone’s gonna be fine.

  “Kiara?” Leisha articulated concern. “Kiara, are you awake?”

  Not Kiara. Ty held their tongue. “Water.” their voice was rasped.

  “Got something better.” Nahara expressed solace. “Open your eyes.”

  Ty groaned from the effort, light like daggers to their aching head. “Can’t.” Ty shut their eyes. “Na, need rest.”

  “Leisha, go and help Roran with the rations, please.” Nahara ensured privacy.

  “But…the medi”

  “I’ve got this.” Nahara insisted gently but firmly.

  Ty listened to Leisha’s softened footsteps departing. They drifted, leaving Ty, the sole proprietor, with some semblance of control.

  “We’re alone, Ty.” Nahara’s hand chilled their forehead. “Come now, sit up, and drink.”

  She strived to express her fearless persona but carried a slight tremble in her tone.

  “Bad?” Every minuscule movement felt like glass being jammed into their nerves.

  Nahara assisted them to a sitting position. Smooth wood alerted them to a bitter drink.

  “You got lucky,” Nahara answered, easing them down. “Pine caught ya ten feet down a thirty-foot drop. Y’all’s arm was dislocated, but it will heal. No apparent internal bleeding and plenty of contusions. Your head…” Her words caught in her throat. “Hmph. Your head had a couple of lacerations. How are the others?”

  “Be okay.” Their head swirled. “Sing?”

  Even if the others lacked sentience, they often improved with music. Nahara recited a song from the previous Meyat. The original meaning was long lost to time, but it resonated beautifully regardless. The rhythm was like a siren’s shanty; it became Zara’s favorite song.

  “O'er land and sea. There, sing-ing ravens be. Fol-low me. Fol-low me.” She began with her harmonious tone. “We’ll find the tree. Wh-ere truth lies free. Fol-low me. Fol-low me. Ad-ven-ture the key. Some Meade and poe-try. Fol-low me. Fol-low me. No lon-ger a plea. To live with glee. Fol-low me. Fol-low me.”

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  *

  Thick fog clouded their mind, eyelids heavy, and strange aftertaste filled their mouth.

  Alvis gave us his cocktail again.

  “The constant moving is slowing her progress.” A familiar voice distorted through the fog.

  Where we going? Were we successful?

  “It’ll be alright. She’s strong, and we have a hundred and sixteen people to care for.” Nahara solemnly replied.

  The kids.

  “Alaina.” Unable to discern who asked. “Arkel. Baby.” For an unknown reason, some cared and together inquired.

  Our head.

  “Sweet child, your group is fine. Rest.” Nahara comforted them.

  “I’m sorry, Kiara. I’m so sorry.” Leisha’s cracking voice seemed impassioned.

  “It’s going to be fine,” Nahara declared confidently. "You need to sleep, too.”

  *

  It’d be so easy. Ty struggled in the dark, forcing slow breaths through the piercing weight; transparent, her oncoming falter to the void and their body’s horrific convulsing, its subconscious spar for life. The bag’s right there. There’d be enough to just go to sleep. We wouldn’t be in pain anymore. I wouldn’t have to fight this pathetic body anymore. I’m so tired. I just wanna breathe. I just wanna sleep.

  Their body refused to budge. They were dizzy and weighted, brain too deprived to move without assistance. Leisha can’t know. She’d freak out. Just need the bag.

  The piercing ache shifted to weighted stabs, and any breath filled with molten fire. Her vision darkened as she succumbed to exhaustion.

  She always felt every tremor, like electric lava pulsating in waves; their desperate gasping and choking, unable to inhale without anesthetizing pain. Echoes of struggle rang through the fog, numbing consciousness.

  Maybe this could be the end? Ty surrendered to the creeping shroud. Please, just take us already.

  “You’re okay.” A somewhat familiar voice echoed through the aether. “You’re safe. We’ve got you.”

  *

  Head trauma? Rin groggily moaned.

  Head trauma. Ty confirmed, solaced by Rin’s return.

  In and out? Rin sighed.

  A few days, I think. Ty refused to move. Tree saved us.

  Who saw? Visions of raining blood flooded their thoughts.

  You, Jayce, and I. Ty blocked the memory. Others don’t need to remember being tossed off a cliff by that asshole.

  Least you got him. Rin concluded Ty’s requirement for a break. Want me to take control?

  Please. Ty’s gratitude was analogous to intoxicating waves.

  Their body ached with every breath. Rin discovered them safe in a tent. Leisha slept beside them, but a familiar gaze fell on them.

  Hypnotizing icy eyes, lost and searching, sandy blonde hair waved with tight curls. Presumably, his entrance had woke them.

  He was Rikevran.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake ya.” His voice was moderately deep, soft and melodic. “How ya feeling?”

  “Sore,” Rin confessed. “How long since the fall?”

  “About a week,” He answered. "Seems like your fever broke. Can I check?”

  “It broke.” Rin felt unsure of their speeding heart. “What’s your name?”

  “Roran. ” He smiled, gentle sparks in his eyes. “I was coming to give you your medicine.”

  Leisha rolled over, faintly moaning, her eyes puffy.

  She must have been so worried and frightened. Did she get hurt in the fight? “Is she okay?”

  “She wouldn’t willingly leave your side,” Roran admitted. “She felt bad being unable to help during the ambush.” He handed them a cup of bitter medicine.

  “Nahara worried?” Rin shot it down; less taste, she hoped.

  “About you?” Roran’s smile reached his eyes, leaving dotted dimples beside them. “Her fierce Rikevran wolf? Always and never.”

  “What does that mean?” Rin chuckled at the peculiar answer.

  “She told everyone you’d be fine, but she checks in every hour,” Roran explained. “She’s turning you into a saga, ya know?”

  “Kiara?” Leisha sleepily lifted her head. “Kiara!” Her arms wrapped around them.

  Their already rose cheeks flamed. Leisha burrowed her head into their neck, tears trickling onto their collarbone.

  “Watch the arm.” Roran reminded.

  “Sorry.” Leisha swiped away her tears, easing back. “How are you?”

  “I’m okay,” Rin answered. “You good?”

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to help,” She was hoarse. “There was an emergency in one of the recovery tents, and the others on watch said they could handle things; then people started screaming about an ambush, and all the sick started begging for help. I hoped you’d be alarmed and fully planned on returning, but there were so many people. I couldn’t.”

  “To be a Rikevran is to put the weaker first.” Rin interrupted Leisha’s rambled explanation. “We all train to sacrifice and even die for others to have a chance at peace. You did the right thing. Always protect those who can’t protect themselves.”

  A sly, boyish smile brightened Roran’s eyes again. “I’ll go get Nahara.” He nodded to excuse himself. “She’ll probably kill me for waiting this long.”

  The atmosphere seemed to change with Roran’s departure; the light dimmed, and the air felt heavier.

  Their heart began to calm, and a strange melancholy swept over them.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Leisha sniffled, her olive eyes welling with tears. “You were shaking and turning blue when I found you.”

  Shit.

  Just ask what the healers said. Ty passively suggested. She won’t consider a chronic illness. Stay calm.

  “What did the healers say?” Rin aimed for confused concern, though Ty’s indifference further alarmed her.

  “All, except Alvis and Nahara, thought you would die,” Leisha shakily answered. “Most people die if they shake after head trauma…” She shook her head. “Even if it’s not right away, they didn’t think you’d wake up and would just die slowly.”

  “And yet she was fine.” Nahara’s pride altered the ambiance of the room.

  Heavy bags, pailing skin, and knotted curls, but glee illuminated her.

  “Only because you showed up in time,” Leisha muttered. “Never would’ve found her if I was dead.”

  “Bet your plants helped.” Rin grinned. “What a lovely flavor of drink.”

  “Leisha, please go and collect herbs.” Nahara knelt beside them. I have to examine your wounds again. She likes privacy.”

  “Fine.” Leisha pouted. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Nahara held a coy grin until Leisha departed. “Only a month, and she’s smitten. Bet you love that.” She laid them flat and delicately folded their top above their stomach.

  “She gave us a peck during Cúvidel.” Rin winced as Nahara moderately pressed their side. “She was drunk and probably doesn’t remember, though.”

  “Well, she didn’t wanna leave your side,” Nahara smirked. “How bad’s the pain?”

  “We can move,” Rin answered. “How many attacks did she see?”

  “Just the one on the mountain.” Nahara adjusted their dress, a severe gaze replaced her smile. “Y’all bruised a rib, but I ain’t worried about that. How’s everyone?”

  “For now, it’s just me and Ty,” Rin grunted as Nahara changed the wrapping. “How bad was it?”

  Nahara wearily sighed. “I had Alvis care for you alone so I could keep Leisha away. The first day, you had six. We didn’t allow anyone else to see them, as promised. Couldn’t control Leisha telling everyone about the one on the mountain, though. The whole damned crowd started saying you were gonna die. Got worse when the fever hit. Roran made broth every day and night. He was the only one who believed us about you. I knew you’d be fine. You guys are wolves.”

  “Survive alone,” Rin sighed. “Die for the pack.”

  Nahara whacked their uninjured arm. “Survive alone; truly live with a pack,” She scolded. “Don’t let me ever catch y'all willingly killing yourselves. There is no honor in fighting with the will of suicide. Those the maidens take with honor don’t willingly give their lives to enemies. Wolves fight to protect and see many more days with their pack. If you're gonna be a wolf among ravens, then fight with the intent to see the next day.”

  She really wants us to live. Ty sighed.

  “Telling people you got it, clearly outnumbered.”

  Why not? Rin replied. Might be worth it, someday.

  “You understand me?” Nahara studied their eyes, placing cold metal into their palm. “Keep the promise they couldn’t.”

  Cleaned and sharpened, their precious athame shimmered in the light.

  Our knife. Ty sighed in relief.

  “We didn’t lose it,” Rin whispered.

  “I found it in your cloak pocket,” Nahara whispered. “Cleaned it up for ya.”

  “We promised to keep them forever,” Rin murmured, no memory of them stowing the athame. “Never again would people take from us, or it’d be their lives.”

  “Then don’t ever take on that many by yourself again, okay?” Nahara sighed. “There’s so much I still haven’t shown you that you must be patient to see. I promise it’s worth it. I’ve seen how ruthless you can be.”

  Their gaze subconsciously fell to the vaguely obscured scar, where her shoulder met her neck.

  “What haven’t you shown us?” Rin attempted to replace the treacherous memory with new information.

  Light from the outside silenced the conversation.

  “Sorry.” Roran’s voice quieted as his body tensed, realizing he had interrupted them. He held a bowl in his hand. “I figured she’d be hungry; she hasn’t eaten in days.” His voice carried like a strong yet sweet song. “I’m sorry; I should’ve announced myself.”

  “You’re fine. I have some things I must attend to anyway.” Nahara smiled. “Don’t worry, she doesn’t bite hard.”

  Roran appeared hesitant to approach. “Hungry?”

  “Yeah.” Rin nodded, happy for his return. “Nahara’s pretty busy, huh?”

  “Yeah, she’s got a lot planned.” Roran’s grin brightened his eyes. “And we had a lot of kids this time, so she’s in full mom mode.”

  “Were you a kid, too?” They inquisitively stared.

  “Been Rikevran my whole life, but Nahara found me when I was twenty-four.” He helped them up. “That was almost two years ago? Eat.”

  Rin hadn’t realized the extent of their ravenous stomach until the first bite of succulent beef. Brief flashes of feverish broth sips, erased by the savory juices in every cut. Cooked to perfection; brown on the outside and medium-well on the inside, with a smokey flavor bursting from each bite. She involuntarily, delightedly moaned.

  “Like it?” Roran suppressed a smile, though a plea for approval in his eyes.

  “It’s so freaking good.” Fatty juices trickled down their chin, wiping it with a cloth offered by Roran. “Thank you.” They chuckled in embarrassment.

  “I’m glad you like it.” Roran grinned.

  “Do you know why Nahara wanted to rescue so many people this time?” Rin inquired. “Was it a statement?”

  “Yes, but also for a project,” Roran answered. “She needs more people, but I can’t say much. It has to be a secret. It could change everything.”

  “Something that could change everything?” Rin absentmindedly repeated. “Building a weapon? An army?”

  “You know, Nahara.” Roran shook his head, sandy curls waving with his head. “You’ll see soon.”

  “Well, what’s our current plan? What now?” Rin spoke between bites. “By the way, did you want some of this?”

  “It’s for you. The plan is to send the sick to a safe place, anyone capable of helping with Nahara’s project to her secret location, and the rest to be apprenticed out to the field,” Roran explained. You don’t have to worry about that ’til you’re all healed up.

  “Is Nahara going to let me continue in the field while I heal?” They refused to be withdrawn, and though they enjoyed resting on secluded farms, they felt useless not actively helping others.

  “Your injuries weren’t too severe, but you’ll have to ask Nahara about that one,” Roran replied. “We are moving again tomorrow. Most of the sick have already been moved, though, so there ain’t as many. It’s slow-moving.”

  “That’s the price of safety.” Rin sighed, handing the bowl to Roran. “Thanks for the food.”

  “Of course.” Roran nodded, setting the bowl aside and helping them lay back down. “Get some rest for tomorrow.”

  “I’ll try.” Rin whispered.

  “Oh, by the way,” He turned, retrieving their dagger from his pocket. “I thought you’d want this back.”

  “How the fuck did you find that?” Rin traced their thumb over the smooth hilt.

  “It was by the cliff.” Roran sheepishly poked his fingers together. “I was the closest to you guys. Found that making sure everyone escaped. It’s how I found you guys.”

  “Thanks for helping.” Rin smiled.

  “Always.” Roran nodded, quietly leaving.

  Rin desired his stay. His presence emitted a brightness; his eyes seemed to hold stars, and his smile brought fresh air to the room.

  No, Rin. Ty warned, annoyed by Rin’s inability to control her lust.

  I know, I know. You hate the concept of love. Rin teased.

  You fall in love with everyone. Ty spat.

  Maybe I don’t want us to be alone anymore.

  So you’d rather be a burden or taken advantage of?

  We’re gonna die alone.

  Yeah, well, after all our failures, it’s what we deserve.