The wind shifted suddenly. A faint figure stumbled over the hill, red hair tangled, clothes torn, breath ragged.
"Help—please!" the voice cracked.
Liana's hand flew to her sword, but the Shadow King raised a hand. "Wait."
The figure collapsed at their feet, trembling, gasping. And when Liana saw her face, her heart lurched.
Sera.
"She… she came out of nowhere," Sera rasped, clutching at the Shadow King's cloak. "A masked woman. She tore through my wards, struck me down—I couldn't stop her. She took the Heart."
"Who?" the Shadow King demanded, kneeling. "Who took it?"
Sera shook her head, tears streaking her dirt-covered face. "I—I don't know. She moved like a shadow. But she's powerful. And she knew exactly what she wanted."
Liana's heart pounded. "You're saying someone ambushed you—alone?"
Sera nodded, eyes wide with panic. "I tried to fight back. I swear it. But she was… stronger." Her shoulders shook. "I failed you. I failed all of you."
For a long moment, only the sound of the wind filled the air.
The Shadow King's hand tightened on Sera's arm. His voice softened, almost breaking. "You're alive. That's what matters."
Sera gripped his cloak tighter. "Let me help fix this. Let me make it right. Please."
A heavy silence fell.
Then, at last, the Shadow King gave a single nod. "We go together."
The sun hung low, painting the sky in bruised shades of violet and gold as Liana trudged behind the Shadow King and Sera. The air was cold, sharp as a blade, whispering of storms to come.
For days, they had pushed deeper into the desolate lands, chasing rumors, following whispers of the stolen Heart of the Labyrinth. With each passing mile, Liana's unease had only grown.
She stole a glance at Sera, whose fiery red hair caught the fading sunlight like a flame. Sera laughed softly at something the Shadow King murmured, eyes bright, steps light. To any outsider, she was the perfect ally — fierce, loyal, charming.
But Liana had learned to see the cracks.
The morning after Sera's return, Liana's water had tasted sharp, metallic. She'd barely taken two sips before her stomach churned and her vision blurred.
Two days later, a knife slipped from Sera's hand during training, missing Liana's arm by inches.
Three days in, Liana's boot lace was cut clean through — just before a skirmish with a shadow beast erupted out of nowhere. She'd stumbled, narrowly avoiding the beast's claws, her heart slamming in her chest.
She told herself it was coincidence. She told herself she was tired, imagining things.
But she was done lying to herself.
The attack came at dusk.
They were crossing a jagged valley, the wind a constant howl between the cliffs, when the first screech split the air. Dark shapes exploded from the rocks — hunched creatures with twisted limbs, rows of gleaming teeth, eyes burning with malevolent light.
"AMBUSH!" the Shadow King roared, drawing his scepter in a flash of dark light.
Liana's sword was already in her hands as the creatures swarmed. She ducked under a snapping jaw, drove her blade up into its throat, spun to parry another strike. The air filled with the clash of steel, the crackle of magic, the stench of burning flesh.
Sera's voice rose behind her, sharp with command as ribbons of flame lashed the beasts. "To the left! Keep the line!"
For a moment, they were holding.
And then Liana felt the earth shift beneath her.
She stumbled, glancing down — a fissure had opened at her feet, the ground crumbling. She leapt back just in time as the ledge collapsed into the chasm below. Her heart hammered, sweat stinging her eyes.
She looked up — and saw Sera, hand still raised, the faint shimmer of magic curling from her fingers.
Their eyes locked.
Sera smiled — a flicker, small, cold — before she turned away, casting a bolt of fire at another beast.
That night, Liana couldn't stay silent.
She waited until the camp was quiet, the fire burning low, the stars sharp and cold overhead. The Shadow King sat at the edge of the firelight, gaze distant, polishing his blade.
"She's trying to kill me," Liana said quietly.
He looked up, frowning. "Who?"
"Sera." Her voice trembled. "The water, the knife, the ground today. She's… she's sabotaging us. Sabotaging me."
The Shadow King's expression softened with something like concern — but it was fleeting.
"Liana," he murmured, "you're exhausted. We all are. Don't let fear cloud your mind."
"I'm not imagining this."
He reached, fingertips brushing her arm. "You need rest."
The words were gentle. They still cut like a blade.
Liana pulled back, jaw tight. Across the fire, Sera watched, lips curved in a soft, knowing smile.
The next attack came at dawn.
They were halfway across a narrow mountain pass when the beasts struck again — this time larger, faster, their bodies sheathed in shadow.
Liana barely had time to raise her sword before a brute slammed into her, knocking her flat on her back. The air fled her lungs. She rolled, stabbing upward, felt the blade sink into flesh.
A second creature lunged. Liana twisted away — but her foot slipped. She hit the ground hard, blade skittering out of reach.
"Liana!"
The Shadow King's voice.
A flash of dark light. A roar. A body falling across hers.
And then — warmth. Fingers closing around hers, pulling her upright.
Sera's face, close to hers, smiling. Too close. Too smooth.
"Careful," Sera murmured sweetly. "You're lucky I was here."
Liana yanked her arm back, heart pounding.
The fight ended in blood and ash, the sun clawing its way over the horizon as they limped away, battered but alive.
But something in Liana's chest was breaking.
That night, she cornered the Shadow King.
"She's dangerous," Liana hissed, voice shaking. "She's dangerous, and you refuse to see it."
The Shadow King's eyes darkened. "We've been over this."
"No," Liana snapped, stepping closer, "you've dismissed this. You've dismissed me. And I'm done pretending everything's fine."
Sera stepped into the clearing, arms crossed, flame-red hair spilling over one shoulder. "Is there a problem?"
Liana's hands clenched at her sides.
"Yes," she said coldly. "Stay away from me."
Sera's brows lifted, a small pout curving her lips. "Oh, Liana. You're so tired. You really should rest."
"Don't touch me," Liana hissed, stepping back.
The Shadow King rose, voice sharp. "Enough."
But it was already too late.
Something had splintered open — and it would not be mended tonight.
Liana slept apart from the group, curled against a boulder at the edge of camp, sword within arm's reach. The stars blurred overhead, her eyes burning, chest tight.
She heard the others — the low murmur of the Shadow King's voice, the soft sound of Sera's laughter. She felt the distance like a blade at her back.
She would not beg. She would not explain again.
If they would not protect her — she would protect herself.
---
They set out at dawn toward the ruins of the Southern Fortress, a crumbling shadow on the horizon where the last whispers of the stolen Heart had led them.
Liana walked at the rear of the group, eyes sharp, senses stretched thin.
When the beasts came — and they would come — she would be ready.
When Sera's next snare was laid, she would step aside.
And when the truth finally broke free, when the Shadow King saw with his own eyes — she would be there, unbroken, unbowed.
Waiting.