Blue Heart

Chapter Fourteen, Ashes Ashes

It was quiet... too quiet. 

The river had done its job of leading them in the right direction, but now the rushing of its calm waters were long gone. Nothing else could be heard except the silent clanking of each soldiers' armor as they journeyed down the base of the ravine. It was hot and humid, so much so that the ground was wet and hard to walk on without slipping. The layers of armor each soldier wore only added to the heat. A dense cloud of fog covered the base of the mountains, causing the colorless sky above to appear gloomier than it actually was. The only visible objects were the silhouettes of the pointed rocks arched over their heads, dotted throughout the mountains like spears sticking out of the earth. Combined with the misty air, it made the wide path harder to anticipate the further and further they went.

Youngest didn't like it one bit.

She stood in front of her army, walking confidently despite her unease. Her hand remained clamped onto the handle of her sword which was tucked away in her scabbard located on her waist. If there hadn't been a war, she would've been thrilled to be standing in her territory again. The longer she walked, the more she remembered how beautiful and sturdy these rocks used to be when they were a warm shade of vermillion. It was disheartening to see how dim and empty it all was. This wasn't her home anymore, it was only a ghost of what she once knew. 

The large feathery wings on her back were raised as she maneuvered forward. She didn't want to risk dragging them on the ground and causing more noise. For all she and her people knew, a scouting party of Harmony Hushers could've been creeping behind the rocks waiting for the right moment to strike. It wouldn't be the first time. 

"How much further?" One of her officers, an older man with graying hair asked her quietly. 

"Far." She answered shortly, "But that's the least of our worries. We should've seen more Harmony Hushers on our way here. I'm starting to think this might be a trap."

Her honest words caused a twinge of panic to emerge in his brown eyes, "Are you certain? Should I escort half our forces back as a precaution?"

"No, he'd be expecting that. We have over a thousand soldiers, my fortress is our only chance at survival if we're ambushed. Tell the troops to pick up the pace. The sooner we get there, the better."

"Yes, your ladyship." He saluted before moving back into the crowd. As his feet glided along the rocks, Youngest wiped the sweat from her forehead. She was good at hiding her fear of failure, but it didn't mean she wasn't the least bit anxious about where the ravine would lead them. She was more concerned about the lives of her warriors than her own. If they were to be attacked, she could simply fly above it all and retreat. She knew she would be swift enough to survive. But the others? They didn't have wings. They didn't have centuries of experience or muscle memory. Most of all, they didn't have the strength to escape the horrors waiting for them behind the stony façade of each hill. 

And so, they continued forward. The soft clattering of footsteps and metal could be heard jingling behind Youngest's tall form. Nobody talked, nobody whispered, nobody was willing to cough if it meant making excessive noise. Despite the wideness of the path, everyone was cramped together like sardines. Even Youngest had to make sure her wings didn't block the vision of those behind her. If Vallen was prepared to strike, they would need to stand together. If they scattered, it would only mean more bloodshed. 

Hours of dreadful silence passed. The closer they got to her fortress, the more they missed the joyful chatter of the Underground. Even Youngest was surprised with how quiet it was. The last time she was this close to her homeland, her front yard had been turned into a battlefield. She could recall how the air was filled with the screams of war and how they had once been filled with music and laughter. But now? Now it felt like the shell of an empty tomb waiting to be robbed and scavenged. She could feel the eeriness of it drain her soldiers' morale just as easily as it drained the comfort from their worn feet.