Revolutions

169 - Legido

The first thing you notice is the loud pounding in your chest, like a war drum, thum, thum, thum, driving you forward. The sound behind you—those relentless footsteps, that guttural murmur—matches the rhythm. You don't risk looking back. Looking back means slowing down, and slowing down means...

Don't finish the thought. Instead, keep running.

Landera moves ahead, weaving through the treacherous terrain with the ease of something born to it. Iker lags behind, pale and panting as his muttered curses are barely audible over the rush of blood in your ears.

"Faster!" Landera calls, her voice sharp and urgent, cracking like a whip against the night. Her silhouette is barely visible in the faint starlight, a flicker of motion in the blackened wilderness.

Your foot catches on a jagged rock, and you stumble, clutching the scroll tighter to your chest as you lurch forward. The coarse parchment digs into your ribs, and you panic, hoping you didn't destroy the scroll in your clumsiness.

"This is madness," Iker gasps from somewhere behind you. "We don't even know who—what—is chasing us!"

You know he's right, but that doesn't seem to matter right now. Not when the threat—whatever it is—is breathing down your neck. Not when every instinct screams at you to move, to keep moving, to run until your legs give out.

The ground shifts beneath your feet, loose stones tumbling away with every hurried step. The narrow path winds unpredictably, forcing you to navigate by instinct more than sight. The air is thin, each breath grating against your throat. Nevertheless, you push on.

Ahead, Landera pauses just long enough to glance back at you. Her eyes glint with a mixture of frustration and something sharper. Fear, maybe. She's about to say something, but then the noise behind you swells. It's closer now. They're gaining on you. You can almost feel their presence bearing down upon you.

"Move!" she shouts desperately.

You surge forward, ignoring the burning in your legs. The path narrows again. The natural walls of the gorge close in like the jaws of some great beast. The shadows seem alive, shifting with each step. For a moment, you swear you see movement ahead—something tall, dark, and impossibly fast.

The thought barely registers before Landera skids to a halt. Her hand shoots up in a silent command to stop. You slam into her back, nearly losing your grip on the scroll.

"What now?" you think you whisper, except maybe your voice carries further and louder than you realize, what with your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

She doesn't answer immediately. Her head tilts slightly, as her eyes scan the darkness ahead. Iker finally catches up, as his breaths come in ragged gasps. "Why are we stopping?" he dares to question.

Without look at him, Landera says, simply, "Listen."

You strain your ears, trying to make sense of the sounds around you. The footsteps behind you have grown fainter, but they haven't stopped. And ahead...

There's something else. A faint rustle, like fabric brushing against stone. The soft crunch of gravel underfoot.

Someone—or something—is out there.

Landera's hand moves to the knife at her belt. "Stay close," she murmurs, her tone leaving no room for argument. She takes a cautious step forward, her movements as silent as the shadows themselves.

You follow, your grip on the scroll tightening until your knuckles ache. Iker mutters something under his breath—another complaint, another curse—but he falls in line behind you.