Chapter 3: The Hit
Lilith walked alone through the forest.
The others should already be ahead of her.
They were supposed to be at the ambush point by now, hidden, waiting. She had lingered behind in Langholm longer than planned, insisting on collecting a sack—“just in case,” she’d said, as though any of this ever stayed within the boundaries of “just in case.” The truth was simpler. She had needed a reason not to arrive early. Not to sit in silence with her thoughts too long before everything began.
Being alone was complicated for her.
She often grew sick of Ren’s constant motion, the way his words filled every gap in a room like water flooding cracks. She tired of towns, of people, of noise that never quite stopped pressing against her ears. And when she was with Ishamon in the forest, there was usually peace in it—shared silence, familiar presence, the quiet feeling of not being watched by anything except trees.
But alone was different.
Alone made her skin feel too tight.
Every few moments there was a faint, inexplicable tingling along her spine, a subtle jolt that made her shoulders twitch without permission. Not fear exactly. Not pain. Something quieter and worse, like the feeling of being noticed without knowing by what. She adjusted her grip on the sack in her hand, forcing herself to keep walking.
The forest was turning.
Summer light was beginning its slow surrender, the sun dropping behind distant hills in a way that stretched time itself into uneven pieces. The light left behind was neither day nor night, but something in between—grey, yellow, almost bruised. It flattened the world and sharpened the silhouettes of the tall pines, stretching their shadows long across the forest floor like dark fingers reaching.
Lilith stepped over them.
It wasn’t even conscious anymore.
A childhood habit that had never left her.
She and her sister used to play a game: avoid the shadows, step only on light, pretend the darkness on the ground was something that could pull you under if you weren’t careful. Ishamon had joined in later, when they were younger still, laughing as he tried to keep up with rules that kept changing. Somewhere along the way it stopped being a game and just became the way she moved.
So she stepped carefully.
Light patch to light patch.
Avoiding darkness as though it mattered.
The deeper she went, the more the forest pressed around her, until finally she saw the shape of the road cut through a steep incline. The path carved a narrow channel between two raised embankments, giving it a natural choke point. A good place for an ambush. A bad place for anything caught inside it.
Ishamon was already there.
He crouched at the roadside, half-hidden by brush, knife resting loosely in one hand. When he saw her, he gave a small, easy greeting like they were meeting for a walk rather than waiting to rob a convoy.
“You took your time,” he said softly.
“I brought a sack.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“It should be.”
From across the road, on the opposite side of the cutting, Ren and Frankie were visible in fragments through the trees. They had found the tree. Or rather, a tree had found them in the sense that it was currently being violently negotiated with an axe that looked entirely inadequate for the job.
Frankie worked in tight, efficient motions. Ren worked in enthusiastic ones that occasionally involved missing entirely.
The sound of their bickering carried across the road.
“That’s not how you swing it!”
“It is exactly how you swing it!”
“You’re going to die doing that!”
“I haven’t died yet!”
“Statistically meaningless!”
Lilith exhaled slowly through her nose.
Ishamon watched them for a moment, then leaned back against the embankment.
“All we can do now,” he said, “is wait.”
Lilith lowered herself onto the ground beside him, placing the sack carefully at her feet. The earth was damp beneath her, soft with old rain and pine needles. She stared down the road, where the forest narrowed into a distant bend, and tried not to think about how small they all were compared to everything around them.
The sky dimmed further.
Shadows deepened.
The forest began to lose its definition, edges blurring as day thinned into evening.
After a while, Ishamon spoke again.
“If you could leave,” he asked, “if none of this mattered, if you had enough money to go anywhere and do anything… what would you do?”
Lilith didn’t answer immediately.
The question hung there between them, too large for the space it occupied. Ishamon glanced at her and, seeing the way her expression drifted somewhere distant, quickly added with a faint grin, “I’d have a palace. Massive one. Marble floors. Gold ceilings. Lumics as servants, all of them. And I’d make them very precise about everything. No magic in the entire place. Strict rules. Very strict.”
He nodded to himself, pleased with the image.
Ren’s voice drifted over from across the road.
“I’d fix the economy,” he called, as if he had been listening the entire time.
“No you wouldn’t,” Frankie replied.
“I would absolutely fix the economy.”
“You can’t even fix a door.”
“I have fixed doors.”
“You broke more doors than you fixed.”
“That’s irrelevant.”
Ishamon chuckled, then looked back to Lilith.
“And you?” he asked, softer now, less teasing.
Lilith hesitated.
She didn’t like the idea of palaces. Too large. Too full. Too many places for people to hide things. Too many rules pretending to be order. She thought about noise, about cities, about the endless churn of people and obligations and debts.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
It came out quieter than she intended.
She tried again, thinking harder.
“I think… a house. Not big. Just enough land that no one comes too close unless I want them to. Somewhere warm. South, maybe. Somewhere the ground isn’t always trying to swallow your boots.”
Ishamon nodded slowly, as if turning the idea over in his mind.
“That sounds peaceful.”
“It sounds boring,” Ren shouted again.
“Exactly,” Frankie added.
Lilith allowed herself a small, reluctant smile.
“Boring would be fine,” she said.
For a moment, even Ishamon didn’t argue.
The forest around them deepened into dusk. The last of the light thinned into pale strands between the trees. Somewhere far off, an owl called once and fell silent again.
Then the sound came.
Distant at first.
Faint enough to be mistaken for wind moving through branches.
But it wasn’t wind.
It was rhythm.
Hooves.
And something heavier beneath them.
Wheels moving over uneven road.
Metal shifting.
A convoy.
Ishamon straightened immediately.
Across the road, Ren’s head snapped up.
Frankie paused mid-swing with the axe.
The tree groaned under its own wounded weight.
For one suspended moment everything held.
Then the final cut gave way.
The trunk shuddered.
Tilted.
And came down with a crashing roar that echoed through the forest like a breaking bone.
Branches exploded outward.
Leaves scattered into the air.
The road was suddenly, decisively blocked.
Silence followed the impact.
A short one.
Then, from down the road, the sound of the convoy grew louder.
Ren’s grin appeared instantly, sharp and bright even in the fading light.
Frankie stepped back from the fallen tree, breathing slightly heavier now, wiping sweat and sap from her hands.
Ishamon exhaled once.
“Here we go,” he said quietly.
Lilith’s fingers tightened slightly around the strap of the sack at her side.
The forest held its breath with them.
Lilith drew her sword.
The blade came free with an awkward metallic scrape that seemed far louder than it should have.
It was an old thing.
Heavy.
Poorly balanced.
A city guard's sword she'd stolen years ago when she'd been younger, stupider, and considerably luckier.
At the time she'd imagined herself becoming the sort of person who carried a sword.
The reality had proven disappointing, the weapon was more iron than edge. More weight than sharpness. Every time she used it she was reminded that people who fought with swords for a living tended to spend their lives practicing.
Still.
It looked intimidating.
And most of the time that was enough.
She gripped it tightly and watched the road.
The convoy took forever to arrive.
The sounds reached them long before the soldiers themselves.
Hooves.
Wheels.
Voices.
Metal rattling against metal.
Each minute stretched longer than the last.
Beside her, Ren was practically vibrating.
He crouched low in the brush, knife held in both hands, eyes fixed on the road ahead.
Every few seconds he adjusted his grip.
Then adjusted it again.
Then again.
The anticipation seemed physically painful for him.
"We're going to be rich," he whispered.
Lilith didn't answer.
The tingling had returned.
A familiar shiver crept up her spine.
Her shoulders twitched involuntarily.
Once.
Twice.
The feeling was stronger now.
Wrong.
Something was wrong.
The forest seemed to know it.
The shadows seemed to know it.
The sensation crawled beneath her skin.
Then the convoy appeared.
And suddenly she understood.
Not a noble.
Not a merchant.
Not guards escorting a wealthy traveler.
An army.
The first soldiers emerged from around the bend like figures from a story.
Silver-gilded armour gleamed beneath torchlight.
Blue surcoats hung from polished cuirasses.
Horses wore armor.
Caparisons draped their flanks.
Torchlight reflected from metal in dozens of places at once.
Floating orbs of light illuminated the road.
The entire procession looked unreal.
Like a painting come to life.
Like something that did not belong in Illumina.
Not here.
Not on this forgotten road.
But Lilith saw more than the armour.
The soldiers were exhausted.
Some limped.
Several had dried blood staining their clothing.
Weapons were already drawn as though they expected another fight.
Then came the wagons.
And behind the wagons—
Chains.
Prisoners.
Dozens of them.
The sight punched the air from her lungs.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
Beside her, Ren's smile vanished.
Not faded.
Vanished.
His eyes seemed to sink deeper into his face.
Across the road Frankie remained hidden behind the stump.
Motionless.
Ishamon had gone so still that for a terrifying moment Lilith genuinely couldn't tell if he was breathing.
The soldiers reached the fallen tree.
Immediately the road filled with annoyed shouting.
Orders.
Complaints.
Arguments.
Several dismounted.
They approached the trunk trying to determine how much effort removing it would require.
Lilith's pulse hammered in her ears.
Leave.
Run.
Go.
Now.
But nobody moved.
One soldier stepped closer to the stump.
Too close.
Lilith saw him crouch.
His torch illuminated the splintered wood.
The clean cuts.
The marks left by the axe.
Understanding was moments away.
The soldier leaned further.
A little more.
Just one glance.
One glance behind the stump.
He would see Frankie.
Then everything would end.
Lilith opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Move.
Do something.
Anything.
The soldier began to turn.
Then—
"HEY!"
The shout exploded across the road.
Every soldier looked up at once.
Ishamon stood openly on the embankment.
His arm swung back.
A rock flew through the air.
It struck one soldier directly in the face.
The man stumbled backwards with a curse.
For a moment nobody seemed to understand what had happened.
Then chaos erupted.
Frankie reacted instantly.
She sprang from behind the stump and disappeared into the trees.
The soldiers shouted.
Several pointed.
Others began scrambling up the embankment.
Then everyone was moving.
And Lilith ran.
Not because she'd chosen to.
Because her body had already decided.
The forest swallowed her.
Branches whipped across her face.
Roots flashed beneath her feet.
The world became motion.
Nothing else.
Run.
Run.
Run.
The soldiers were shouting behind her.
The sounds echoed through the trees.
Somewhere nearby Ren was crashing through undergrowth like a man attempting to wrestle the entire forest.
She could see.
Even now.
Even in the darkness gathering beneath the pines.
Details flashed before her.
Roots.
Stones.
Branches.
Paths.
But panic ruined it.
Everything blurred together.
The forest twisted around her.
Left became right.
Up became down.
She lost all sense of direction.
Then she slammed directly into someone.
The collision knocked both of them backwards.
A scream erupted.
High.
Panicked.
Frankie.
Frankie scrambled away immediately, terror written across her face until recognition finally registered.
"Lilith!"
"It's me."
"Oh shit."
"It's me."
Frankie was breathing hard.
Eyes wide.
Terrified.
Lilith grabbed her arm.
"We have to move."
Torchlight flickered through distant trees.
Shouting.
Closer now.
Much closer.
Then something whistled through the air.
An arrow.
Except it wasn't.
The projectile curved.
Mid-flight.
Turning unnaturally.
Like it had changed its mind.
It struck Frankie in the thigh.
The impact threw her sideways.
Frankie screamed.
A raw, terrible sound.
She hit the ground clutching her leg.
Blood immediately soaked through her trousers.
"Oh gods—"
Lilith dropped beside her.
The wound was bad.
Too much blood.
Far too much.
Another arrow shot past.
A blur in the darkness.
Then a stone flew between two trees.
Lilith didn't understand.
None of it made sense.
The arrows moved wrong.
The stone had moved too fast.
Questions could wait.
She grabbed Frankie beneath the arms.
Pulled.
Lifted.
Pushed.
Move.
Just move.
Frankie cried out in pain.
Her injured leg dragged behind them.
Lilith staggered forward.
Another projectile struck nearby.
Then another.
The shouting grew louder.
She could hear horses now.
How?
How were horses in the forest?
Something hit her.
Hard.
A blunt impact slammed into the center of her back.
The force nearly folded her in half.
She stumbled forward.
An arrow clattered to the ground behind her.
The tip had shattered.
Broken.
Why?
No time.
No time.
Move.
She kept dragging Frankie.
Step after step.
The world narrowed.
Breathing.
Pain.
Blood.
Darkness.
The ground suddenly disappeared beneath her feet.
A steep hill.
She slipped.
At that exact moment another arrow struck.
This one buried itself in her shoulder.
Pain exploded down her arm.
The strength vanished from her legs.
She fell.
Frankie tumbled beside her.
Both of them rolled to the bottom.
Everything hurt.
Her shoulder burned.
Her back ached.
Her lungs refused to work properly.
Frankie wasn't screaming anymore.
That frightened Lilith far more.
Blood covered her leg.
Too much.
Far too much.
A single torch appeared above them.
One light.
Descending slowly.
The figure carrying it emerged from the darkness.
A soldier.
His bow hung across his back.
A sword rested in his hand.
His face was hidden behind a visor.
As he stepped forward, pebbles along the hillside began shifting.
Sliding toward him.
Rolling across the ground.
Gathering around his boots.
Lilith stared.
No.
No.
No.
She tried to crawl away.
Her arm screamed.
Her legs failed.
The soldier raised his sword.
The torchlight gleamed across the blade.
Frankie lay unmoving beside her.
Lilith couldn't breathe.
The sword started downward.
Then the soldier collapsed.
The impact was so sudden it took her several seconds to understand what she'd seen.
A tree branch came down across the back of his helmet.
CRACK.
The soldier dropped to one knee.
Another strike followed immediately.
CRACK.
Again.
CRACK.
Again.
CRACK.
The branch splintered apart.
The soldier toppled sideways.
Motionless.
Ishamon emerged from the darkness.
Chest heaving.
One half of the broken branch still clenched in his hand.
For a second he simply stood there staring at the body.
As though he couldn't quite believe it either.
Then he dropped the ruined wood.
Bent down.
And picked up the torch.
The flickering light illuminated his face.
Mud.
Sweat.
Blood.
Not his.
Hopefully.
A moment later another figure crashed through the brush behind him.
Ren.
"What the fuck?"
He stumbled down the hill.
"What the fuck?"
His eyes landed on Frankie.
Then on Lilith.
Then on the unconscious soldier.
Then back on Frankie.
"What the fuck?"
For once in his life, Ren appeared completely out of words.
And somehow that frightened Lilith more than the soldier had
Chapter discussion