Imagine A Happy Ending

The night clung to me like a shroud, cold and unyielding. My feet were silent on the damp earth, and every step toward the mercenaries' camp felt like a betrayal of reason. But reason had no place here—not when she was still inside.

I crouched behind a thick cluster of trees, my breath shallow as I surveyed the camp. The flicker of torches cast jagged shadows on the wooden walls, and laughter drifted through the air. It wasn't joyous laughter—it was the cruel, guttural kind that gnawed at your spine.

Torvin's dagger felt heavy in my hand, the leather-wrapped hilt slick with sweat. My palms stung from burns I'd gotten back at the forge, but I ignored the pain. It didn't matter now.

I crept forward, staying low, my heart pounding louder than the rustling leaves around me.

A voice whispered behind me. "What's the plan, Kael?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin. It wasn't real—I knew it wasn't real. Torvin wasn't here. But his words, his voice—they lived in my mind now.

"Shut up," I muttered under my breath.

"What was that?" someone nearby said.

I froze. Two mercenaries stood by the gate, their faces obscured by the glow of the firepit.

"Probably the wind," one of them grunted.

The other didn't seem convinced, but he shrugged and went back to chewing on a strip of dried meat. I stayed still for what felt like hours before daring to move again.

The camp smelled like sweat, smoke, and rotting food. It turned my stomach, but I forced myself to keep moving. The central column came into view, and there she was—my mother, chained like an animal.

"Kael?"

Her voice was a faint whisper, but it cut through the noise like a blade. She'd seen me before I'd even realized I'd stepped into the open.

I ran to her side, my fingers fumbling with the iron chains. "I'm getting you out of here."

Her face was pale, her eyes hollow. "You shouldn't have come."

"I had to."

"No," she said firmly, her voice trembling. "They'll kill you."

A heavy hand landed on my shoulder, and I was yanked backward.

"Well, well," a gravelly voice said. "Looks like we've got a little rat."

The mercenary towered over me, his face twisted into a sneer. "What were you planning, boy? Heroic rescue?"

"Let him go!" my mother shouted, struggling against her bonds.

The mercenary chuckled, dragging me toward the firepit. "Oh, he's not going anywhere. Not yet."

I thrashed against his grip, but it was like fighting a stone wall.

"You're brave," he said, tossing me to the ground. "Stupid, but brave. I can respect that."

He drew a knife, its blade glinting in the firelight. "But bravery won't save you."

The air shifted before I saw it—the heat, the glow. Flames erupted at the edge of the camp, spreading faster than seemed possible.

"What the—?" the mercenary started, but the roar of the fire drowned out his words.

Chaos descended. Mercenaries shouted, scrambling to grab weapons, supplies—anything they could carry.

I used the distraction to crawl back to my mother. The flames were closing in, the heat searing my skin.

"I'll cut you free," I said, grabbing the dagger.

"No, Kael," she said, her voice steady despite the firestorm around us. "You have to leave."

"I'm not leaving you!"

"You must," she insisted, her eyes locking onto mine. "If you stay, we both die."

Her words froze me. The fire was a living thing now, consuming everything in its path.

"Go!" she shouted, tears streaming down her face.

"I'll come back for you," I promised, my voice breaking.

She smiled—a sad, fragile smile. "I know."

I stumbled to my feet, the flames licking at my heels.

"Run, Kael!" she screamed as the column began to splinter and collapse.

I ran.

When I reached the treeline, I collapsed to my knees, gasping for air. The camp was a blazing inferno behind me, and her screams still echoed in my ears.

I couldn't save her.

The guilt was a weight that threatened to crush me, but something else pulled at my mind. The symbol—the same one I'd seen in the forge, in my dreams. It was carved into a tree, glowing faintly in the firelight.

It wasn't an accident. It wasn't random.

"What do you want from me?" I whispered, my voice shaking.

The symbol gave no answer, but I felt its presence—cold, unyielding, and full of purpose.

I didn't know why it was following me or what it meant, but I knew one thing.

This was far from over.