Taren gave a quick nod. “Take and follow formation?”
Rynna adjusted the sashira covering her head and nodded back. “You take the first sweep. Then Bran, then me.”
The group moved efficiently, checking their packs and weapons. Rynna’s fingers brushed against her second water skin, ensuring it was securely tied. She flexed her shoulders, loosening the tightness that had built from the long run along the canyon’s edge. Bran was busy tightening the tie of his belt, his head covering still slightly crooked.
Just as they were about to move, a sharp hiss broke the quiet.
“Ahaaaa!” Bran yelped, jumping nearly four feet into the air, arms flailing. “A snake!”
The small, sand-colored serpent coiled in the dust at their feet, its tongue flicking out as it sized up the intruders. Taren eyed the snake with mild amusement.
“You really need to work on your composure.” He circled around the creature, crouching low in an excellent execution of basic snake style before flicking his hand upward. A controlled whoosh of wind shot forward, lifting the beast off the ground and sending it spiraling out into the desert.
Rynna watched the small creature sail through the air, her heart twinging unexpectedly. She couldn’t say why; it was just a snake. She shook off the feeling and turned back to Bran, resting a hand on his shoulder.
“It's just a snake, man. Calm down.”
Bran shivered, staring after the airborne reptile. “I hate snakes.”
Taren remained silent, his eyes narrowed slightly as he gazed out toward where he’d sent the reptile flying.
Rynna squeezed Bran’s shoulder one more time, giving him a light pat before pulling her hand away. “Let’s move.”
Without another word, the three of them fell into formation, slipping back into the rhythm of the mission. They ran for over an hour, their soft-soled boots barely stirring the fine, sunbaked sand beneath their feet. Sparse patches of brittle scrub clung to the rocky outcrops, their dry branches crackling as the wind swept through the barren landscape. The desert stretched endlessly before them. It was sun, sand, and rock as far as the eye could see.
Every now and then, a flash of light flickered in the distance, followed by the bangs of Hollow-born clashing. Elemental blasts cracked the air, but they kept their distance, carefully avoiding any potential skirmishes. Rynna’s eyes narrowed, scanning the endlessexpanse of desert. The longer they ran, the more her worry gnawed at her. They needed cover, somewhere to rest before the sun drained them completely.
Then, just as she was about to signal for them to slow, a sharp, rising whistle echoed from ahead. Bran’s signal.
Rynna halted mid-stride, exchanging a quick glance with Taren before taking a wide, cautious route around to where Bran should be. She slipped between towering rock formations, her feet barely touching the ground as she looped through the maze of stone, ensuring they weren’t being watched.
“Hurry!” Bran yelled as he lay sprawled on his belly, half his body dangling over the edge of the canyon.
“Don’t let go! Please don’t let go!” a panicked voice cried from somewhere below, echoing off the canyon walls.
Rynna stepped forward, but Taren’s hand reached out, gripping her shirt before she could get any closer. “Wait!” he hissed. “It could be a trap.”
“It’s not!” Bran twisted to look over his shoulder, his face pale with strain. “Half his leg is gone, and he’s losing blood by the bucket! Get over here and help me!”
Rynna exchanged a quick glance with Taren, and they both rushed forward, closing the gap in seconds. Rynna dropped to her knees beside Bran, peering over the edge.
It wasn’t a trap.
Below, a boy wearing a medallion from Tide Reach clung desperately to Bran’s arm, his wide eyes frantic. The torn remains of his leg dangled lifelessly below him, a shredded mess of blood and muscle.
“Pull him up!” Taren threw himself down beside them and grabbed the boy’s other arm.
“I can’t!” Bran grunted through gritted teeth. “Something’s got him! Source ropes or something. He’s stuck!”
“Please,” the boy whimpered, his face ghostly pale. “Please, I don’t want to die.”
Rynna squinted, her gaze sweeping over the boy’s body until she spotted a faint glow along his waist. Source bindings, barely visible.
“There!” She unsheathed her swords and, without hesitation, stepped lightly over the canyon’s edge, pressing her body against the rough rock wall. Clinging to the stone, her boots scraped the surface as she inched closer to the glowing threads.
In a single motion, she slashed a hand, and the Source ropes snapped, flickering out of existence.
“Got it!” Rynna called, swinging herself back up.
