The city, once vibrant with life, had turned into a battlefield of destruction. Ian and Gerude sprinted through the rubble, their breaths ragged as screams of terror mixed with the pounding footsteps of soldiers pursuing them from behind. Black smoke rose, obscuring their vision, while flames devoured what little remained of the life they once knew.

  "Ian, faster!" Gerude shouted, clutching his younger brother's hand tightly. His eyes were filled with tension, but behind it was an unyielding determination.

  "I... I can't just leave them behind," Ian murmured, glancing back for a moment, his gaze locked on the ruins of their home, now reduced to ash. It was where he had grown up with their parents, Gram and Gaia, who were now gone. Yet the sound of the soldiers closing in forced Ian to wrench his thoughts away.

  "We don't have time," Gerude said firmly. "Father and Mother sacrificed everything so we could survive. Don't let their sacrifice be in vain!"

  Ian swallowed hard and nodded slowly. With heavy steps, he followed Gerude, leaving behind bitter memories that burned like the city around them. They weaved through narrow streets littered with debris, doing their best to evade the relentless gaze of the Veldron Kingdom soldiers chasing them.

  As they turned into a narrow alley, a shadow emerged from the ruins ahead. A woman dressed in black, her long hair cascading over her shoulders, stood there, her piercing eyes radiating an aura of mystery. Gerude and Ian froze in place, their bodies tensing.

  "Elara?" Gerude's voice wavered with disbelief. The woman was someone they had met months ago—a visitor to their home who had come with dire warnings of an impending catastrophe. At the time, her words seemed like distant prophecies. Now, they had all come true.

  "Follow me," Elara commanded firmly, leaving no room for questions. "The soldiers are getting closer. We need to leave now."

  Without hesitation, Elara led them through the dark streets. Her movements were calm yet swift, as if she knew every hidden corner of the city. But their escape came to an abrupt halt when a group of armed soldiers emerged from the shadows, surrounding them. The soldiers' faces were cold, their expressions filled with murderous intent.

  "There's no way out," one of the soldiers sneered. "Surrender, or die where you stand."

  Ian clutched Gerude's arm, his body trembling. "What do we do?" he whispered in panic.

  Before Gerude could respond, Elara stepped forward. Her face remained calm, but the air around her shifted—growing cold and heavy. "Leave," she said quietly, her voice laced with a warning. "This is your final chance."

  The soldiers burst into laughter. "You think you can defeat us alone, witch?" one of them mocked.

  Elara didn't reply. Slowly, she raised her hand, and in an instant, a surge of energy erupted from her palm, striking the soldiers with immense force. A deafening blast echoed through the alley, followed by cries of agony. The soldiers were flung in all directions, some rendered unconscious immediately. One soldier remained, trembling in terror. He dropped his weapon and fled without a backward glance.

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  "We have to move now," Elara said, her voice steady, not sparing a glance at the fallen soldiers. "This is just the beginning. They'll return with reinforcements."

  Gerude took a deep breath, while Ian stood frozen, his eyes wide as he processed what had just happened. "How did you…?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.

  "There's no time for explanations," Elara cut him off, her gaze resolute. "Trust me. I'm here to protect you."

  Without wasting another moment, they resumed their journey, leaving the ravaged city behind. The sky slowly shifted from darkness to a pale, bleak dawn, but the shadows of tragedy lingered over their steps. In the silence, Ian's mind churned with unanswered questions: Who was Elara, and why was she so determined to protect them?

  When they reached the city outskirts, Elara stopped and turned to face Ian and Gerude. "Your family holds a key role in this fight," she said gravely. "But to understand everything, you must survive. This journey is only beginning."

  Ian stared at her, his eyes filled with confusion and grief. But beneath it all, a flicker of something new began to emerge—a small, fragile hope that perhaps, amidst the ruins, there was still a way to fight back. He knew he had to find the answers, not just for himself, but for his family, both those they had lost and those still shrouded in the darkness ahead.

  The night sky hung like a shroud of black velvet, swallowing everything beneath it. A biting wind swept through the air, carrying the scent of damp earth and destruction. Gerude held Ian's hand tighter. Their footprints left faint trails in the muddy path, while the burning city behind them faded into the distance. There was no time to look back. They knew only one thing: there was no going home.

  "Gerude," Ian's voice broke through the sound of the wind, barely audible. "Do you think we can really survive this? Will it ever end?"

  Gerude turned to face his younger brother, whose youthful face was etched with exhaustion and fear. "We have to. There's no other choice." His voice was firm, though it wavered slightly. "Our old world is gone, Ian. But we'll find a way. I promise."

  Ian looked down, biting his lip to hold back tears. The world he had known—the warmth of their home, their father's gentle smile, their mother's comforting embrace—all of it had vanished in flames and desperate cries. All that remained was an uncertain path forward.

  After hours of walking, they reached the edge of a towering forest. The massive trees loomed overhead, their dark silhouettes casting eerie shadows that seemed to swallow the weary travelers. Elara, ever watchful, stopped on a damp trail.

  "We rest here," she said decisively, her eyes scanning their surroundings. "But stay alert. This forest is not always kind."

  Gerude frowned, hesitant. "Here? Won't we be easier to find?"

  Elara's sharp gaze silenced him, her tone brooking no argument. "Trust me. If you keep moving without rest, your bodies will fail you before long."

  Reluctantly, Gerude nodded and began gathering branches with Ian for a small fire. Elara crouched over the pile of wood, whispering an incantation. A faint flame flickered to life, casting its soft glow over Ian's pensive face.

  Ian sat hugging his knees, staring into the weak fire. Memories surged through him—his father's laughter, his mother's hugs, the life they had lost forever. Beside him, Gerude sat silently, gazing into the flames with a vacant look.

  "Ian," Gerude finally spoke, his voice low but firm. "I know this is hard. I feel it too. But we can't give up now. We have to keep going."

  "But where, Gerude?" Ian looked at his brother, his eyes full of uncertainty. "We don't even know what we're looking for."

  Gerude sighed deeply, struggling to find the right words. "Maybe we don't know yet. But I'm sure of one thing—if we stop now, it'll all be for nothing. We have to believe there's something better ahead."

  Elara, who had been watching from a distance, stepped closer and crouched before Ian. Her sharp yet warm eyes met his, and her voice was steady but comforting. "You're not alone," she said. "Doubt is natural, but don't let it consume you. This world is cruel, but as long as you trust each other, you'll find your way."

  Ian remained silent, her words sinking in. Slowly, a glimmer of courage began to stir within him, a fragile light pushing against the darkness of his fear.