The second night fell heavy and tense.
Dark clouds swallowed the moon, and every torch along the inner wall hissed as damp air thickened around the fortress-village.
Ansh sat cross-legged near the cedar tree where they'd played that morning, Daav crouched warm and bright on his shoulder.
His eyes kept darting toward the black mountains.
Somewhere out there, the giant ents were waking.
Ashwini hugged her knees, chin resting on folded arms. She looked so small now, the steady leader from the Spirit Forest replaced by a quiet, watchful child.
Vijay paced, lips pressed thin.
"They'll come," he muttered. "I can feel it."
"They always come," Ansh answered, voice barely above a whisper.
From the village homes came faint sounds—doors barred, shutters slammed, parents pulling their children close. Everyone waited.
Then it began.
A low rumble, like distant thunder.
The earth trembled.
Somewhere a bell clanged.
"They're here!" a villager shouted.
Chaos erupted.
Men and women rushed to the walls with spears and oil lamps, faces pale but determined.
Ashwini, Ansh, and Vijay ran with them, hearts hammering.
The first mountain ent loomed from the darkness—twenty feet of twisting bark and jagged limbs. Its glowing eyes swept over the fortress, and with a roar like tearing stone it charged.
The children joined the defenders without a word.
Ashwini planted her feet and flung her arms wide. Roots burst from the cobblestones, snaring the creature's ankle. "Hold it!" she shouted, voice high but fierce.
Vijay summoned a sharp gust of wind, then hardened the ground beneath the villagers into a rough stone barricade.
"Stay back!" he called.
Daav streaked upward, leaving a trail of embers, and spat fire into the ent's wooden shoulder.
Ansh gripped his sword and ran to help a man who'd fallen, the weight of the blade almost too heavy but his grip steady.
For a heartbeat it seemed they might hold.
A second ent crashed into the outer wall. Stone cracked like eggshells.
Screams split the air.
Through the spray of rubble, a single massive branch swung inward, striking the inner gate.
The defenders scattered.
And in that sudden chaos, Raushan appeared.
The little boy stood near the shattered gate, tiny figure frozen in the torchlight.
His round eyes were wide, feet bare on the cold stones.
"Raushan!" Ashwini gasped. She sprinted forward.
But the nearest ent had already turned, drawn to the small, motionless child.
Its glowing eyes narrowed.
"No!" Ansh yelled. He raced past Ashwini, heart hammering.
Everything happened at once.
Ashwini flung both arms skyward. From the cracked earth surged a tangle of thick vines, lashing around the ent's knees. "Over here!" she screamed, trying to drag its attention.
Daav swooped low, spitting a burst of flame across its bark-covered face.
Vijay stamped the ground; stone rippled upward into a curved shield around the boy. "Move, Ansh!" he cried.
Ansh dove through the falling dust, scooped Raushan into his arms, and ran.
The boy's small body felt feather-light but limp.
Behind them, the enraged ent roared and kicked.
Its massive leg struck the broken wall—
a thunderclap of splintering rock.
Shards exploded through the air.
One jagged stone spun like a spear and struck Raushan's head with a sickening crack.
Ansh felt the boy jerk once, then go terribly still.
He skidded behind another fallen slab, shielding Raushan with his own body as debris rained down.
"Raushan? Hey—hey, you're safe now, buddy. We're safe."
His voice trembled. "Come on… wake up."
No answer.
Ashwini stumbled to them, her face streaked with dust and tears.
Blood glistened on her sleeve where a branch had grazed her earlier, but she didn't seem to notice.
"Is he…?" Her voice cracked. She knelt, hands shaking, and pressed her ear to the boy's chest.
Nothing.
Her eyes widened. "No… no, no, no…"
Ansh hugged Raushan tighter. "It's okay. You just… fainted, right? You're tough. You'll wake up."
He shook the boy gently. "Raushan? You like races, remember? I still owe you a rematch. You have to wake up for that."
Daav landed beside them, wings low, his usual fiery glow dimmed to a faint ember.
"Wake up," Ansh whispered, his voice breaking. "Please."
Ashwini's breath hitched. Tears blurred her vision.
She had always seemed older than her seven years—calm, quick-thinking, the one who scolded and planned.
But now her small shoulders quivered; her face crumpled as the truth pressed in.
"I don't… I don't know what to do," she sobbed, clutching the boy's tiny hand. "I can't fix this. I can't—"
Her words dissolved into hiccuping cries. She looked suddenly so young, a child lost in a world far too cruel.
Vijay dropped beside them, chest heaving from his sprint.
He looked from Raushan's still face to Ansh's desperate eyes and Ashwini's tears.
"I tried to hold the shield," he said hoarsely, "I… I wasn't fast enough."
The three of them huddled together in the shadow of broken stone, the battle still raging beyond.
The roar of the ents felt distant now, muffled by the pounding of Ansh's heart.
He buried his face in Raushan's hair, whispering over and over, "Wake up, little buddy… please wake up."
But the small body in his arms remained limp and silent, the night colder than ever around them.