Redacción
The savanna was burning.
Not always in living flames. Sometimes it was simply distant screams, stampedes that thundered across the grasslands for miles, or thick columns of smoke rising behind the hills.
But the breath of war permeated every corner.
Territories changed hands under the cover of night. The boundaries that had kept the various races separated for generations were beginning to vanish amid the violence. A patrol disappeared without a trace. A hunting party ventured too far beyond its borders. Someone retaliated by bathing the earth in blood.
And at dawn, the cycle began again.
There was no peaceful night.
No safe perimeter.
Rest was a fantasy.
The first warning came with the sudden silence of the insects.
Lusian abruptly raised his head.
The savanna's usual symphony died away in an instant. Among the tall golden grasses, several silhouettes moved stealthily against the light.
Too coordinated to be wild beasts.
Too fast to be mere scouts.
"Contact," Lusian murmured.
A spear tore through the air at tremendous speed. It was not meant to claim a life; it was meant to test the group's reaction and reflexes.
Lusian's tide of shadows reacted before he even had to rise. A razor-sharp dark spike erupted from the ground, splitting the wooden shaft in midair. The fragments fell to the ground several meters away.
At that instant, the ambush erupted.
Hyena demi-humans wearing crude armor burst from the left flank, baring their drooling jaws as they charged. From a rocky rise, several baboon warriors leaped down wielding spears and heavy clubs, their guttural cries orchestrating the assault.
They were not a large force.
But they knew the terrain like the back of their hands.
Kara surged forward in a blur. Her greatsword carved a massive arc through the air. The first hyena barely had time to raise its leather shield before the impact sent it violently crashing to the ground. Spinning with feline agility, Kara knocked a second creature's thrust aside.
Adela let out a sharp whistle.
Her white tiger sprang forward. The moment its claws struck the ground, a blanket of frost instantly spread across the grass. One baboon lost its footing on the slippery surface just as the feline's jaws snapped shut mere inches away.
Elizabeth raised one hand, her expression serene.
A bluish bolt descended vertically in the midst of three attackers. There was no spectacular explosion—only three bodies collapsing at the same time, struck down instantly.
Lusian stepped forward.
Liquid darkness spread across the ground from his boots. One of the baboons let out a scream when he realized too late that something was emerging from behind him. A black shadow spear pierced straight through his chest. His body crumpled lifelessly.
Another attacker attempted to catch Lusian off guard from behind.
The shadow reacted before he even turned. A sharp lash wrapped around the aggressor and hurled him several meters backward, smashing him violently against the rocks.
Dayana did not even bother chasing the survivors who fled.
She drove her nails into the damp earth and channeled a thread of dark mana. One of the fallen began to rise with jerky movements. The wounded hyena looked around with a vacant stare, just before the light in its eyes went out completely. Without making a sound, the creature lunged at one of its own comrades.
The chaos shattered in an instant.
The hyenas were the first to break ranks and retreat at a run; the baboons followed close behind, screeching in confusion. In less than a minute, the ambush had been completely neutralized.
Only corpses, trails of blood, and abandoned crude weapons remained across the golden grass. Another reason not to linger in that place.
Lusian remained motionless for several seconds. He stared toward the horizon, then looked down at the ground, and finally examined his group.
Everyone was alive.
That was all that mattered.
And yet, he could no longer even remember the last time he had been able to sit down without the urgent need to calculate who might slit their throats while they rested. Sleeping required strict watches; eating meant never taking one's eyes off the horizon. Even the most ordinary moments had become a privilege that had to be postponed indefinitely.
There was no privacy.
No respite.
No corner where it was safe to lower one's guard.
Only moving forward.
Only surviving.
While the girls and the tribe inspected the perimeter, Lusian climbed a small rocky rise. He did not ascend expecting to spot enemies; in the Zarhama savanna, enemies always found you sooner or later.
"The war is spreading," said a voice behind him.
Selvryn stood a few steps away. Lusian did not bother turning around.
"I know."
The elven captain settled down at a short distance. The initial hostility between them had faded, but trust had not blossomed in its place. They had shed blood together, crossed the same dangers, and shared entire days of nothing but survival, but none of that made them close allies.
"The eastern clans have stopped obeying the ancestral borders," Selvryn continued. "There are factions attacking settlements that have been considered sacred and untouchable for generations."
"It was only a matter of time," he replied calmly.
Selvryn studied him in profile.
"Doesn't it worry you at all?"
"It does."
"That's not the impression you give."
Lusian let out a brief, dry laugh devoid of humor.
"I'm simply tired of worrying."
Selvryn fell silent, unable to refute a single word.
Below them, the humans gathered their belongings with the solemnity of those who had made the road their only home. The children huddled close to Emily, seeking a sense of calm in her light; Kara rubbed a cloth against the steel of her greatsword in rhythmic strokes; Adela whispered words in an ancient dialect to the white tiger, which nodded with its head resting on its paws.
Everyone was preparing to walk again.
As always.
"You're not planning to stay," Selvryn said.
"No."
"Where will you go?"
Lusian raised his eyes. In the distance, breaking the horizon, the mountains rose like shadowy colossi. Enormous, dark, and eternally distant.
"There."
Selvryn followed his gaze and frowned.
"The mountains aren't a refuge."
"I know."
"There are creatures that don't even bother coming down to the savanna. The weather can freeze a man to death within hours. The rocky passes remain buried beneath snow for months."
"I know."
The elf furrowed her brow, unable to hide her confusion.
"Then I don't understand."
Lusian let several seconds pass before answering, gazing at the immense golden grasslands stretching beneath his feet.
"Down here, everyone wants something," he said in a low but firm voice. "Territory. Food. Power. Revenge."
His gaze returned to the snow-capped peaks.
"Up there, nobody wants anything from us."
Selvryn opened her mouth to argue, but found no words.
"Maybe it isn't a prosperous place to live," Lusian continued. "But it might be a place where, at the very least, they'll let us try."
The elf lowered her eyes toward the dust on her boots.
"We won't be going with you."
"I already knew that."
"There are still many of our people scattered throughout the forest."
Lusian nodded without reproach.
"Then you have to go back for them."
Selvryn studied him carefully, as though trying to decipher the enigma behind his golden eyes.
"And if we return and find no one alive?"
"Then you will have done everything in your power."
She clenched her jaw bitterly.
"I don't know if that will be enough to silence the guilt."
"It never is."
A solemn silence settled between them. Selvryn turned away, adjusting the clasp of her cloak over her shoulder.
"Good luck, human."
Lusian watched her walk firmly back toward her people.
"Likewise, Captain."
Elizabeth appeared beside him a moment later, walking so silently that she seemed like another shadow. For several seconds, neither of them spoke. They simply watched the wind comb through the savanna grass.
"You're exhausted," she said softly.
Lusian slowly shook his head.
"I'm fed up."
Elizabeth glanced at him.
"With the war?"
"With all of this." He gestured toward the vast hostile landscape. "Waking up calculating who is going to attack us. Going to sleep wondering if everyone will still be breathing the next morning. Eating with one hand gripping the hilt of a weapon."
He lowered his gaze.
"I don't want to spend the rest of my life like this."
Elizabeth remained standing beside him, feeling the weight of his words.
"Then the mountains aren't an escape for you."
Lusian fixed his eyes once more on the distant peaks. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched the corner of his lips.
"No," he murmured. "They're a pause."
The wind blew hard, making the dry grass crackle. For the first time in a long while, Lusian's mind was not devising conquest strategies or calculating casualties. He simply longed to find a place where he could close a heavy stone door and know with certainty that, on the other side, no one would enter in the middle of the night to try to kill him.
Leaving the savanna was not defeat.
It was the decision to choose which battles were no longer worth fighting.