Raven's POV
Riyan's palm glowed with concentrated heat, mana compressed into a beam so focused it resembled a laser more than traditional flame. The technique was desperate—something no ten-year-old should be capable of executing, but fear had a way of shattering limitations.
He thrust his hand forward, and the focused beam struck the door's center. Metal groaned under the assault, paint blistering and charring as the acrid smell of melting iron filled our confined space. Slowly, agonizingly, a hole began to form—small, smoking, its edges glowing dull red.
When it was finally large enough, Riyan sagged against the wall, sweat dripping down his face. The effort had drained him completely.
"Don't make noise," he whispered, barely audible. "Suppress your mana completely. If he senses us..."
I nodded, understanding immediately. We both drew our energy inward, coiling it tight where detection would be harder. The technique made us feel hollow, diminished—but it was necessary.
We squeezed through the opening one at a time, the still-warm metal edges brushing our clothes. On the other side lay a basement—dank, dark, smelling of mildew and concrete. A single staircase led upward. No windows. No other exits. Just that single path to whatever lay above.
Each step on those wooden stairs seemed to echo like thunder despite our careful movements. The darkness clung to us, and I fought the urge to conjure light, knowing it would betray us instantly.
We emerged onto a bare corridor—gray walls, concrete floors, harsh industrial lighting. Two doors stood at the corridor's end, identical and unmarked.
I caught Riyan's attention, miming silently: *One of these rooms holds him. Move past quickly.*
We crept forward with agonizing slowness. Every instinct screamed to run, but running meant noise, and noise meant discovery.
The passage opened into a main hall—faded grandeur, a crystal chandelier with half its bulbs dead, cracked marble floors, ornate moldings thick with dust. This had been someone's home once, before abandonment and darker purposes.
The main door stood ahead—solid oak with iron reinforcements. Our exit.
Riyan reached it first. The handle didn't budge.
Locked.
Terror crystallized in my chest. Trapped between a locked exit and a captor who could emerge any moment.
"Use your aura," I whispered. "Manipulate the lock. You can do it."
Riyan placed both hands against the lock, aura flowing in invisible currents. I watched, feeling useless—my demon heritage gave me no such fine control.
Seconds stretched into eternities. Every sound made us flinch.
Then: *click*.
The lock disengaged. Riyan's hands shook as he pulled the door open.
Forest. Dense, primeval forest stretched before us, trees so thick their canopy blocked the sky. We were far from the city—somewhere remote.
"What now?" I whispered.
"Run," Riyan said urgently. "Into the forest. If we stay here, he'll catch us. In the trees, we have a chance."
His hand found mine, and we ran into the wilderness.
---
**Third Person POV - The Escape**
The forest was treacherous—roots waiting to trip feet, hidden stones, underbrush that clawed at their clothes. They crashed through with more noise than stealth, but speed mattered more now.
Branches whipped their faces. Thorns caught their hair. Their bare feet left bloody prints on the forest floor. But they didn't slow.
They ran until their lungs burned, until their legs trembled, until only their joined hands kept them moving forward.
Suddenly, Raven stumbled. Her foot caught a root and she went down hard, crying out as pain shot through her knee.
"Raven!" Riyan was there immediately, pulling her up. "Can you walk?"
She tried to put weight on the leg and gasped. Badly hurt, though not broken.
But behind them, they could hear him—crashing through the underbrush, shouting, closing in.
Their small mana containers had been slowly replenishing during their escape, enough now for perhaps one desperate move.
"Hide," Riyan whispered urgently, spotting a dense thicket. "Quickly!"
They dove into the bushes just as heavy footsteps approached. Through gaps in the foliage, they could see him—their kidnapper, his condition worse than before. His face was twisted with pain and rage, bandages soaked with blood.
His wild eyes scanned the area, and then—impossibly—they locked directly on their hiding spot.
A slow, sinister smile spread across his face.
"Looks like I have found you, Princess of Reyas, the Experimental Subject, and Prince of Asura," he crooned, his voice dripping with malice.
*He found us,* terror crashed through Raven's mind.
But Riyan was already moving. He sprang to his feet, hands raised, and unleashed a fireblast with all his recovered mana. The attack was unexpected—the man couldn't react in time. He stumbled backward, crying out in pain as flames seared his already injured body.
"Run!" Riyan grabbed Raven's hand and they fled again.
"We have only one way," Raven gasped as they ran. "We need to tire him out. Our mana is replenishing—he's seriously injured. We can use that!"
But even as she spoke, they heard him behind them—wounded but not stopped, driven by desperation and fear of his master's wrath.
Riyan and Raven exchanged a glance. They both understood what they had to do.
They focused their affinities, channeling their limited mana into a desperate combination—fire and thunder, fury and raw power merging into something greater than either alone.
The man saw it coming and tried to counter, draining his own depleted reserves in a desperate defensive spell.
The attacks collided in a blinding flash of light and thunder that boomed through the forest. For a moment, reality itself seemed to tear.
The man was sent flying, crashing to the ground with a sickening thud.
Riyan and Raven stood there, chests heaving, thinking it was finally over.
But then—impossibly—the man materialized behind Raven, his hand closing around her wrist like a vice.
She froze, paralyzed with terror.
"Asura Prince," the man gasped, blood running from his mouth. "Leave from here. My Lord doesn't want to hurt you."
Riyan's eyes blazed with fury. Without hesitation, he grabbed a massive stone from the ground and brought it crashing down on the man's head.
The grip on Raven's wrist released as the kidnapper stumbled.
"Fuck off!" Riyan snarled, his voice raw with protective rage.
And then, driven by terror and desperation and something darker—the primal need to ensure this threat could never hurt them again—they both picked up stones.
They brought them down again and again, their blows raining like a storm. The man's screams echoed through the forest, then grew fainter, then stopped.
But they didn't stop. Couldn't stop. Fear had taken hold, driving them past reason, past mercy, until the body beneath them was unrecognizable.
When they finally stopped, both children were trembling, covered in blood, their eyes hollow with what they'd done.
Raven turned to Riyan, her voice barely a whisper: "Let's go, Yan..."
It was the first time she'd used a nickname for him. Despite everything—or perhaps because of everything—the intimacy of it felt right.
Riyan's gaze met hers, and he smiled—exhausted, traumatized, but alive. "Yeah, Ven..."
Her heart skipped at the nickname he gave her in return.
They stumbled through the forest together until they saw buildings in the distance. Found a way to contact their families. And waited, hands still clasped, for rescue to arrive.
In that moment—covered in blood, traumatized beyond measure, having done terrible things to survive—Raven realized her feelings had transformed into something far more intense than childhood friendship.
---
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**Reader Poll for Next Arc:**
A) Return to present-day Academy immediately
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