Chapter 12 – The Choice of Fire
The door creaked open.
A faint glow spilled from within, brushing against Laura's exhausted face. A woman stood in the doorway — the midwife. Her hair was loosely tied, eyes sharp despite the late hour.
> "Laura…?" she whispered, disbelief and worry mingling in her voice. "By the stars, what happened?"
Laura didn't answer at first. Her arms trembled as she carefully stretched the little bundle she carried. The midwife hurried forward, taking the child gently from her arms.
The baby — Joshua — stirred, a faint sound escaping his lips. The midwife held him close, her eyes softening.
> "He's burning up," she murmured. "You've been running for miles."
Laura nodded weakly, a sad smile ghosting across her lips. "He's strong. He takes after his father."
The midwife looked at her closely, noticing the blood streaks along her arm, the fatigue in her steps. "You shouldn't be using this much energy, Laura. You gave birth barely a week ago. Your body isn't ready for this."
But Laura shook her head slowly.
Her eyes — tired but fierce — glimmered under the faint light.
> "Grey stayed behind to hold them off," she said quietly. "I can't just sit here while he fights alone."
The midwife frowned, clutching Joshua tighter. "You won't make it far in this state.
You've lost too much strength — you'll collapse before you even reach the woods again. Please… rest. Let me send for help."
Laura smiled, but there was no peace in it — only pain and resolve.
> "If I rest, he dies. And if I die out there… at least Joshua will live."
"Laura—!" the midwife started, but it was too late.
Laura turned away.
Her cloak swayed softly as she stepped into the cold night once more.
One step
Two.
Three.
She stopped.
The air shifted.
A faint hum — almost like a whisper of thunder — cut through the stillness.
Then light tore through the dark.
A beam of pure energy slammed into the ground beside her, exploding in a flash that scorched the soil.
Laura leapt back instinctively, her eyes snapping toward the rooftops.
Smoke curled. The air vibrated.
From the darkness above, the shadow descended — the same one that had crept toward her before.
Its movements were swift, unnatural, almost gliding as it dropped soundlessly onto the path.
Laura's hand shot to her side, gripping the curved blade hidden beneath her cloak. The faint light caught its edge as she drew it out.
> "So you followed me here…" she whispered, voice low, dangerous.
The figure tilted its head — eyes gleaming faintly beneath the hood. No words. No sound. Just the faint crackle of energy dancing across its hands.
Laura's breath steadied. Her pain, her exhaustion, her fear — all of it vanished beneath the weight of something sharper.
Determination.
> "You picked the wrong night."
The figure lunged — a streak of light in the dark — and the clash began.