A Shattered Reflection

Flames and shadows was like dancers in the forest. But for Sarah world had shrunk down to a single point of pain, the searing burn in her side where Lisa's—no, Namaah's—blade had cut deep.

She lay on the ground, struggling to breathe, each inhalation a battle against the sharp, stabbing sensation in her ribs. The wound wasn't deep enough to kill her, but it was enough to keep her teetering on the edge of consciousness, her mind slipping in and out of a haze.

She heard voices—familiar ones, David's among them—but they felt distant, like echoes in a vast, empty space. The words were muffled, their meanings lost in the throbbing of her wound and the cold, creeping fear that had taken root in her chest.

"Sarah! Sarah, stay with me!"

David's voice cut through the fog, sharper and more insistent than the rest. She wanted to respond, to tell him she was still here, still fighting, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, her mind drifted back to a different time, a different place—before the island, before the nightmare.

She was back in her apartment, the one with the small balcony overlooking the busy city streets. The air was filled with the sounds of life—cars honking, people chatting, the distant hum of a city that never slept. She could smell the coffee brewing in the kitchen, the aroma mingling with the faint scent of rain that always lingered after a summer storm.

Sarah remembered sitting by the window, a cup of coffee in her hands, watching the world go by. Back then, her biggest worry had been whether she'd get that promotion at work, or if she'd have enough time to visit her parents that weekend. Life had been simple, predictable, safe.

How naïve she had been.

She had always been the cautious one, the planner, the person who thought things through before making a move. But that caution had been stripped away the moment she had arrived on the island. Here, there was no time to plan, no room for second-guessing. It was kill or be killed, and she had learned that lesson the hard way.

She thought of James, his face flashing before her eyes. The memory of his death was a fresh wound, as raw and painful as the cut on her side. They hadn't been able to save him, and now… now she was the one on the brink of death. Would she die here, just like him? Would she be another casualty of this cruel, unforgiving place?

"Sarah, look at me!" David's voice was closer now, pulling her back to the present. She forced her eyes open, blinking against the harsh light of the flames still flickering in the distance. David's face came into focus, his expression a mix of worry and determination. He looked older, more worn, as if the island had aged him years in just a few weeks.

"I'm here," she whispered, her voice barely audible. She saw the relief wash over him, but it was fleeting, quickly replaced by the same grim resolve that had kept them all alive this long.

"Good," he said, his tone firm but gentle. "Stay with me, okay? We're going to get through this."

Sarah wanted to believe him, but doubt gnawed at her. She was tired—so tired of fighting, of running, of losing people she cared about. But as she looked into David's eyes, she saw something that sparked a small flame of hope inside her. He wasn't just saying it to comfort her; he truly believed it. And that belief, that unyielding determination, was enough to give her strength.

She took a shaky breath, wincing at the pain, but she forced herself to focus. "David… promise me something."

"What is it?" David asked, his eyes locked onto hers, his voice steady.

"Promise me… promise me you'll stay human, David," she said, her voice trembling. "No matter what happens on this island, no matter how powerful you become… don't lose yourself. Don't forget who you are, where you came from. Stay human."

David's breath caught in his throat. He hadn't expected this, but he could see the desperation in her eyes. She was asking him to hold onto the one thing that the island threatened to strip away—his humanity.

"I promise, Sarah," he said, his voice soft but resolute. "I won't forget."

A weak smile tugged at Sarah's lips. "Good," she whispered, her strength fading. "Now, come closer… just a little."

David leaned in, his heart aching with the knowledge of how fragile she was in this moment. And then, to his surprise, Sarah lifted her head slightly and pressed her lips to his. It was a gentle, fleeting kiss, but it held all the emotion she couldn't put into words.

As she pulled back, her eyes fluttered closed, and she slipped into unconsciousness, her body finally giving in to the overwhelming pain.

"Sarah!" David's voice was filled with panic as he caught her, lowering her gently to the ground.

Marcus arrived just in time, his expression grim as he knelt beside them. He placed a hand on Sarah's forehead, his brow furrowing as he used his magic to assess her condition.

"It's black magic, cursed weapon" Marcus said, his voice tight. "She's in a coma. We need to get her to Lumera quickly. There are powerful healers there—White Temple or Green Temple players—who can help her. I can't do it alone."

David's heart sank, but he nodded, his resolve hardening. "Then we'll get her there. Whatever it takes."

With that promise, the next phase of their journey began—not just a fight for survival, but a race against time to save someone they all cared about.