Chapter 18: The Mission: Sabotage and Survival

The room fell silent again as the rebels considered the plan. Finally, Lyra looked at Nyra, her gaze sharp. "You're leading this mission. If it fails, it's on you."

Nyra's chest tightened, the weight of leadership settling on her shoulders. But she didn't flinch. She had trained for this. She was ready.

"I'll get it done," she said firmly.

***

The night was cold, the wind cutting through the trees as Nyra led the small team through the outskirts of Halthor. The shadows stretched long in the moonlight, and the silence was broken only by the soft rustle of leaves beneath their feet. Myk, Tyrn, and a few other rebels followed her closely, their faces grim with determination.

They had scouted the supply route earlier that day, watching as the Imperial convoy made its way down the narrow road. It wasn't heavily guarded—just a handful of soldiers escorting wagons loaded with food and weapons. But it was still enough to be dangerous.

Nyra crouched behind a thick tree, her heart racing as she signaled for the others to stop. The convoy was just ahead, its wagons creaking under the weight of the supplies. The guards walked alongside, their armor clinking softly in the night.

"We need to be fast," Nyra whispered, her voice barely audible. "We take out the guards quietly, steal what we can, and disappear before anyone notices."

Myk grinned, his large hands flexing around the hilt of his sword. "Quietly isn't really my style."

Nyra shot him a look, but couldn't help the faint smile that tugged at her lips. "Just try not to wake the whole city."

Tyrn moved ahead silently, his bow already in hand. He was the best tracker they had, and his ability to move through the shadows unseen was unmatched. As Nyra watched him slip into the darkness, her heart pounded with anticipation.

The plan was simple. Take out the guards before they could sound the alarm, steal what they needed, and disappear into the night. But plans rarely went perfectly.

Nyra's breath caught as Tyrn's arrow flew through the air, striking the first guard cleanly in the throat. The man crumpled to the ground without a sound, his body disappearing into the shadows. Myk moved next, his sword flashing as he took down another guard, his movements surprisingly quiet for a man of his size.

The rest of the team followed suit, and within moments, the guards were down. The convoy was theirs.

"Move fast," Nyra ordered, her voice low but firm. "Take what we can carry and get out."

The rebels moved quickly, loading sacks of food and crates of weapons onto their backs. Nyra helped them, her heart racing as she glanced around, waiting for the sound of approaching soldiers. They had to move quickly—if they stayed too long, they'd be caught.

But just as they were finishing, a shout rang out in the distance.

"Imperial patrol!" Tyrn hissed, his eyes sharp. "We've got company."

Nyra's heart pounded as she turned to the others. "Get out of here. Now."

The rebels scattered, melting into the trees as the sound of approaching soldiers grew louder. Nyra grabbed the nearest sack of supplies, slinging it over her shoulder as she sprinted into the darkness, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

The patrol was close—too close. She could hear the clank of armor, the shouts of soldiers as they realized the convoy had been hit. Her heart raced as she pushed herself faster, her legs burning as she ran through the underbrush.

Just as she thought they might make it, a figure loomed ahead, blocking her path. An Imperial soldier, his sword gleaming in the moonlight.

Nyra skidded to a stop, her hand flying to the hilt of her sword. The soldier lunged at her, his blade flashing through the air. Nyra barely dodged, her instincts kicking in as she swung her sword in a wide arc, deflecting his strike.

The fight was quick, brutal. Nyra's training with Braxton had sharpened her reflexes, and she moved with precision, her sword slicing through the soldier's defenses. With a final, desperate strike, she took him down, his body crumpling to the ground.

But there wasn't time to breathe. More soldiers were coming.

"Nyra!" Myk's voice called out from the trees, his large form barely visible in the shadows. "This way!"

Nyra ran, her heart pounding as she followed Myk into the darkness. They didn't stop until the sound of the soldiers had faded into the distance, their breath coming in ragged gasps as they collapsed against a tree.

"We did it," Myk said, grinning despite the exhaustion in his voice. "We actually did it."

Nyra nodded, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. The mission had been risky—too risky—but they had pulled it off. They had taken supplies from the Empire, and they had escaped.

But as Nyra sat there, the weight of the mission settling on her shoulders, she couldn't help but think of Braxton's warning.

This was just the beginning. And the real battle was still to come.

***

The rebels regrouped back at the tavern, their faces tired but triumphant. The supplies they had stolen were laid out on the table, and for the first time since the failed raid, there was a sense of hope in the air.

"We needed this," Myk said, his voice filled with satisfaction as he looked at the weapons they had taken. "This will make a difference."

Lyra nodded, her gaze shifting to Nyra. "You led well. We wouldn't have pulled it off without you."

Nyra felt a swell of pride, but it was tempered by the weight of the responsibility she now carried. The mission had been a success, but it hadn't been easy. And it hadn't been without risk.

Braxton's words echoed in her mind: Leadership comes with a cost.

But as she looked at the faces of the rebels around her, she knew that this was the path she had chosen. She had taken her first step as a leader, and there was no turning back.