Chapter 19: The Shadow of the Empire

The streets of Halthor had changed. What was once a simmering undercurrent of unrest had turned into a palpable tension, thick and oppressive. Nyra felt it in every corner, in every glance exchanged between citizens. The rebellion had struck, but the Empire had struck back even harder.

She stood in the shadow of a crumbling building, watching as an Imperial patrol marched through the market square. Their armor gleamed in the pale light of morning, their footsteps heavy and deliberate. People scurried out of their way, heads bowed, eyes downcast. Nyra's hand tightened around the hilt of the dagger hidden beneath her cloak. She had never felt so helpless, so torn.

They had won a small victory with the sabotage of the supply convoy. But in the days since, Captain Idris had unleashed a wave of terror on the city. His message was clear: defy the Empire, and you will pay.

A scream echoed from the far side of the square, drawing her attention. Nyra's heart clenched as she saw a group of soldiers dragging a man from his home. His wife stood nearby, crying out for mercy, but the soldiers ignored her. The man was thrown to the ground, his hands bound behind him, his face bruised and bloodied.

A lump formed in Nyra's throat as she recognized the man. He was one of the merchants who had quietly aided the rebellion, passing information about the Empire's movements in exchange for protection. Now, his loyalty had cost him everything.

"This is what Idris does," a voice said quietly beside her.

Nyra turned to see Lyra standing next to her, her expression grim. Lyra's sharp eyes were fixed on the scene unfolding before them, but there was no surprise in her gaze—only a hardened understanding of the world they lived in.

"They're rounding people up," Nyra said, her voice low, barely containing the anger that boiled beneath her skin. "Anyone they think is helping us."

Lyra nodded. "Idris knows how to inspire fear. It's not just about punishing the rebels—it's about reminding the people of Halthor who's in control."

Nyra's chest tightened as she watched the soldiers drag the merchant away, his wife collapsing to the ground in despair. The urge to act, to fight, burned inside her. She wanted to strike back, to stop this madness. But she knew they weren't ready for a full-scale confrontation with Idris's forces. Not yet.

"We need to get out of here," Lyra said, her voice calm but firm. "They're looking for rebel sympathizers. We can't afford to be caught."

Nyra hesitated for a moment, her gaze lingering on the man being hauled away. Then she nodded, turning to follow Lyra through the narrow alleys and side streets of the city. The weight of her decision settled heavily on her shoulders.

The tavern was tense when they returned. The small back room where the rebels gathered was filled with murmurs of frustration, arguments rising and falling as the group debated their next move. Myk's deep voice cut through the noise, his tone as heated as ever.

"We can't just sit here and let Idris do this to us!" Myk slammed his fist on the table, causing the few remaining mugs of ale to rattle. "We've already shown them we can fight. We need to hit back. Hard."

"And get more of our people killed?" snapped one of the older rebels, a cautious man who had been part of the rebellion since the beginning. His name was Revin, and his voice always carried the weight of experience, though not everyone appreciated it. "We lost good fighters in that last raid, and the city's paying the price. We push Idris any further, and he'll burn this place to the ground."

Myk bristled, his fists clenching at his sides. "So what, you want us to hide like rats while they drag people into the streets?"

Revin glared back at him, but before he could respond, Lyra stepped forward, her calm voice slicing through the tension. "We all know what's happening out there. Idris is tightening his grip. But we need to think strategically. Charging in blindly will only get more people killed."

Nyra stood near the doorway, listening to the back-and-forth, feeling the weight of their arguments pressing down on her. The rebellion was fracturing under the pressure, split between those who wanted to act now and those who believed they needed to bide their time. She understood both sides, but she didn't know where she stood.

"They're already killing people," Nyra said quietly, her voice cutting into the conversation. The room turned to face her, the arguments fading into silence. "They've arrested dozens, and it's only going to get worse. We can't just wait for Idris to crush us."

Revin's eyes narrowed, his voice sharp. "And what would you have us do, Nyra? Rush into another battle we can't win?"

Nyra met his gaze, refusing to back down. "No. But we need to show people that we're still here. That we're not broken."

Myk grinned, his rough voice filled with approval. "Now that's what I'm talking about."

But Revin wasn't convinced. "You've got heart, girl. But heart won't stop Idris."

Before Nyra could respond, the door to the back room swung open, and a young rebel burst inside, his face pale with fear. "They've taken Saris."

In the days prior to this meeting, Nyra had told them to keep an eye on someone dark hair, thin but lean, older—to keep an eye on Saris. She explained what her relationship with Saris was, the woman's skills and how she had taught Nyra everything she knew about surviving in Halthor. The rebels had listened, some agreeing to watch for her, though none could promise they would succeed—since she's quick with her feet but they'll try their best

Though they had parted with some bad blood between them, Nyra still held a soft spot for Saris, which is why when she heard the news...

Nyra's heart stopped.

"What?" she demanded, her voice barely above a whisper.

The young rebel nodded, his eyes wide. "They arrested her this morning. She was caught outside the city walls, trying to avoid the patrols. The Empire thinks she's working with the rebellion."

Nyra's blood ran cold. Saris. Her mentor, her friend—the one person who had taught her how to survive when she was nothing but a street rat. She had helped Nyra more than once, even if begrudgingly. And now, because of Nyra's involvement, she was about to pay the price.

"They're going to execute her," the young rebel continued. "Publicly. Tomorrow."

The room fell silent, all eyes turning to Nyra. She could feel their gazes, the weight of their expectations pressing down on her. They wanted to know what she would do. What decision she would make.

"We have to rescue her," Myk said firmly, standing by Nyra's side. "We can't let them kill her."

Revin shook his head, his expression grim. "It's a trap. Idris knows we'll come for her. He's waiting for us to make a move."

Nyra's heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing. Revin was right. This was exactly the kind of trap Idris would set—lure them out with a public execution, then crush them when they tried to fight back. But Saris…

She couldn't let her die. Not like this. Not for something that wasn't her fault.

But how many more would die if she led them into another disaster?