Fires of retribution

The moisture in the air made it hard to breathe, but they were almost there. A few more hours, and they could finally relax. Thabis took responsibility for carrying Gage back to the village—he was one of his men, so he took fault for his injuries. The sun was brighter than ever, and each step felt like a hundred.

"Hey, Captain, please tell me we don't have to go back to that hellhole anytime soon," one of the scouts groaned.

Thabis couldn't hide his stale expression. "You want the truth, or a good lie to make the trip better?"

The scout sighed; his answer clear. Reaching the first marked trail was a blessing on its own. They were approximately fifteen minutes away from the village, and the humidity in the air lowered as they approached the clearing.

---

Robert had just finished his meeting with James and Eugene. It was the middle of the day, and though there was much to do, it somehow felt like nothing. He wandered aimlessly around the village, lost in thought. The village guards were opening the gates, which piqued his curiosity. Not many people left the village, aside from the lumber workers, and at this hour, they should have been on break.

Thabis came into view, drenched with sweat, carrying a man on his back. "We need a healer! Get him to Mrs. Robinson as soon as possible!" he shouted.

Robert made his way toward Thabis, wanting to know more. Who was injured? What had happened?

The guards took Gage to the Robinson home, while Thabis threw himself onto the ground, exhausted. The journey had taken a toll on him.

A shadow loomed over Thabis. "How are you holding up, my favorite scout?" Robert asked with a smirk.

"If I were your favorite, you wouldn't be sending me on back-to-back hellhole missions," Thabis muttered, not bothering to hide his irritation.

Robert was surprised by his reaction. He knew Thabis wanted a break, but he couldn't afford to let one of his best assets rest for too long. "You're the best at what you do. Until someone better comes along, you're my go-to guy," Robert said sincerely.

Thabis, hearing enough, got up and dusted the dirt off his clothes. "If you'll excuse me, I need to check on one of my scouts."

Before he could leave, Robert stopped him. "Wait. I want to know what happened. Let's talk on the way—it's selfish of me to ask, but…"

Thabis didn't mind telling Robert the details; he was heading to the healer anyway. "Alright, let's get moving."

As they walked, Thabis recounted the mission—the cave, the intense battle, and the prisoner they captured.

"You always end up in the craziest situations," Robert said, trying to lighten the mood.

"I wish things would go smoothly. We can't afford any casualties, especially now that we're planning on expanding," Thabis replied, his tone heavy with responsibility.

They finally reached the Robinson home, where a group of soldiers surrounded the entrance. Shouts could be heard from inside. The guards recognized them and let them in without question.

Martha paced around the room, mixing herbs together, desperate to find a solution for Gage's condition. The substance in the dart had paralyzed him.

"Is there anything we can do to help, Mrs. Martha?" Robert asked eagerly.

Martha shook her head grimly. "I don't think there's much you can do. I don't know what was used to make the dart. Unless you can get that information, I'm afraid there's nothing more I can try."

Robert glanced at Gage, who lay on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. For him, life already seemed over.

"We have the prisoner," Thabis suggested. "Maybe there's someone in the village who can communicate with him."

Robert clenched his fists, angry at himself for even thinking of giving up. He wasn't going to let one of his men die. "Thabis, take some time off. I'll handle this. You've done more than enough."

Thabis wanted to argue but saw the determined look on Robert's face. He wouldn't budge. "Alright, I'll take a break, but if you figure anything out, come find me right away."

"You'll be the first to know," Robert assured him as he headed to the barracks where the prisoner was likely being held.

---

Thabis trudged home, a small house he barely spent time in. It was simple and cozy, which was exactly why he'd chosen it—it gave him peace of mind. His bed was the first thing on his mind as he stepped inside. Without hesitation, he threw himself onto it, his back aching from carrying Gage. Maybe now he could get a couple of good hours of sleep.

Before he could close his eyes, a knock sounded at the door. He groaned. Could he ever catch a break? He dragged himself to the door and opened it, irritated—until he saw Elia. His mood instantly shifted. How could he be angry at such a beautiful face?

"What brings you here, Elia?" Thabis asked, staring into her eyes.

"I saw some of the scouts return, so I thought I'd check up on you," she said with a gentle smile.

Those words brought a grin to his face. He was starting to like her more every time they spoke. "Make yourself at home. It's small, though, I'll warn you."

Elia walked in and sat on his bed, while Thabis stood, unsure if she was comfortable. "Come sit. It's your bed," she said, patting the space next to her.

Thabis wasn't one to refuse an invitation. As he sat down, Elia continued, "I heard what happened to Gage. It's terrible to see one of our own go down like that."

Thabis was surprised she knew. He was certain the scouts weren't ones to gossip. "Yeah, it's awful. I can't help but blame myself. My gut told me to be more aware, but I didn't listen."

Elia placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault. We're human. We make mistakes."

Thabis smiled. Her touch was comforting, and they spent the next few hours talking and catching up.

---

Meanwhile, Robert had finally made it to the barracks. He rushed inside, looking for the prisoner, but found soldiers laughing and joking instead.

"Where's the prisoner?" he shouted.

The room fell silent. One of the men pointed outside, toward the training dummies.

Robert marched over and found Sabas and Thornton trying to communicate with the tribesman. All the prisoner would say was, "Shin ta hoo fe fua."

"He hasn't said anything else?" Robert asked, approaching them.

"No, he keeps repeating the same phrase. Almost like a chant," Sabas replied, frustration clear in his voice. "The scouts said he's been saying it since they captured him."

Robert was tired of the same phrase. He stormed over to the prisoner and grabbed him by the neck. "Tell me what you put in the dart, you bastard!"

Sabas quickly pulled him back. "That's not going to help. If anything, you're making it worse."

Thornton nodded in agreement, and Robert sighed. "I'm sorry. Just… it brought up old memories."

Sabas knew what Robert was referring to—the young spearman, Daniel, who had lost his life to the tribesmen.

Suddenly, the prisoner stopped chanting. His eyes grew wide, and he began shaking frantically. "Yutgta ilopty kijhuy tara," he muttered, trembling.

"What the hell is wrong with him?" Thornton asked, worry creeping into his voice.

"Must have gone crazy," Robert said, scratching his head.

The more the tribesman repeated the phrase, the faster he shook. His tattoos began to glow before Thornton knocked him out cold.

"Don't look at me like that—I'm not taking any chances," Thornton said, wiping his fist on his clothes.

---

On the edge of the village, hidden among the trees, eyes watched. They had heard the chant, and it led them here. Seeing one of their own held captive, their faces twisted with anger. A tribesman in the trees raised his blowpipe and fired a dart at the guard on the watchtower.

Using the cover of darkness, they snuck into the village, setting fire to anything they saw. One villager, out for a late walk, spotted them and ran screaming, "We're under attack! We're under attack!"

Before he could make it to safety, a spear lodged itself in his chest.

---

Robert heard the scream echo through the village, a chilling sound that sent a jolt of adrenaline through his body. His heart raced as he sprinted toward the barracks door, his instincts screaming danger. But just as his hand reached for the latch, the sky lit up with an eerie glow.

Without warning, a fireball tore through the air like a comet, smashing into the ground just feet away from him. The impact sent him flying, the shockwave knocking the breath from his lungs. He landed hard on his back, dazed and gasping for air as the world spun around him.