The injured elf's breathing was shallow and uneven. Snow clung to his eyelashes, and half his body was buried under a thin sheet of frost. Edward placed a hand against the wound on his side and felt the weak pulse flutter beneath his fingertips.

"Hey," Edward said softly. "Stay with us. Can you hear me?"

The elf's eyelids twitched. His lips parted, but only a faint rasp escaped.

Elarien knelt beside them, her face tight and pale. She had fought dwarves moments earlier without a second thought, but seeing one of her own bleeding like this struck deeper than any blade could. She reached out, brushed snow from the elf's cheek, and leaned close.

"Who did this?" she whispered.

The elf swallowed with effort, then forced out a broken word. "Dwarves…"

Edward and Elarien exchanged a look.

"More of them," Edward muttered. "On the surface too."

The elf trembled. His voice was faint, barely holding together. "Ambush… they came from the snow… covered armor… could not hear them. There… there were humans among them"

"Humans are working with the dwarves?" Edwards eyes widened slightly, before a deep frown settled on his face. "This is getting a lot more complicated"

Elarien on the other hand stiffened at the words. Her jaw clenched so hard Edward thought he heard her teeth creak.

"Where is everyone? Where is our group?"

The elf's eyes filled with pain before he answered. "Dead. They're… all dead."

A harsh gust of wind swept across the ledge, as if the mountain itself reacted to his words. Edward felt the cold sink deeper into his bones.

Elarien's breath hitched. She stared at the injured elf like she wanted to deny every word. "No," she whispered. "They were skilled. They would not fall so easily."

The elf squeezed his eyes shut. Blood bubbled at the edge of his lips. "They did not fall easily. But there were too many. They dragged them into the tunnels."

For the longest moment, silence fall around them.

Then, Elarien rose to her feet.

Her fingers curled around her sword hilt. Her shoulders shook with fury, not fear. The storm building inside her was visible in her eyes. She turned toward the direction of the tunnels, her voice cutting through the wind like a blade.

"I am going back. I will make them pay."

Edward grabbed her arm before she could take a single step. "Elarien, stop."

"Let go, human"

"No."

She glared at him, eyes sharp enough to slice stone.

"They killed our people. They killed my people. I need to avenge their deaths."

"I know," Edward said, tightening his grip. "I know. But look at him."

He motioned toward the elf on the ground.

"He needs treatment or he will die too."

Elarien turned her head away. "What about the others? They might still be alive."

Edward stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

"And even if they are, what will you do? Charge into tunnels full of dwarves by yourself? Those tunnels are carved for ambushes. They are prepared. You saw the size of them. You saw how many there were down there."

Her voice broke. "Then what do you want me to do?"

"Think," Edward said. "We need to tell the elven king about the tunnels. If the dwarves want to invade Valendell, then the capital is in danger right now."

Elarien's breath trembled. For a moment, she looked like she might swing at him out of pure frustration. But then her gaze drifted back to the wounded elf, and something in her hardened expression softened.

She let out a long breath. "Fine," she whispered. "But the moment he is safe, I am returning."

Edward nodded. "Then let us move."

He lifted the wounded elf carefully. The man cried out weakly, but Edward held him steady against his chest.

"Hold on," he said. "We are taking you home."

They climbed back up the slope, their boots slipping on the icy surface. Snow kept falling, thin and constant, dampening their clothes and chilling their skin. The mountain winds howled louder as if warning them to turn back.

But they kept moving.

The trail narrowed again as they ascended, and sharp rocks jutted out from the sides, forcing them to walk single file. Elarien stayed close, her eyes scanning every shadow and crack as if expecting an attack at any moment.

Edward could sense her frustration simmering beneath the surface. She moved with tense precision, every step filled with controlled anger. He knew she wanted to run back into the tunnels. He could feel the urge in her through every breath she took.

"Elarien," Edward said quietly.

"What?"

"You did the right thing."

She said nothing.

"You want revenge. I understand that. But we cannot lose ourselves to it."

Still she did not answer.

A moment later, Edward heard the faint crunch of snow behind them.

Him and Elarien froze midstep.

Another crunch.

Something heavy shifted among the rocks above.

Edward gently lowered the injured elf onto the ground and drew his sword.

Elarien followed suit.

A deep growl echoed between the cliffs.

Then a giant furred shape lunged out from behind a ridge. Its body was long and muscular, covered in dark white fur that blended with the snow. Curved horns jutted from the sides of its skull, and its breath steamed in thick clouds.

A Frost Tusker.

Its eyes locked onto them with hunger.

Elarien took a step forward, blade raised.

"I'll handle it." She said, ready to charge forward.

"No, There's no need." He said as he stretched his palm outward.

Shadows spilled outward like pools of smoke. Two tall figures rose from the darkness, their forms shaped into armored knights with long spears made of pure shadow.

The frost tusker snarled before charging at them with fullspeed.

"Attack." Edward whispered as he turned his back to the enemy.

The shadow knights sprang forward with silent ferocity. Their spears plunged into the tusker's hide as it roared in pain. The beast swiped at them, but its claws slid through their bodies like mist. One knight vaulted onto its back and drove his spear down into its spine. The other pierced its throat.

The tusker collapsed instantly.

The snow quieted.

Elarien blinked at the scene. "Your shadows have grown stronger."

Edward shrugged lightly, though inside he felt a faint spark of pride. "They needed to."

He turned back to the wounded elf and lifted him once more.

"We should move before more beasts show up."

They resumed their journey, climbing higher into the mountain. As they walked, the path opened into a high ridge, giving them a view of the land below. The world stretched in white and grey, peaks cutting into the clouds like jagged teeth. The wind here was fiercer, beating against them until their faces went numb.

Elarien hugged her arms close to her body, trying to fight against the cold. "How far do you think we are from Valendell?"

"A day, maybe two," Edward replied. "But we need to find a safer path down."

They walked along the ridge until they reached a narrow slope that zigzagged down the mountain. Edward steadied the elf on his back and began the careful descent, step by step.

As they moved lower, the snow lessened little by little. Tall pines replaced frozen cliffs, and the wind softened. The air felt more alive. Even the light seemed stronger.

But the elf in Edward's arms grew weaker.

His breathing turned ragged, while his head swayed loosely around.

Elarien walked beside them, constantly glancing at his face. Every time his breath faltered, her own paused.

At one point, she whispered, "Hold on. You cannot die now. Not after everything."

The elf had no strenght to respond.

When they reached the treeline, Edward paused beside a fallen log and let the elf rest for a moment. He checked the wound again. The bleeding had slowed but not stopped.

"We need to hurry," he said. "If we delay too long, he will not make it."

Elarien nodded fast. "Then let us go."

They pressed forward into the woods. The trees blocked the harsh wind, and the snow here was softer. Birds fluttered through the branches, and the sound of distant streams broke the oppressive silence of the mountain.

Every step became heavier as they moved deeper into the forest. Edward's arms burned from carrying the elf, but he did not put him down again. He refused to.

Hours passed.

The forest grew thicker. The sky dimmed to a late afternoon glow. Finally, as they rounded a wide bend in the trees, a familiar sight broke through the branches.

High stone walls and tall silver banners came into view, and with them, carved gates shimmered faintly with mana.

The gates of Valendell.

Elarien let out a shaky breath.

"We made it," she whispered.

Edward adjusted his grip on the wounded elf and stepped forward.

They approached the great gates of the elven capital, ready for what's to come.

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