True Madness

In the shadow-draped cavern, a hushed tranquility settled over Eliss as she leaned against Amukelo, her head resting gently on his shoulder. Despite the chaos that had just unfolded, being next to him sparked a small oasis of peace in the midst of their tumultuous reality. Exhaustion from the day's emotional and physical battles finally took its toll, and she drifted into a fitful sleep, murmuring in her dreams. "Ahh, Liora, what should I do?" Her words, soft and laden with weariness, hinted at the deep conflicts still swirling within her.

As she slept, the rest of their group gradually assembled around them, their expressions a mixture of concern and fatigue. Ida, stepping forward with a solemn demeanor, addressed Amukelo directly, his voice low and steady. "What happened with the artifact?" he inquired, already bracing for the answer he suspected would come.

Amukelo, his face shadowed by disappointment, simply shook his head and replied quietly, "I failed." His admission was blunt, carrying the weight of their collective disappointment and his personal sense of responsibility.

Noticing Eliss asleep on Amukelo's shoulder and sensing the somber mood that enveloped the group, Ida gestured towards her and asked, "What happened to her?"

"She... She just needs some rest," Amukelo responded, his voice protective and gentle, careful not to disturb her slumber. He adjusted slightly to provide her with better support, ensuring her comfort even in sleep.

Ida nodded understandingly, acknowledging the tough circumstances they had all faced. "We all tried our best," he reassured Amukelo and the group, his tone earnest. "The enemy just had the upper hand from the beginning." His words were meant to console, to lift the burden of guilt that seemed to hang particularly heavy on Amukelo.

Then, with a decisive tone, Ida continued, "We can't stay here. We need to head back home." He turned to Erohan, who had revealed his dragon form, a sight that never failed to inspire awe among their ranks.

"How many people can you carry?" Ida asked, already formulating a plan for their retreat.

Erohan pondered the question, calculating the logistics in his mind before responding. "If we are careful, I should be able to carry around thirty to forty people," he estimated, his voice rumbling deep and resonant.

Ida nodded at that, satisfied with the answer. He immediately set about organizing the group, giving instructions to gather the injured and search for any other survivors. Their departure was set for the next day, giving them just enough time to prepare and ensure no one was left behind.

As the dim light of dawn began to seep through the cavern's mouth, those who had survived the night's ordeal gathered outside. The air was thick with a somber mood as the group, now reduced to about thirty individuals, prepared for their journey back. Some were still combing through the cave in search of survivors. Eliss, having just woken up from her restless slumber, joined Amukelo with her head still bowed, her eyes shadowed with the remnants of her earlier despair.

Amukelo greeted her with a nod, a silent acknowledgment of her ongoing struggle. Not having any healing abilities himself, he felt a strong urge to contribute elsewhere—joining the rescue efforts seemed the best way to make himself useful. Ida approached him with an offer to search together, and Amukelo readily accepted, welcoming the company and the chance to do more.

As they ventured back into the cave, the quiet was punctuated by Ida's voice. "I can't believe how strong you are," he remarked, a note of genuine admiration in his tone. Amukelo responded with a warm laugh, appreciative of the compliment but aware of the weight it carried.

Ida continued, his voice taking on a more serious note. "We most likely won't be able to stay in the city for long. We'll need to secure the next artifact, even though we don't yet know where it is." His words were pragmatic, outlining the grim reality of their situation.

Amukelo nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I respect you for your ability to stay cool and logical in these difficult situations," he admitted, his respect for Ida's leadership qualities evident.

"You'll also gain this ability with time," Ida reassured him. "I had no personal matter with Valarian, unlike you. You were clearly touched personally by his appearing." His observation was astute, recognizing the deeper emotional currents that influenced Amukelo's actions.

Amukelo couldn't deny the truth in Ida's words. His personal history with Valarian added a layer of complexity to his reactions, a fact that he was still learning to navigate.

Their conversation flowed as they moved deeper into the cave, the light from their torches casting long shadows on the walls. Suddenly, they stumbled upon a scene that halted them in their tracks. It was the team that had been sent to gather food, and the sight was devastating. Every member of the team lay lifeless, their mission tragically unfulfilled. A girl without a head, a guy with chopped up all limbs. I was a massacre. A short distance away, they found the bodies split in half of those who had to escape to warn the others.

The shock of the scene hit Amukelo hard; he felt a wave of nausea wash over him, and he stumbled, losing his balance as he threw up. He had seen many deaths, but this was mad. It was as if the intruders were playing with their bodies. The visceral reaction was a stark contrast to his usual composure.

Ida, usually the epitome of calm and control, was not immune to the impact of the gruesome discovery. His face hardened, his jaw clenched, and his fists balled at his sides. Under his breath, he whispered Valarian's name with a venom that betrayed his anger and helplessness.

When they returned to the group, the full extent of the tragedy was clear. Only 42 survivors remained out of an original 89, with 20 suffering severe injuries. These were the elite, the best of the best, and yet they had been decimated. With heavy hearts, everyone mounted Erohan's back, the great dragon accommodating as many as he could.

After some time of taking the flight, the city they were heading back to loomed in the distance—a place of potential safety but no longer a home. The flight was quiet, each person lost in their thoughts, grappling with the loss and the uncertain future.