Tyron lay slumped against the base of a tree, tired, barely conscious, vines coming out from the undergrowth, wrapping around his legs, not to hurt him but to mind his leg together, better and stronger.

  His clothes torn, and smeared with blood, some of it his own, most of it not though. Every breath felt heavier than the last, his body trembles with exhaustion. His broken leg throbbed, the pain duller only by fatigue. His body was to tired to completely feel the pain.

  The red glow of the crystal studded forest pulsed faintly around him, casting long warped shadows almost like figures between the twisted trees.

  Then suddenly, footsteps.

  Soft, careful. Didn't sound like Shoven.

  The forest didn't react to them.

  Tyron stirs awake listening to the foot steps he grips the swords hilt tightly ready for anything.

  No animals fled, no leaves shifted, even the wind seemed to have stopped.

  It was as if the world had not yet decided if she was a threat, anticipation shown through silence.

  Someone emerged from between the trunks, guns drawn, they step over the Shoven bodies that were left behind, Tyron looks up out of breath hand still clasped firmly around his swords hilt. The long green robe brushing against the glowing crimson crystals, each are responding as the robes brush against them, in fear, understanding or both. The light catches their blonde hair hanging out from her large green hood, setting it a glow, as if lit from within. They stopped when they saw Tyron, their breath catching.

  They holster their guns and hurry towards Tyron, crouching down beside them, they take their hand gently into their own, feeling for a pulse, it is faint, but it's there.

  “Oh, Tyron.” the figure says in an unmistakable feminine voice. “It is so good to see you, I have not seen you since the events that transpired today.”

  Her voice came before her face.

  It was familiar, yet, impossible.

  Like a memory he hadn't lived yet.

  She pulled him into a deep embrace, but Tyron recoiled, unsure, unaware of who this figure is.

  “Here, look, let me help you.” she said slipping an arm around his waist and pulling him to his feet. Tyron swayed slightly, leaning heavily on her. Letting her guide him through the forest.

  Tyron blinks up at her, confusion written plainly across his face, the voice stirred something buried, a sense of command wrapped in compassion, like déjá vu, or Déjáe Lune as the Shaherens called it, without a source.

  “I am sorry.” Tyron muttered looking at the ground. “It has been a crazy few days... who are you exactly?”

  She smiled at him, warm, radiant, the kind of smile that carried reassurance with it.

  “I did not think you would recognise me.” She said. “It has been quite a few years for me, and it has not been easy.”

  They continue walking, branches and leaves crunch beneath their feet, Tyron keeps looking back with each snap, he still isn't quite stable, wobbling as he walks trying not to fall over.

  She finally sighs, a sigh that sounds like she has been hiding every secret. “I am from the future.” She said calmly, as calm as someone time travelling can. “This moment, it was always unstable.” She said. “It has been five years, I am here to seal a break in the timeline.”

  “If it was not for me, those guards would have killed you if I had not arrived when I did.” She says in a confident tone.”

  Tyron chuckled, “I doubt it.” He laughs.

  “The light you saw was me forcing my way into a timeline that I do not belong in.” She says in intrigue.

  “I could have handled them, could have dealt with them and more on my own.” He laughs even louder.

  She let out a light chortle. “Trust me, no you could not.”

  He glanced at her sharply. “A few Shoven? Easy work, would not have broke a sweat.”

  “Tyron! I have held your body in my arms limp and cold, I have seen your blank lifeless expression, please believe me when I say you did not make it, because every night when I shut my eyes that is what I see, and it hurts me every day.” She says tears building.

  Tyron feels the weight in her words, the pain, and the torment.

  “I am sorry, I had no idea.” Tyron falls quiet.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “I am from a future where you did not make it.”

  “We won... eventually.” she swallowed. “But it cost us everything, we still don't know exactly what it cost us.” She continued, her voice steady but weighted with meaning. “Where the Chosen were only five and believe me when I say, losing you was our greatest loss.”

  Tyron frowned, the words sink in slowly. The idea was impossible. And yet... something about her certainly made him accept it without argument.

  They walked on in silence mostly sharing a brief smile now and again.

  Eventually after what seems like miles of forest the trees begin to thin, and out of it appears a small weather beaten house rising out of the darkness. Half swallowed by vines and neglect. The woman strode up to the door and barges into it shoulder first, nothing budges except from some dead leaves on the roof. Another ram and it shakes again, finally one last barge into it. The wood creaks and swings open, dust billows out into the air, bringing with it the smell of damp and grime filling their airways. She coughs with the dust.

  Inside it was cluttered and abandoned, old broken furniture, candles burnt to a nub signalling many late evenings. Broken tools, debris scattered everywhere, memories lost in junk.

  She stepped inside and surveyed the room. “ Yep, still a horrible hovel.” she said dryly. “It will do for the night.”

  She lit on single lonely candle that may have just enough wax to last the night, the week flame pushing back the darkness just enough to see.

  Tyron gently lowered himself into a chair, dust billowing from the seat as he sat down. “Who are you? I need to know, how are you from the future?”

  Instead of answering, she reached to her waist behind her back, and drew two pistols from their holsters.

  They were white, bright, etched with golden filigree, glowing faintly blue, swirling around the guns barrel. She placed them carefully on the table in front of him, the blue dissipating as she sits back.

  “I hadn't known you for long.” she said quietly, rummaging through her bag. “Since the day we tried to fight, and I managed to freeze time, funny I still think back to that day, even after all of... well this.”

  Tyron stared at the pistols, then at the amulet hanging around her neck.

  His breath caught.

  “What... no... it can not be...Samantha.” He looks to her as she removes her hood, her beautiful blue eyes staring deep into his eyes. Her rosey cheeks paired with the beautiful platinum like blonde hair, cascading down her shoulders in loose teasing curls, still as beautiful as yron remembers.

  She paused and met his gaze and nodded.

  She handed him a cup of painkillers and a hip flask. He drank it deeply his hands shaking, spitting some out from it burning his throat.

  “What the blazin was that?”

  “Shoven wine.” Samantha says chuckling.

  “They make wine now?” He says in shock.

  “I have truly missed you, in the short time I knew you. You made it look so easy.” She said. “Leadership fitted you. Holding us together. I did not understand how hard it would be till you were gone.” She said smiling.

  “That is why I was sent back by the Elders.” Samantha said, her voice softer now. “From my future to save you. What happened today, well it ruined any plans, we needed you alive. Not because you were the strongest.” Tyron looks at her almost insulted.

  “But because when everything fell apart and fractured, you would be the one to hold people together. We knew when it would happen. It was just a matter of getting there.”

  “The Elder, he did not know what I would cost, only that not doing it cost more.” Samantha says looking out of the window as the fog rolls in. “But we soon realised something that time does not like to be forced. It always takes something back.”

  She studies him, a sad smile touches her lips. “Your leg is ruined. You put up a hell of a fight though.” She looks to Tyron happily.

  Tyron exhaled slowly. “So... what happens now?”

  “Well I return to my time.” She said. “Once you are back with the council, I have a feeling some things might change.” She said frowned. “Maybe Zara will stay on our side this time.” Samantha mutters louder than she was meant to.

  She sees tyron's face and realises she should probably expand. “Not betrayal.”

  “Manipulation. She was not evil, that was the worst part.”

  Tyron choked, this time not on Shoven wine, but on words left hanging. “What?” he blurted spitting out some of the medicine. “Zara with them?”

  Samantha's expression hardened. “I have already told you too much.”

  “Well, if time is going to change anyway.” Tyron pressed. “That means it does not matter.”

  “It matters.” she said firmly. “If you know what might happen, you could change something else. How do we know this is not meant to happen in every timeline? What if this path is really what ended the Shoven enslavement?”

  She sat opposite him. “Time travel... it is an art.” She continued. “You need to know what to do, and what not to do. It is dangerous. It can lead to pain, loss and death.” Samantha sighs knowing she has faced all of that. “All six of us will learn that.”

  Tyron looked down at his leg feeling helpless. “But they are my team.” He said quietly. “They are not soldiers.” he said, getting slightly agitated. “They are people, and I will not let fate turn into sacrifice.”

  “You do not need to know everything to do that.” Samantha replied. “Listen to them, support them, after we lost you, I had to lead. And you will be there for them in ways I never could.”

  She smiled and passed him some bread from her bag.

  “You need rest.” She said gently. “We will talk tomorrow.”

  Tyron nodded, exhaustion finally taking over pulling him under. He closed his eyes as Samantha dropped a blanket over him.

  She stepped outside into the glowing forest, the crystals glow lightly in the distance. She looks up to the night sky and the twinkling stars above, it's strange constellations. Flickering between crimson branches.

  She sighed softly.

  Time was already changing.

  And something had noticed.

  Thanks for reading!

  Every time someone spends a few minutes in the world of Shahero, it honestly means more than I can properly put into words. Seeing people follow the journey of Tyron, Samantha, Lazarus, Freya, Cid, and Zara makes all the hours of writing worth it.

  If you enjoyed the chapter, feel free to leave a comment or follow the story. I read every comment, and it genuinely helps the story reach more readers here on Royal Road.

  A few people have also asked how they can support the project as I work toward eventually publishing the book. If that’s something you’d like to help with, there’s a support link below that goes toward editing and preparing the story for print.

  No pressure at all though—reading the story is already huge support.

  Question for readers:What moment in this chapter stood out to you the most?

  See you in the next chapter.

  — Matthew Cooke-Sumner