Sarya and Leli ran between the trees. Sarya spoke in a low voice:

  — Leli, focus. Breathe in through your nose, breathe out through your mouth. Your breathing is uneven. Your steps are heavy.

  On the other side, in the Village of Whispering Leaves…

  — Look at these Autumn elves. That’s a mountain of gold if they’re sold properly. And I have the right contacts. The black market day in Bragan?a is coming. Damn Pedro… if it weren’t for them and those dogs of Bragan?a, we wouldn’t need to hide so much. Being here in the South is risky, but it’s worth every coin. They’re dealing with too much after that attack.

  — Who cares? The important thing is there are plenty of non-warrior elves. Unprotected.

  Several men were beating and dragging elves who cried and screamed. Others grabbed branches, but were struck down by heavy blows from warriors.

  — Hey, idiot! Don’t damage them! Want to lose your payment? They’re too valuable to be injured. You know very well scars lower the price.

  — Sorry, boss. I slipped up — said a soldier who looked like a tank-class warrior.

  — You’ve got muscles but no brain, idiot.

  — Please… why are you doing this? We’ve done nothing to you… — said a young Autumn elf, crying in terror.

  — Hmmm, my dear… you don’t know how valuable you are. She’s cute, boys, don’t you think? Worth many gold coins. But relax… maybe I’ll treat you well if you’re obedient.

  Others loaded tied elves into wagons marked with magical concealment emblems.

  — Boss, we found many elves along the way. What do we do? They won’t all fit.

  — Idiot, stack them carefully. There’s always room for more gold. Tighten them up, just don’t damage them.

  — Stop this or I’ll kill you! — shouted a boy.

  — Hahahahaha!

  — An elven child?

  — Guardians of Autumn, hear my call! I, a son of the Red Mother, Mother of Autumn… summon you!

  — He’s casting! Stop him! He’s a conjurer!

  — Kill him! We don’t know what he might summon! What if it’s a superior guardian spirit?!

  — It took too much effort to get here unseen…

  A soldier raised his sword.

  When he brought it down… his arm was no longer there.

  — You did well holding them off.

  — Brazidas…

  — That voice… Sarya?!

  — What wind was that?!

  — AAAAAAAAA! My arm!

  — What was that?!

  — There will always be rotten people like you walking around… but you stopped in the wrong tribe.

  — Who is it?!

  — A guardian spirit! All men on guard!

  — That damned summoner brat!

  — Damned summoner? You sure talk a lot of nonsense, merchant.

  — If I remember correctly… that’s how you did it that time, Lukas. With two daggers. Fast and precise. What did you call that precise speed?

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  — Surgical Strike. Clean, fast, and lethal.

  Sarya moved like a swift wind through ten soldiers. They didn’t even realize it…

  Until their heads fell.

  She moved without making a sound.

  To the others, she was just a crimson blur.

  By the time they noticed, it was already too late.

  — Guards, protect me, idiots!

  — Calling for someone?

  When he looked to the side, all the guards were dead.

  He saw the blood.

  — Impossible… the enchanted armor… all that money wasted… where’s the protection?!

  — Ridiculous. Do you really think simple enchanted armor can stop a Hunter of Autumn?

  Sarya stepped out from the leaves like the wind, holding two curved daggers that bent back toward her elbows.

  They dripped blood.

  Her crimson eyes glowed.

  Her expression calm and cold — as always.

  — Big brute… you’re the only one left.

  — It’s just an elf! Kill her!

  — Leave it to me, boss!

  — HAAAA!

  A brutal impact.

  — Tch… so predictable.

  She stepped left. The axe missed. She kicked his knee and sliced his jugular in one precise movement — surgical.

  She was copying someone’s style.

  But reshaping it into something uniquely hers.

  The impact that would have struck the earth never came.

  He collapsed, leaves scattering from the force.

  The merchant fell to his knees, trembling, hands raised.

  — That aura… it’s not crimson… it’s orange? N… no…

  The spear on her back. The daggers.

  No bow. No arrows.

  But it was her.

  Sarya Veyrum.

  — Now I remember where I’ve seen you… long braided hair… hunter’s leather armor… deep crimson eyes… always calm, like you feel nothing… the Hunter of Autumn. One of the Crimson Elite. The Ruby of the Frozen Heart. The youngest elf to reach the stage of the Shimmering Aura of Autumn.

  — P-please… your name is Sarya, isn’t it? I saw you in the capital, Bragan?a… you fought at the festival in Sorriso… you’re famous… please don’t kill me…

  He pressed his forehead to the ground.

  He felt the cold presence of someone who carried blood like a scent.

  The elves around stood in absolute silence. Some wounded. Some shaking.

  Leli watched, heart racing.

  — I swear — the man stammered — I’ll never touch the Autumn tribe again… keep the slaves… I won’t come back… I promise…

  Sarya did not answer immediately.

  Her spear still dripped red.

  The Autumn wind whispered through the leaves.

  — Promises… — she said at last, voice low, without anger — …are things men like you use until another opportunity appears.

  He started to rise.

  — No, I—

  The air split.

  One movement.

  Too fast for Leli to follow.

  The spear returned to Sarya’s hand as if it had never left.

  The body hit the ground.

  Dead.

  Silence.

  No cheers.

  No celebration.

  Only leaves.

  Leli swallowed.

  For the first time, she understood.

  Sarya did not kill out of hatred.

  She killed because, to her, letting someone like that live…

  Was condemning others to die.

  And that…

  Weighed far more than blood on armor.

  ---

  One hour later

  The bodies had been removed.

  The clearing still smelled of iron and blood.

  Leli watched closely.

  — One day you will also have to make choices, Leli.

  — To be of Autumn is to do what must be done to keep what matters safe. Even if it stains our hands with blood.

  — Autumn does not shout. It whispers. But it is not gentle. It is cold and cutting. If you learn to use it in your favor, you can become lethal. That can be a weapon… or a curse.

  — It requires a choice. Determination that depends only on you.

  — This is my second lesson to you. Never forget what you saw today.

  — There are two kinds of people: those like them…

  — …and the gentle. That is why I told you — observe the environment. It reveals what the enemy does not.

  — What did you notice about that merchant?

  Leli, still tense:

  — He was lying. He would come back with stronger people.

  — Correct. With people like that — human, elf, or any other race — never trust them. They stab from behind.

  Sarya cleaned her spear with a dark cloth. Calm. Precise. Neutral expression.

  Behind them, two young elves whispered.

  — She’s terrifying…

  — I heard she’s killed more than many war captains…

  — Imagine having a child with someone like that… she’d raise the kid to be a blood-soaked hunter…

  The other laughed nervously.

  — Who would even want to marry—

  — Enough.

  The voice cut the air.

  An older elf, one of the living-wall sentinels.

  She didn’t raise her tone.

  She didn’t need to.

  — You are alive because she was here. — Your sister is alive because she was here. — The village stands because she was here.

  Silence.

  — Do not confuse bloodied hands with a rotten heart. — And never judge the weight someone carries so that you don’t have to.

  They lowered their heads.

  Ahead of them, Sarya continued cleaning her weapon.

  As if she had heard nothing.

  But the cloth tightened slightly in her fingers.

  Leli saw.

  And understood something important that day:

  People fear the sword that protects them…

  Because they have never felt the weight of holding it.

  ---

  ???? In the Hall of Living Wood

  Hours later, Leli helped a healer separate roots and moss when Aurelius entered with Yuren.

  The hall fell silent.

  — Today we suffered one fatality, but no Autumn elf was harmed. Thanks to the Red Mother that Sarya was still in the village. I ask forgiveness… I failed as Patriarch. I failed to protect our people.

  — Father, please… — said Valen.

  Gelda stepped forward.

  — My lord, lift your head. You did nothing wrong. They used concealment relics. We suffered heavy losses after the recent attack from that Tower across the South. No one can predict the future. What matters is that we are all safe.

  — You created the Crimson Autumnals. Because of one member of that guard, we did not lose more lives.

  — Lift your head. You trained them for moments like this. We are grateful to have you as Patriarch.

  — You fought in Sorriso against an absolute monster, wounded it, and returned to our tribe alive. That alone is worthy of an Autumn Patriarch.

  — And I am certain the Red Mother agrees: without you and the Crimson Elite, we would have vanished long ago.

  Then the elves — warriors, scholars, conjurers, all present — lowered their heads.

  — Thank you for keeping us safe in the South, my lord.

  And in unison:

  — From the bottom of our hearts, thank you, Aurelius, Patriarch of Autumn.

  For the first time, Aurelius cried.

  The frustration he had carried since Sorriso. Since Anatoly.

  The helplessness of being wounded.

  Of not returning sooner.

  But the Autumn had endured.

  They had stood firm.

  And they did not blame him.

  They gave him love instead.

  ---

  Voices Between the Leaves

  That night, Leli dreamed again.

  But not of Lukas.

  Not of the Tower.

  She dreamed of herself.

  Older.

  Stronger.

  Marked.

  Holding a spear of living wood and black metal before an open portal, soldiers behind her.

  — For the Empire! For Bragan?a! For the South! For my father! For everything we believe in! Today we will rid the Empire of these filthy invaders who try to take everything from us!

  — Then we’ll take everything from them, men!

  — YESSSSSS!

  — Our sister gives an excellent emotional speech.

  — I’m going first!

  — Haa!

  — Idiot, don’t run ahead! There are many barbarians!

  — Then I’ll kill them all!

  — Older brother? I’m the oldest here! Lukas just looks older even if you were born first!

  — Father… you would be proud. He grew.

  End of Chapter 7