text: ainst his chest, holding her upright in the saddle. The arrow wound to her side is a deep pool of red, the shaft still pointing out like a patriotic plant of a flag.
  
  You take another glance back. "I agree. There's too many of them. Lead on, Saric!"
  
  The green-haired man kicks his horse forward, taking the lead among you and Kassi. Up ahead, the path sharply turns to the left. Trees on either side make up a narrow alleyway. Around the bend, you spot your destination. A deep ravine lies directly ahead, barely visible, unless you know it's there. The ground angles up slightly before dropping steeply down the edge, creating a natural camouflage. As you pass by trees near to the edge, you catch the painted faces of your allies, hiding in the forest. Your horses clear the zone and veer right following the poorly, on purpose, maintained trail. The trap is set.
  
  Tripwires lift from the ground, held by your allies hiding off the path. The Imperial riders slam into the traps, sending soldier from horse, and rendering their horses incapacitated. The riders at the front are thrown from the ledge, falling down the steep slope. Those in the back quickly meet their end by the sudden rush from the forest. Your allies easily cut down the riders, who are mostly too shaken to fight back.
  
  "See? Why make things harder for ourselves?" Saric asks.
  
  "Because it's less fun," Kassi answers.
  
  "Quick. We need to attend to Mathers' wounds," you say. The allies from the forest, many of them green-haired like Saric, approach and lift Mathers from the saddle. You follow them to the sanctuary.
  
  > The sanctuary
  Deep in the Ellehorn forest, away from any main roads, crossings, or even hiking trails lies the camp. Well, with the amount of non-soldiers, refugees from the war, it's turned into a small village. Naturally hidden by the overgrowth, it's a mixture of hanging structures and huts. Narrow bridges connect the hanging structures to centralized platforms with simple rope and wooden planks.
  
  The trees here are unlike any you've ever seen before arriving. Their trunks are several times thicker than the average oak. The trunks themselves are a dark brown, almost black despite the many pockets of sunshine firing through the canopy gaps. Heavy spots of moss line the base of the trunk, steadily rising to the structures' height and above. As you arrive, several of the members greet you and take Mathers to the healer. Finally back home, you rub your aching shoulders and head for your hut.
  
  Your hut is among the hanging structures and suspends from one of the many massive branches growing from the oversized tree trunk. Due to its conditions, it takes on a natural sway, almost a bit like being on a ship. It feels normal now, comforting even, but it took some getting used it. The entryway is a simple piece of cloth blocking view from within -- it's less private than a door, but lighter and more accommodating for the hut's design. Inside, you have a bedroll and not much else. There's little room and the space you do have, you use to practice your forms. Exhausted, you drop your gear next to the bedroll and collapse within it.
  
  Footsteps alert you back to consciousness. You lie still, unmoving, as not to draw attention to the fact that you're awake. Through a thin slit in one eye, you see it's now dark. The steps grow louder, although you can tell they are deliberate, attempting to be soft. They stop just outside the cloth door.
  
  "Your presence is not unnoticed. Who's there?" you call into the dark.
  
  Silence.
  
  Heavy drowsiness falls over your eyes, and you fall back asleep. The events of the night are nothing more than a dream, fading from memory, forgotten by the morning.
  
  > go hunting
  Silently, you creep forward. Your familiar sword remains tucked away in place of a longbow. You glide through the forest floor as if a spirit. Your prey lies in front of you, unaware of your presence. Keeping your eyes remained on the target, you draw the bowstring back, feeling the arrow feathers tickle your cheek. In an instant the arrow disappears from its nocked position and lands squarely in the neck of the buck.
  
  "You're a natural. I can't believe you'd never picked up a bow before coming here."
  
  You turn to see Cara, lead hunter of the village. Her dirty blonde hair, neatly tied back into a single braid, spills from the left side of her hood like a snake. A thin line of dirt is faintly visible on her cheek.
  
  "I never said that. I just feel a lot more comfortable with a sword in my hand," you say. "Although I must say, I'm taking a liking to this."
  
  "Nothing like your arrow landing true," Cara says.
  
  "I wouldn't go that far. Come on, help me with the carcass."
  
  The two of you head towards the fallen deer. You pull a knife from the back of your hip. You make a long incision from the neck down the deer's front side to empty the unneeded organs. Your mind drifts to events from the past two years. The Empire eventually broke through King Aeric's castle, the last remaining territory. Now, no one publicly opposes the Emperor's rule.
  
  You've found refuge with Saric's contacts, misfits, refugees, and former soldiers who have taken to Ellehorn to hide from the Empire. They've created a small village in the trees, led by Gilcrest. If there's ever a place you don't want to be found, Ellehorn is it. Mathers' organization is all but disbanded; the Imperial raids made sure of that. You're unsure if Vishal is still carrying on with his "thorn in the side" business. The Emperor's intel makes you think not. The latest ambush on an Imperial cargo transfer didn't go well, and ended putting Mathers out of commission for a while, though you're grateful her wounds didn't end up being fatal.
  
  "Done!" Cara exclaims. The thin spot of dirt is joined with a few splashes of blood from the deer. "I'll let you have the honor of dragging it back to camp. You did fell the 'great beast,' after all." She holds her fingers out in a mocking gesture.
  
  "You speak highly for someone so empty handed," you reply.
  
  "You make the task a lot more difficult, stomping around with those heavy footsteps of yours. It's a wonder we found anything. I'm willing to bet this here buck has hearing problem."
  
  "Had hearing problems," you correct.
  
  "Close enough. Now pack up your little friend, and let's get back to the others."
  
  > That night
  Your hut sways comfortably in the night breeze, gently willing you, rocking you to sleep. Every few minutes, a strong burst rustles the leaves hanging around the structure. Softly, as if on a ship, the nearby bridge, suspended by rope, creaks with motion, then returns back to silence. Your simple bedroll invites you in, warms you like a mother's arms. Inside the cover, your feet settle in
  
  and find cold, leathery-smooth skin. Instantly, you flip from the bedroll and peer inside. Darkness: the same that's outside is all you find, an empty bedroll, still warm from your inhabitance. Taking a deep breath, you slide back inside and try to forget what just happened. You're sure you felt something at your feet. As you re-settle in, your toes briefly touch, and for a second you imagine you feel it again, but...nothing. Whatever it was, a strange dream most likely, it's gone now.
  
  > The next morning
  You rise early, before the sun even. The thick forest doesn't allow you to view the sunrise very well, but there's a clearing a short hike from the village that offers the best view. The clearing is your destination, as it is most mornings. Cool air fills your lungs as you trek through small animal trails. A song bird sings to your right, and as if a duet, another to your left, though it sounds far off in the distance. Rusting of leaves alerts you to a woodland creature scurrying off at your presence. You see a familiar Y-shaped tree, the trunk splitting into two separate branches. Another 100 steps or so, and you're there.
  
  You hear breathing before you see her. It's like you're kids again back at the monastery. It was Brother Trevor's punishment that made you start rising early to train, but you and Kassi kept the habit going. You remember the times you beat her to the training room. She'd arrive shortly after, visibly disappointed for allowing you, or anyone, to beat her. Without a doubt, the next morning she'd be there first, never allowing two mornings in a row to take place. Through a break in the leaves, you peer through watching Kassi's form.
  
  She moves intently, never wasting stamina in large sweeping motions. Each motion is deliberate as she shadowboxes an unseen opponent. She feints forward, attempting to pull her imaginary foe off balance, then quickly steps back at the same time throwing her counter.
  
  "It's not polite to spy on a woman from the bushes," she calls out into the morning.
  
  You abandon your position and step into the clearing. "'Spying' suggests intentional deceit. I have nothing to hide."
  
  "No, but you were hiding."
  
  "Out of courtesy. I don't mean to interrupt your practice."
  
  "Now that you're here, care to join?"
  
  "Of course. That's why I'm here."
  
  > Keep training
  It's like you're children again. The forest clearing is filled with the sound of your footsteps and breath work. Abandoning your weapons, today you're focusing on hand-to-hand combat and grappling. Your hands grip the back of Kassi's neck as you throw light knees into her torso. She easily blocks the strikes with her forearms and twists from your grasp, smacking the back of your head with an open palm, holding back, but calling the blow "gentle" would be an understatement.
  
  With a smile, and ever-so-slight intensity increase, you duck under your arms and tackle Kassi to the ground. She instantly wraps her legs around your waist to control your posture. Using one knee, you break the grip at her feet, prying her legs open and pinning one of her legs to the ground. One leg pinned, you easily slide past her guard and begin to isolate an arm, using both of your hands to interlace the joint lock. Gradually applying pressure, she eventually taps your shoulder signaling her surrender and unwillingness to suffer a broken arm in order to preserve her pride.
  
  You obey the voice. You snap Kassi's arm at the elbow joint and release the broken limb to the ground. She screams in pain and grabs for the injured arm. Horrified, you back up, keeping both arms raised displaying your intention to cause no further harm, but the damage is already done. Kassi's face curls in pain and disbelief at your actions. You try to comfort her, but she kicks at you, wanting nothing to do with you.
  
  "Hello?"
  
  Reality snaps back.
  
  "I tapped. You can release my arm now."
  
  You're back holding Kassi's uninjured arm, which you promptly release in fear of your vision becoming real.
  
  "Sorry," you manage to mumble.
  
  "You've been acting strange lately. What's going on?" Kassi asks.
  
  "I just lost myself for a moment there," you answer.
  
  "Yeah, well, don't let it happen again. Focus your mind. Remember your mantra," Kassi instructs as if you're a kid again.
  
  "Yes, Grandmaster," you say, forcing yourself to smile.
  
  You eat a playful punch to the gut in reply.
  
  > Council meeting
  You sit at a circular table joined by the other members of the council. You see the familiar faces of Saric, Kassi, and a bandaged Mathers along with Cara, leader of the hunters, and Gilcrest, the village head. Cara's dirty blonde hair rolls from the left side of her hood in a single braid like a snake. Gilcrest is dressed in brown robes, priestly garments from his previous life before the Empire took control. The six of you make up the council, tasked with defending the village and organizing fire strikes against Empire soldiers wandering too close.
  
  "The fact is, the latest raid was too risky. You brought the Imperial riders to our doorstep! One of our own was injured," Gilcrest speaks, calmly, though passionately. His shaved head reflects light from the candles on the table.
  
  "It was well worth it," Mathers answers. "One of my former contacts shared valuable information. Horne is the best assassin there is. Shame his wounds kept him from joining us the night of the confrontation... Anyway, it's only a matter of time before the Empire finds us here. They have plans to level the entire forest."
  
  "Ellehorn is massive. It's too tall a task, even for the Empire," Cara inputs.
  
  "I wouldn't be too sure," the voice of the green-haired man speaks. Saric pulls a parchment and rolls it open on the table. "A prototype for a new type of tool. A forest-leveler."
  
  The drawing shows a magical device of sorts, drawn from several angles. Some show it head on, others are the side view. There's even a glimpse inside the device. It's a series of small blades on a round track.
  
  "What are we looking at exactly?" Kassi asks.
  
  "It looks like a saw of sorts," you say figuring out the item's purpose. "I'm uncertain to how it's powered, but it looks continuous, and uninhibited by a man's fatigue."
  
  "That's right," Saric says. "They are being mass-produced throughout the Empire and only take a matter of seconds to topple the thickest of tree trunks. Ellehorn is vast, but it's only a matter of time until the entire forest is bare."
  
  "If these are being mass produced, what can we do? It's not as simple as burning a factory and destroying the prototypes," Cara says.
  
  "Excellent point," Saric answers. "I vote for relocation. Underground. I'm told there's a place near the late King Aeric's keep."
  
  "And I suggest we move quickly. Based on the intel, the Empire will be here by mid-Summer."
  
  "So soon," Gilcrest comments, more to himself than to the others. "This has been our home for many years."
  
  "It won't be ours for much longer," Mathers says.
  
  "Take a night to reflect. Tomorrow, we'll vote on relocation," Gilcrest closes the meeting.
  
  > discuss with Cara
  Like your hut, Cara's is one of the hanging variety. You travel up the spiral ramp built around one of the tree trunks, crossing a few of the wooden bridges to reach it. Since there is no door to knock on, you call out, "Cara!"
  
  Her head pokes through the canvas door. "Oh, it's you. Come on in."
  
  Inside the small hut, Cara's bow leans against the corner wall, her leather quiver in front. Pure white feathers stick out from the opening, extending from the arrow shafts. Her bedroll is in the opposite corner of the bow, strangely enough, as you wouldn't dare sleep that far from your weapon. Then again, Cara's bow is more a tool, a means to provide food, rather than weapon of war. A few strands of hair fallen loose from the braid hang at her cheek as Cara looks at you, expectantly.
  
  "You're probably wondering why I'm here," you say. "I'm interested to hear your thoughts on the relocation. As someone so well versed in the forest, living underground can't sound too enticing."
  
  She gazes from the open window, overlooking the entire village. You join her, peering out from the window. You can see almost every hut from here. The buildings on ground level look miniature, like a child's play toy.
  
  "I must admit, I'm not thrilled by the idea," she says. "I mean, look at this view! What would we be trading it for? A dark view of dark rocks?"
  
  "It's safe at least," you answer. "A dark view of dark rocks is better than no view at all."
  
  "Is it?" Cara questions.
  
  "Depending on the person," you clarify.
  
  "That's just it. I don't know
  
  if it's worth it for me. The forest is my home. I'm happy here. I love walking through the trees, feeling the same breeze that rustles the leaves. Plus, the hunt. I've never felt so alive. There's nothing quite like tracking a beast, seeing their prints, reading the forest's clues on which direction the prey lies. I was born for this."
  
  "And would you die for it?" you ask.
  
  "I don't know. Probably," Cara answers.
  
  The voice appears from your mouth, otherworldly, sinister. Cara turns, facing you to see the disruption at your words. Your hands grab her shoulders, gripping them tightly, fingernails digging into her skin. In a single motion, you throw Cara against the hut wall. The entire structure shakes in the impact, beginning to sway side to side. A lifeless laugh escapes your lips as you stomp towards the collapsed woman.
  
  She rises to her knees and begins to crawl towards the bow, but you catch her first. Your foot presses into Cara's back, flattening her to the floor. With one hand, you grip around her throat and lift Cara into the air. Step. You walk towards the open window. Step. Cara's eyes meet yours, afraid, confused by the actions of the man she thought she knew. Step. Your grip tightens, restricting the air flow of her breath.
  
  The miniature buildings below call to you. They call for a worthy sacrifice. Fortunately, you possess just that.
  
  > Sacrifice
  Cara's frightened eyes glance down then return back to meet yours. She tries to shake her head, signaling you not to do it. Your lips curl into a smile as you throw her from the window. Her scream starts loud, then fades as she falls lower and lower, eventually silenced by the impact. Already, villagers gather around her fallen body. Someone points up, and the entire group around Cara's body looks up to see you in her hut, in front of the window.
  
  Reality snaps back.
  
  The episode over, you're now back in control. Expecting to see Cara in front of you, as the episodes often end, the horrible vision replaced with a peaceful reality, she's not there. A chill runs down your spine. Was she really dead? You gaze around in the empty hut, still swaying slightly from the impact of Cara against the wall. You peer from the window and see more of a crowd around Cara's body. Some of them begin to climb the ramps, obviously heading in your direction.
  
  This has never happened before. At least not to this degree to someone you care about. Usually the episode leaves you with frightening thoughts, but it's never reality. The horrible nightmares and visions are simply that, dreams. You feel sick to your stomach, realizing the actions, the blood at your hands, are very real. The voice completely took over, despite your mental barriers and lifetime of building up a defense. Men's voices draw near. They're coming for you.
  
  > turn yourself in
  There's really no choice in the matter. You aren't one to shift the blame from one's self. Despite not your actions, it's by your hand that Cara lies dead. You doubt the others will want to hear the story behind. All they know is a woman is dead and you're likely the one who caused it. The thought occurs to you, not a thought that you're proud of, that you could simply say Cara fell, that it was an accident. The others would always suspect you, but do they really have any proof it was you?
  
  No.
  
  You cannot lie about such an event. You're a man of your word, and by the same token you'd rather die with the truth than live a lie. Footsteps approach, steadily getting louder. This voice, whatever it is inside you, is the cause of many deaths, innocent or otherwise. Part of you wonders if siding with your allies really was the best choice. You'd choose them over anything, your actions displayed that, although you wonder if they are better off without you. The Unbroken blood, the thing Mathers told you about, rises within, taking over, spilling blood by your hands. You await your punishment.
  
  They lead to you to village square, tied at the wrists and stripped of your tunic. Your bound hands are moored to a post, securing you like an animal. Men rush into buildings, gathering the council members and explaining the events that just transpired. Often they finish with pointing a finger directly at you. Then you see her. Kassi appears from behind a crowd of people. Her bright blonde hair cuts through the crowd of people like rays of sun through trees. She looks concerned and uncertain how to react.
  
  The council members surround you. "Is it true?" Gilcrest asks.
  
  "It was my hand, yes," you answer.
  
  "Why?"
  
  While thinking of a response, of a possible explanation, Mathers fills in. "He can't control it. You're looking at the last descendent of Ragar the Unbroken."
  
  "And you did not think to tell us who was within our midst?" Gilcrest questions.
  
  "We thought his training suppressed the darkness."
  
  "Obviously not. What am I supposed to do? He's too dangerous to be kept alive. God forbid he bears children." Gilcrest bends down to your level, gauging your intentions. "He is a man of character, despite the darkness within. I think we can all agree on that fact. Yet, he is a danger to us all."
  
  Shouts of "kill him!" rise from the crowd. Gilcrest silences them with a wave of his hand. Kassi remains quiet.
  
  "I can think of two options for such a crime. Death, the Unbroken line dying with you." Gilcrest pauses to let the crowd finish their cries. "Or exile, with the mark of the Unbroken carved on your forehead. That way all who you meet will know exactly who you are and to stay away. As a man of character, I'll let you decide your fate."
  
  > Death
  "I have lived long enough. This is not the first death caused by my shadow nature, and it likely won't be the last if I remain living. I choose death."
  
  The crowd cheers. Not so long ago, they would do anything for you. The faces of the villagers you've helped countless times cry out in triumph at your death sentence. You don't blame them. They don't understand the full picture, but you're glad. They will live on and the darkness within you will finally be silenced.
  
  "So be it," Gilcrest answers. "Say your final words. Speak your peace, and we will remember you for the man you are, not the tainted blood within."
  
  You rise from the kneeling position, hands still bound to the post. "What they say is true. There is an evil that lives within me. I've done my best to hold it at bay, but even with my lifelong training, it still rears its ugly head. I am no different than any of you, though my actions may have greater consequences if chosen poorly. There is a battle within each self, one between good and evil, right and wrong. We are the same in that matter. I see your looks of hate. You look at me as if I'm the embodiment of evil. I did not choose this. Do you think I chose my lineage? Did any of you choose your parents? I've tried to do what is right. Nothing more, nothing less. If my death will bring benefit to you, if my death will put you in a safer position, then I am in accord. I do not fear death. I've battled it my entire life, witnessing my home, those who raised me slaughtered like beasts. Many of you experienced the same. If my death will bring a better world, then I am ready."
  
  Gilcrest unsheathes his weapon and raises it overhead. An arm stops him from finishing the blow. Kassi.
  
  "No," she whispers. "It should be me."
  
  "I can think of no one better," you whisper back.
  
  Kassi's hand grips the back of your head, softly massaging your scalp with her fingers. Her face gets inches from yours. A breeze of air blows strands of bright blonde in-between you. She gazes into your eyes and yours into hers.
  
  "You know I would do anything for you, even this," Kassi manages to say through a wavering voice.
  
  "I know, Kass. I know."
  
  Kassi's lips meet yours, surprising you with warmth. Softly, tenderly you embrace the kiss, filling your senses with the taste of her lips. She drives her sword through your heart. The sharp pain, the loss of breath, you hardly notice. Your vision fades. The warmth of Kassi's lips are replaced with coldness. The world is closing in now, tunneling your vision on to a single focus point. Kassi.