Seeds of Hope

*****

Roman

The world slowed, as if time itself recoiled from him. Roman dropped to his knees, the weight of his body pulling him down like lead chains. His breaths came in ragged, uneven gasps, each one a reminder of the battle that had just taken place. His heart pounded furiously in his chest, the adrenaline that had kept him alive now abandoning him, leaving him hollow and trembling. His limbs felt impossibly heavy, as if he were sinking into the earth, drowning in his own despair.

What’s happening to me? The thought whispered through the haze of his mind, but it was weak, drowned by the rising tide of panic and guilt. Is this because of the skill I used? He tried to rationalize the weakness, but the truth gnawed at him, sharp and relentless. Or did I go too far?

A tremor ran through his body, violent and consuming. His strength, the power he had reveled in moments before, now seemed like a curse, draining him, punishing him for his sins. His mind lurched to another, darker thought—a truth he couldn’t ignore any longer. Is this because I killed those men?

His gaze fell to his hands, still stained with their blood, and a sickening wave of revulsion surged through him. The red was vivid against his skin, an accusation, a brand marking him for what he had done. He recoiled, disgusted, his stomach twisting into knots as if the blood had seeped through his flesh and into his soul, corrupting him at his core.

His hands—once vessels of strength and hope—now trembled as if they could barely hold the weight of his guilt. How could I? The memory of those men—human lives—flashed in his mind, each face twisted in fear, in pain, in the final moments before he took their lives. They weren’t monsters. They weren’t mindless creatures like the wolves. They had families, they had histories, and now, because of him, they had nothing.

Roman bent over, retching, the bitter bile burning his throat as his stomach turned. The taste lingered, acrid and sharp, like the consequence of his actions—impossible to swallow, impossible to spit out. His body shook violently, the weight of his sin pressing down on him, suffocating him.

What have I done? His heart cried out in anguish, but there was no answer, no comfort, only silence. He felt like he was alone in the universe—abandoned. Is this what it means to be forsaken?

Roman’s mind swirled in chaos, his guilt spiraling into something darker, something deeper. The faces of his new companions flashed before him—Seth, Lexi, Jessika, Z. They had trusted him, accepted him even though they barely knew him. And what had he done? He had run. He had abandoned them after the violence he had unleashed, after losing control in front of them. They had seen him for what he truly was—a monster.

You’re nothing but a coward. His own voice echoed in his mind, dripping with disgust. “Coward,” he spat, his voice a broken whisper. You should’ve stayed. His heart pounded in his ears as shame coiled around his throat, choking him. You should’ve stayed and made sure they were safe. But instead, you ran. You always run.

His breath came quicker, shallow and uneven, as the magnitude of his failure overwhelmed him. What if there were more bandits? What if the army they mentioned is already closing in on them?

He squeezed his eyes shut, his mind grasping for the teachings of his old life—teachings that now felt distant, almost forgotten. Lord, is this my punishment? For everything I’ve done? For all my sins? He had always believed there was redemption, always believed in a second chance. But now, in the wake of the blood he had spilled, those beliefs seemed hollow, unreachable. Am I beyond saving?

His chest ached with the weight of his guilt, each breath harder to take than the last. He had killed. Not just in battle, not just to defend himself—he had enjoyed it. For a brief, horrifying moment, he had reveled in the power, in the destruction. How could I have let myself sink so low? He bent his head, feeling the sting of tears at the corners of his eyes, shame scorching through him.

He thought of his old life, his beliefs, the lessons he had once clung to. Thou shalt not kill. The words rang in his mind like a bell, a commandment he had shattered. The burden of it weighed on his soul. He had lost his way. How could I face them now? The thought of his companions, the looks of horror they must have worn, twisted his stomach further. What must they think of him now?

A part of him wanted to lay down and never rise again. You don’t deserve to go back. You don’t deserve forgiveness. The voice in his head was relentless, cruel. You should have been the one to die.

But even in the midst of the storm inside him, a spark flickered. His friends—Seth, Lexi, Jessika, Z—they were still out there. He had left them vulnerable, alone. If there was any chance that they were in danger, he couldn’t just sit here, drowning in his own self-hatred. They trusted you once. You owe them that much.

Roman’s hands dug into the dirt beneath him, his fingers curling into fists. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to rise, though every fiber of his being screamed at him to stay down. The weight of his guilt didn’t lift, but the thought of his friends, the thought of their safety, gave him enough strength to stand.

“I have to go back,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. He stumbled forward, his legs shaking, but he moved. His heart still ached, his soul still felt tainted, but he couldn’t abandon them. Not again. Not this time.

Roman glanced around, his vision still hazy, but he caught sight of a thin path through the underbrush. The branches were broken, evidence of his reckless escape. It had to be the way back.

I can’t change what I’ve done, he thought, his jaw clenching. But I can still do something right.

“Alright, Roman. Pull it together.” His voice was a harsh whisper, barely audible over the pounding of his heart. He forced himself to breathe deeply, trying to calm the storm raging inside him. You’ve got to go back. Make sure they’re safe. The words echoed in his mind like a mantra. He swallowed hard, pushing the fear aside. Then get everyone out and report those bastards. If that army really is the one that attacked Eidon…

His throat tightened as the image of Eidon’s destruction flashed before him—the streets littered with bodies, the city a smoking ruin. He couldn’t let that happen again. I can’t let them get ambushed.

Roman looked around, his gaze landing on a tall tree nearby, its sturdy branches far above the ground. I need to get my bearings. Find them. Without hesitation, he sprinted toward the tree, his legs surging with power. He leaped, muscles coiling as he shot upward, grabbing a thick branch seven feet above the ground. The strength flowed through him, almost startling in its intensity, but it was quickly tempered by the purpose driving him.

A brief, fleeting grin tugged at the corners of his lips. Out-jumping LeBron, huh? For a split second, the thought was almost amusing, a spark of normalcy in the chaos. But it faded just as quickly, and he pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand.

He climbed higher, his movements swift and agile, driven by desperation. His muscles burned with the effort, but the urgency of his mission dulled the pain. He scaled the tree quickly, the branches thinning as he neared the top, until finally, he broke through the canopy. Below him, the forest stretched endlessly in every direction, a sea of green swaying gently in the wind.

“Wow…” he breathed, the word slipping out unbidden. For a moment, he allowed himself to marvel at the beauty before him—the towering peaks of mountains to the north, the plains rolling into the horizon to the south, and far to the east, the gleaming outline of a city nestled against the curve of a wide, winding river. That must be where they’d head next, but his attention was locked on something far more immediate.

His heart leaped as he spotted movement—a small black dot moving along a narrow path through the trees. His friends. Relief surged through him, a brief flicker of hope.

But that hope was short-lived.

Something else caught his eye—something much larger, moving with terrifying speed from the north. An army. Roman’s blood ran cold as he squinted, trying to make out the details. Even from this distance, he could see the dark mass of soldiers, an unstoppable wave bearing down on the small dot that marked his friends.

“No…” The word barely escaped his lips, a hoarse whisper of disbelief. His mind flashed back to Eidon—the broken city, the devastation, the bodies. If this is the same force… He couldn’t let them reach his friends. He wouldn’t.

“I have to get to them before the army does!” Roman’s voice shook with urgency, his fear morphing into something sharper, more determined. Without wasting another second, he launched himself from the tree, letting gravity take him. His body dropped like a stone, free-falling for several heart-stopping seconds before his hand shot out, grabbing a branch to slow his descent. He hit the ground hard but rolled with the impact, already on his feet and sprinting before the dust settled.

The forest blurred around him, branches snapping at his face, tearing at his clothes, but he didn’t slow. Tears stung his eyes, a mixture of wind, pain, and the weight of his guilt, each drop a plea for forgiveness, for strength. His lungs burned, his legs ached, but none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was reaching them—before it was too late.

Faster. The thought pulsed in his mind like a heartbeat. Faster.

He pushed harder, his feet pounding the earth in a frantic rhythm, the wind rushing past him in deafening roars. It felt like the very forest was trying to hold him back—branches clawing at him, roots tripping him up—but every time he stumbled, he caught himself, refusing to stop. He couldn't stop.

Lord, I know I’ve failed. I know I’ve sinned. The prayer formed in his mind, unbidden, desperate. But please, just give me enough time. Just let me make it in time.

His breath came in ragged bursts, his muscles screaming for him to slow down, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. His friends’ faces swam before his eyes—Seth, Lexi, Jessika, Z. He had left them behind, vulnerable. He had abandoned them when they needed him most. Coward.

The word cut through him like a knife, but this time, it drove him forward. He had to be more than what his doubts told him. He had to be the person they needed.

Branches whipped at his face, cutting into his skin, but Roman barely felt it. The pain in his legs was secondary, the burn in his lungs a distant concern. All that mattered was the looming shadow of the army, and the small, fragile hope that he could make it to his friends before the nightmare descended.

As he tore through the forest, his heart thudding in his chest, the memories of his guilt, his failure, tried to drown him again. You can’t save them. The voice was there, a cruel whisper at the edge of his mind. You failed before. You’ll fail again.

“No,” he whispered, shaking his head violently. Not this time. His body hurtled forward, a blur of desperation and determination.

Please, God. Don’t let me fail again.

His legs carried him faster, his feet barely touching the ground as he sprinted through the undergrowth. He knew he was running on borrowed time, but for once, he prayed it would be enough.

The trees began to thin, and he knew he was close. “Seth! Lexi! Z! Jessika!” he shouted, his voice hoarse with desperation. But there was no answer, only the rustle of the wind through the leaves.

“Lexi!” He broke through the tree line and skidded to a halt, his heart plummeting at the sight before him. A group of armed men stood in a clearing, their weapons drawn. Roman’s eyes darted frantically around, searching for his friends.

“Halt!” A commanding voice rang out, cutting through the silence. “Identify yourself!”

“My name is Roman!” he called, his voice shaking with fear and adrenaline. “I was with a group of friends in the forest, but we got separated.”

“What are their names?” the man demanded, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

“Lexi, Seth, Z, and Jessika,” Roman answered, his heart hammering in his chest as he prayed they were safe.

“Stand down, men,” the leader ordered, and the tension in the air eased as the soldiers lowered their weapons. “You match the description and you know their names. You must be the one.”

“Where are they?” Roman asked urgently. “Are they okay?”

“They’re not here,” the leader said. “They went with the commander to report the attack to the King. We’re heading to Kenan to meet up with them. We’ll escort you there.”

Relief washed over Roman, the fear that had been gripping his heart easing slightly. “Thank you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. But then he remembered the army he had seen. “Wait! There’s a massive army heading this way, over the hill! I was running to warn you.”

He looked around at the soldiers—there were maybe fifty of them, well-armed and disciplined. But against the size of the force he had seen...

“I’ll climb that tree,” he said, pointing to a tall oak nearby, “and get a better look at what we’re facing.”

The leader nodded. “I have a scouting party out as well. If there’s something out there, we’ll know soon enough.”

Roman ran to the tree and jumped, the strength in his legs propelling him high into the air. He grabbed a branch and began to climb, his heart pounding with urgency. Within minutes, he was at the top, his eyes sweeping the landscape.

What he saw made his stomach drop. A vast sea of men was moving toward them, their armor glinting in the sunlight. Thousands of soldiers, marching in tight formation, their banners fluttering in the breeze. But that wasn’t the worst of it.

Farther back, beyond the initial force, was an even larger army, stretching as far as the eye could see, their ranks darkening the plains like a shadow. They were headed straight for the city he had seen in the distance.

God, there are so many… Roman dropped from the tree, his heart racing as he sprinted back to the leader.

“It’s worse than I thought,” he panted, struggling to catch his breath. “There’s an army heading toward us—thousands of men. But there’s a much larger force heading toward the city.”

The leader’s eyes widened. “How many?”

“Thousands,” Roman said, shaking his head. “I don’t know exactly. But it’s huge.”

The sergeant cursed under his breath. “We have no choice. We have to get to the city before they do. We might not be able to stop them, but we can warn them and help fortify the defenses.”

He turned to his men. “Double time! We move fast and try to reach the city before the enemy does.”

The soldiers snapped to attention, their faces grim. Roman followed them, his mind racing. He had to get back to his friends, to warn them about the danger heading their way. But more than that, he had to face the consequences of his actions.

The fear of losing control again, of hurting the people he cared about, gnawed at him. But he couldn’t let that stop him. He had to be better, stronger. He had to protect them, no matter the cost.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself as they set off. The path ahead was uncertain, but he would face it head-on. He had to.

For them.

For Jamie.

For himself.