I stalked up on of the last foothills that stood between us, and an approaching army. As I peered over it, my heart sank, though I hid it with disbelieving laughter.
"What?" Fern asked as I turned to her. Turned to the eleven of us.
What was left.
We weren't the heroes.
We weren't the great and powerful.
We were just kids, at one point, and even now, I could still see them, see me, as we were. Kids, before they failed.
The heroes. They had failed. Died. Lost. And they had left us.
Powerful, yes, but not heroes. But no stretch.
As I said, we were just kids.
And I was going to be the one to lead them to their death.
"How many." Salt asked. She was the second oldest, and yet, she was still just under eighteen winters.
"Twenty thousand. At least." I said, sweeping my eyes over them.
Fern, the youngest, with twelve winters, and yet maybe the most powerful, twisting some of her crystal like hair in her fingers.
Jason, the second, once again twelve winters, clenching and unclenching his fists.
Zara, one of the three triplets, eyes as dark as the night, without whites or color, spinning her stave.
Zen, the second triplet, bouncing on her heels, leaning on Vail, who stood stock still, eyes wide, shaven head glinting, an old joke among them.
Ziv, crouched on the ground, grimacing, twin swords drawn, sixteen winters, like the rest of them.
Delta, shimmering in and out of view, rubbing his hands together, his age the same as the triplets, but scarred by this more than any other of them.
Rush, gauntlets claws extended, shredding a tree slowly, glaring, uselessly, at the hill that blocked her view to the army.
Base and Bane, the twins, each compact, each sixteen winters, each able to hold their own much better than any sixteen year old should, even now cursing.
And Salt, calm, as always, white hair mirroring her pail skin, her usually active hands now simply on the hilts of her swords.
"Twenty thousand. Against ten of us." I said again. "We can't fight, even if Cornorith is threatened."
"Then what do we do?" Zara asked.
"We run." Delta said, grimacing. "We have no choice."
"No." I said. "Someone has to slow them down. They will catch you eventually if we run now."
"No." Salt said. "Rav, we all go, or none of us do." She shifted towards him, glaring.
"Too bad." I said, glaring back.
"Then I'll stay." Salt said, crossing her arms.
"Me too." Fern said nervously. All the others, all together or nothing idiots, nodded.
"We need to move now." Salt said. "And I mean now. Rac, move your ass. You may be oldest, but I sure as hell ain't following your orders."
I grimaced, glaring at her, before nodding. "Fine." I said. "But this is going to get us killed."
"Move." Salt said, pointing back the way they had come.
And thus, we ran. For the first time in so long, we ran.
At first, there were thirty of us.
Thirty.
They were the heroes.
They were our only chance.
And they died.
And they died.
And then, it was fifteen.
And then, it was eleven.
Eleven, and all we can do is run.