Crown of Thorns and Roses

The first rays of dawn streaked the horizon, casting a pale light over the camp. The survivors were already awake, some gathering firewood, others practicing with crude weapons—broken farming tools, sharpened sticks, and rusted blades scavenged from forgotten places. It wasn't much, but it was a beginning.

Elena stood at the center of the clearing, watching them with a mix of pride and unease. These were her people, fragile and determined, clinging to hope as though it were a shield. They looked to her now as their leader. The thought was as terrifying as it was humbling.

"You'll need more than sticks and hope to win a war," Cassian said as he approached, his voice calm but edged with warning.

Elena turned to face him. "I know. But we don't have time or resources to do better. Not yet."

Cassian's silver eyes scanned the clearing, his brow furrowing slightly. "Weapons can be forged, alliances can be made. But you're not thinking about what comes next, are you?"

"What do you mean?" Elena asked, frowning.

Cassian tilted his head, studying her. "War isn't just about swords and battles, Elena. It's about strategy. Knowing your enemy and what they'll do before they do it."

"Lucian has the numbers," Elena admitted. "His army is trained and ruthless. We can't win by fighting him head-on."

"Exactly," Cassian replied. "Then you don't fight him on his terms."

Elena looked at him sharply. "What are you suggesting?"

Cassian's lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile. "You fight smart. Hit him where he's weakest. Make him bleed bit by bit. Guerrilla tactics."

"Guerrilla tactics?" Elena frowned. "You mean hiding in the shadows and picking him off like thieves?"

"I mean surviving," Cassian said firmly. "Until you're ready to face him outright."

Elena's jaw tightened, but she nodded. "Then teach me. Teach us."

Cassian regarded her for a moment, his expression softening slightly. "It won't be easy. You'll lose people. Some will question you."

"I don't care," Elena said. "We don't have a choice."

Cassian nodded. "Then we begin now."

By midday, the camp had transformed into something almost unrecognizable. Under Cassian's watchful eye, groups practiced moving silently through the forest, striking makeshift targets, and blending back into the shadows. Elena watched them carefully, helping when she could.

"You're not half-bad with a bow," Cassian remarked, as he handed her an arrow.

Elena drew it across the string and released it, the arrow striking a crude target made of straw and cloth. "I spent my childhood sneaking out to hunt in the woods," she said. "Turns out that running from my tutors had its benefits."

Cassian smirked faintly. "And here I thought princesses spent their days embroidering cushions."

Elena shot him a look, though there was no real heat behind it. "Clearly, you've never met my tutors. They would have made war look relaxing."

For a moment, the two shared something that almost felt like camaraderie—lighter than the darkness pressing at their heels. But the moment didn't last. A shout broke through the air, followed by hurried footsteps.

"Elena!"

Elena turned sharply as a young scout—barely more than a boy—burst into the clearing, panting heavily. His face was flushed, eyes wide with panic.

"What is it?" Elena demanded.

"Soldiers," the boy gasped. "Lucian's soldiers are coming. They're less than an hour away."

The camp fell silent. All eyes turned to Elena.

She felt a cold spike of fear, but she pushed it down, forcing her voice to remain steady. "How many?"

"At least thirty," the boy said. "Maybe more. They've got armor and swords. They're searching the area."

Cassian stepped forward, his face hardening. "They'll find this camp if we don't act now."

Panic rippled through the crowd. People whispered, gathering their belongings in trembling hands.

Elena raised her voice. "Stop!"

The survivors froze, turning to look at her.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself. "We knew this would happen. Lucian's men were always going to come looking for us. But we're not going to run. Not this time."

Murmurs of doubt rose, but Elena ignored them, turning to Cassian. "You said we have to fight smart. So let's do it."

Cassian nodded slowly, a glint of approval in his eyes. "We'll set traps. Ambush them in the trees. Use the forest against them."

Elena turned back to the crowd. "Everyone who can fight, follow Cassian. The rest of you—move deeper into the woods. Stay hidden. Trust us."

The survivors hesitated, but one by one, they nodded.

The forest was silent when the soldiers arrived, their armor clinking softly as they moved through the underbrush. They were confident, their swords gleaming in the afternoon light. Too confident.

From her perch in the trees, Elena watched them approach. Her bow was steady in her hands, her breath slow and controlled. Cassian's voice echoed in her mind: Wait for my signal.

The soldiers passed beneath her, oblivious to the dozens of eyes watching them. They moved in formation, scanning the shadows, weapons ready.

And then—

A loud snap echoed through the forest as one soldier's foot triggered a trap. He fell into a hidden pit, his scream piercing the air. Chaos erupted.

"Now!" Cassian's voice rang out.

Elena loosed her arrow, watching as it struck a soldier's leg. The man cried out, dropping to the ground. All around her, the survivors emerged from the shadows, attacking in coordinated strikes.

Rocks and spears flew through the air. Crude weapons bit into flesh. The soldiers faltered, unprepared for the ambush.

Elena leapt from her perch, drawing her dagger as she landed. A soldier turned to face her, his sword raised. She ducked beneath his swing and drove the blade into his side. He fell, gasping.

"Hold the line!" another soldier shouted, rallying his men.

But it was too late. The forest itself was the enemy now, its shadows filled with fury. The survivors fought with desperation, with anger born of loss and survival.

And at the center of it all was Elena, her dagger flashing as she cut through the chaos, leading them forward.

By the time the last soldier fell, the forest was quiet again.

Elena stood in the clearing, her chest heaving, her hands stained with blood. Around her, the survivors began to emerge, their faces a mixture of exhaustion and awe.

Cassian approached, his sword dripping red. "You did well."

Elena looked at the bodies scattered across the ground, her voice hollow. "Is this what it takes to win?"

Cassian's silver eyes met hers. "Sometimes, yes."

She nodded slowly, the weight of what they had done settling on her shoulders. But as she looked at the survivors—at the spark of hope in their eyes—she knew they had taken their first step forward.

"This is just the beginning," she said softly.

Cassian stood beside her, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "Then let's make sure it's worth it."