Arya stood behind Aisha, his senses heightened. Aisha glanced around, but there was no one in sight. "Brother, I think we're in a safe place," she said, her voice laced with relief.
But before she could finish her sentence, a sharp whistle of wind cut through the air, and an arrow came speeding toward her. In that split second, Arya acted without thinking—his hand reached out, grabbing the arrow mid-flight, just inches from Aisha.
Aisha gasped and watched in horror as Arya's hand began to bleed from the impact. Despite his blindness and weakness, he had managed to stop the arrow, but at a cost. He was already exhausted, and his strength was fading fast.
Blood dripped from his palm as he gritted his teeth, fighting through the pain. "They're here," Arya said quietly, his voice filled with urgency.
Aisha's eyes widened as she noticed the blood. "Brother, your hand!"
"I'm fine," he said, his voice sharp with determination. "We need to move."
Arya grabbed her hand, his grip tight but gentle as he led her away. "Aisha, can you tell me which way we're going?" he asked, his voice filled with quiet strength.
"Right, brother," Aisha said. "There's a main road ahead. There are many people, but they won't notice us."
Aisha led him toward a wall to hide, pulling him into the shadows. Her heart raced, and she whispered urgently, "Brother, they're everywhere. What will we do?"
Arya's voice softened, his calm reassuring her. "Don't worry, Aisha. I'm with you. You're recovering. The medicine is working."
He paused for a moment before continuing, his tone becoming more serious. "People will misunderstand you. They'll think you're a monster, but if they knew the truth, they'd help us. Later, we can talk to the assassin team, and we'll find a way out of this."
Aisha's heart swelled with gratitude and fear, but she nodded. Arya was right. They had to keep moving, and they would face the challenges ahead together.
Before Aisha could take a step forward, Arya grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.
"I can't go now," he said, his voice tense.
"Why, brother?" Aisha asked, confused. "They are here—we can ask for help!"
"No, we can't." Arya's grip tightened. "If we go in front of them now, they'll kill us. They're too angry to listen to anything we say. Just wait. Once they calm down, we can try—but not now. For now, we need to leave before they find us."
Aisha hesitated but nodded. Together, they moved through the back alleys, slipping away from the chaos. After a few minutes, they reached an empty road.
The street was eerily silent.
Arya grabbed Aisha's hand. "Come, let's cross quickly."
Just as they stepped onto the road—
A loud screech.
A jeep came speeding toward them.
"Aisha!" Arya shouted.
In an instant, he shoved Aisha to the side. The force sent her rolling onto the pavement.
The next moment, the jeep slammed into Arya. His body was flung into the air before crashing onto the hard asphalt. Pain exploded through him, pinning him down like a weight he couldn't escape.
Aisha scrambled to her feet and rushed toward him. "Brother!"
The jeep's doors swung open.
Men dressed in black stepped out—assassins. Many of them.
Aisha's breath hitched. "Brother, they're coming!"
Arya tried to stand, but his legs buckled. He collapsed again.
The assassins surrounded them. A second car pulled up, and more assassins stepped out.
One of them grabbed Aisha's arm.
"No!" She clung to Arya, her small hands gripping his torn sleeve tightly. "Brother!"
They yanked her away, but she refused to let go.
A hard blow struck her back—a baton smashing into her ribs. She gasped in pain but still held on.
Another hit.
And another.
Aisha cried out, yet she wouldn't release Arya's hand.
Arya, barely conscious, saw blood dripping from her lips as she was beaten down. His fingers twitched, desperate to move, desperate to save her—but he couldn't.
Then—
A sharp pull.
One assassin dragged Arya in one direction, while another yanked Aisha the other way.
Their hands—Aisha's right and Arya's left—remained locked together.
Aisha struggled against the assassin's grip, her small hands reaching toward Arya. Tears streamed down her face as she pleaded, her voice trembling.
"Please… I want to stay with my brother! Don't kill me! I'm not a monster! Look—my curse mark is gone!" She lifted her arm, desperately showing them the smooth skin where the mark once was. "Please, just look!"
But the assassins didn't listen.
Their expressions were cold, unyielding.
Her cries fell on deaf ears.
An assassin stepped forward. He raised a baton high—
And brought it down.
A sickening crack.
Arya's fingers were torn from Aisha's grasp. She was ripped away, thrown into the car like an object.
Arya, still on the ground, reached for her.
"Aisha—!"
A roar erupted from the crowd.
"Kill them!"
"Monsters don't deserve to live!"
"Kill, kill, kill!"
Rocks flew through the air. One struck Arya's head.
He staggered. Blood trickled down his forehead, mixing with the dirt beneath him. His vision blurred.
He wanted to move—to run—to fight back. But his body wouldn't listen. He was too weak. Too broken.
He could only watch as they closed in on him, hatred burning in their eyes. His sister—he had to save her. But how?
There was only one way.
The young man's offer.
Before he could think—before he could decide—
Another rock.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
Arya was forced into the car, his body weak and bruised. Outside, the angry crowd shouted, their voices blending into a single, deafening chant.
"Kill him!"
"Kill the monster's protector!"
The car lurched forward.
In the jeep ahead, Aisha's tear-filled eyes locked onto Arya through the back window. He was getting further and further away.
"No!" She screamed, her voice raw with desperation. "Please, don't take my brother away! I'm not a monster! Just let me go!"
She struggled, but the assassin beside her barely spared a glance before swinging his stick.
Crack!
Pain exploded in Aisha's skull. Her cry died in her throat as the world around her blurred. Her vision darkened, her body swayed, and her fingers weakly reached out—toward Arya, toward the only family she had left.
But before she could grasp anything, her strength gave out.
She collapsed.