Requiem of the Forgotten

The morning air was crisp, the kind that usually jolted me awake. But today, it felt heavy, suffocating. As if the entire weight of yesterday's humiliation still lingered in the air. I sat at the edge of the campfire, watching the embers crackle and spit, feeling the rough wooden seat dig into my back.

Around me, the others were stirring. Amina stretched her arms with a low groan, Daisuke rubbed his temples as if piecing together his usual over-analysis of events, and Caelith sat eerily still, his silver eyes reflecting the dancing flames. Carmen, however, was already standing, arms crossed, tapping her foot against the dirt with a restless impatience.

"Alright, boss," she said, her voice cutting through the morning quiet like a blade. "What's the plan?"

I blinked at her. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. What the hell was the plan?

Silence stretched between us, thick and unbearable. Carmen stared, waiting for an answer, while the others turned their heads toward me, their expressions expectant.

I inhaled slowly, rubbing a hand down my face. "I have no fucking clue."

Carmen rolled her eyes so hard I thought she might pass out. "Great. Fantastic. I love that for us."

Amina shifted beside me. "Maybe we should talk to Lydia first. See what our options are."

Carmen scoffed. "Oh yeah? Talk? Like what we did yesterday? Real productive, huh?" She threw up her hands and took a step back. "Nah, screw that. I'll handle this myself."

The instant she turned toward the building, alarm bells went off in my head. "Carmen—wait—"

Too late.

She was already marching across the square, a woman on a warpath. Her braids bounced with every aggressive step, her fists clenched like she was about to start swinging at the first person who dared to look at her the wrong way.

"Oh fuck," I muttered, shoving myself up and scrambling after her. "Carmen, wait!"

She didn't wait. Of course, she didn't fucking wait.

By the time I caught up, she had already shoved open the doors of the grand meeting hall.

Inside, the atmosphere was tense. The wooden walls and vaulted ceiling gave the room a grand presence, but the faces that turned toward us were anything but welcoming. Representatives of every race sat around a long, polished table—Elves with unreadable expressions, Dwarves stroking their beards, Human leaders leaning forward with mild irritation. Lydia sat toward the middle, composed but visibly weary.

Then, there was Carmen.

She stepped right into the center of the room, arms spread wide, a smirk that was more of a challenge playing on her lips.

"Alright, you pompous, arrogant, inbred sons of bitches, listen up."

The room froze.

I swear I heard someone choke on their drink.

Lydia shut her eyes as if she was already mentally preparing to disown us. Nikita, sitting amongst the human representatives, exhaled sharply—then, to my utter disbelief, I saw the faintest trace of a grin twitch at the corner of his mouth.

A Dwarf sputtered into his beard. A High Elf lifted a delicate brow. Someone whispered a horrified, "What did she just say?"

Carmen didn't even hesitate. She started pacing the room like a goddamn lion.

"Let's go down the list, shall we? Dwarves—big, loud, and tough as hell. Except, what have you actually done besides sit in your little mountain forts, polishing your axes and sniffing ale? Oh wait, sorry—did I offend the great underground lords of self-importance?"

The Dwarven leader's jaw twitched. His beard bristled. "You are testing dangerous waters, girl."

"Oh, I'm just getting started," she shot back. Then, she spun on her heel to face the Elves.

"Elves! Tall, pretty, elegant as hell, and absolutely useless in a crisis. You think you're better than us? Guess what, pointy ears, we're all stuck in the same fucking nightmare. You act like you have some grand authority, but let's be real—you're just as lost as the rest of us."

Gasps. Pure scandalized gasps filled the hall.

I buried my face in my hands.

But Carmen wasn't finished.

"And humans—oh, let's talk about you!" She whirled around, pointing at the human representatives, who were shifting uncomfortably. "You guys sit around playing politics while people are dying. You act like this is some fucking chess game when it's our lives on the board. You think Dragontown is a joke? Let's see who's laughing when we're still standing and you're all kissing our ass for help."

Silence.

A sharp, crackling silence.

Lydia's face was unreadable. The Elves looked like they wanted to stab her on the spot. The Dwarves muttered among themselves. One of the human leaders—an older man with deep frown lines—leaned forward and asked slowly, "Are you quite done?"

Carmen smiled. A wide, dangerous smile.

"Oh, not yet," she said, and then dropped the nuclear bomb.

"By the way, we found an ancient ruin in Dragontown. And guess what? There's a fucking dragon inside."

Absolute chaos.

The table erupted in noise. Shouting, gasping, disbelief. Even the calmest representatives lost their composure. Lydia's eyes widened a fraction. The Dwarves exchanged sharp glances. The Elves sat stiff as statues. Even Nikita's eyebrows shot up in mild surprise.

Carmen watched it all unfold, arms crossed, the smuggest fucking look on her face.

"You're lying," someone accused.

She shrugged. "Yeah? Try me."

The shouting intensified. The room was spiraling into madness. And just as they started demanding answers—

Carmen turned for the door and, without looking back, threw over her shoulder, "You can all go fuck yourselves. We're done here."

Then she walked out.

I stood there, frozen.

No one moved. Not the Elves, not the Dwarves, not the humans.

And then, Nikita—fucking Nikita—actually let out a laugh.

The ride back was silent. The landscape stretched ahead of us, open fields, winding dirt roads, rolling hills that should have been peaceful. But my mind was a storm. We had no allies. No political standing. We were on our own.

No one spoke for the longest time. Even Carmen, who had just verbally eviscerated half the continent, kept quiet. Amina's hands were tight on her reins, Daisuke was lost in thought, Caelith as unreadable as ever.

The wind howled. The trees whispered. The road stretched on.

And then, finally, I muttered the only truth left:

"So we are now on our fucking own."