What did you say?" Sapphire's voice came out as a whisper. He could barely believe what he was hearing.
"You heard right." Lucian said it flat, like talking was already draining him.
He was exhausted. From Ryven, from the bruises, the creatures and whatever was crawling in his head. And now this.
Kealor tried to smooth the tension before it boiled. Sapphire had spent months holding them together, forcing smiles, pulling them along. This was the crack.
"What's wrong with you?" Sapphire said, anger finally breaking through.
"Sapph—" Kealor tried.
But Sapphire didn't hear him. Reason was gone.
"Ever since Kira entered our group, you've been dismissive and hostile."
"She's done nothing wrong. She's just like us."
"Why can't you accept her?"
Lucian still didn't look up. "She's barely been here and look at all the trouble we've been through. You're the current example."
"Lucian!" This time Kealor was the one losing his temper.
"It wasn't her fault," Sapphire said.
Lucian finally turned his head. His eyes were dead. "Defend her all you want. It won't change anything. The whole place is heavily guarded now. Our movements are restricted."
The words hit Sapphire like cold water.
"You—!" Sapphire started, but voices came from outside the tent.
_______
Boots hit dirt outside. Fabric rustled as Famir approached his tent, Ryven right behind him.
"You told Chet." Ryven didn't ask. He stated it.
"Hmm." Famir confirmed.
"Why?"
"No reason."
Ryven's steps got faster. "You could've retrieved the kid yourself. Why drag Chet into it?"
Famir didn't answer. He continued forward.
"It's not like you gain anything from this." Anger cracked Ryven's voice. "Why interfere?"
Famir turned at the sound. Slow. "You instruct them. You don't decide who is ready for slaughter."
"And he does?" Ryven shot back. They both knew who he meant.
Famir's eyes went flat. "Do you want to be him?"
Ryven flinched. "I know you hate him. But this— this is the same thing he'd do."
"If the target's gone, the others live longer," Ryven said. His voice tried to sound logical. It didn't.
Famir closed the distance between them in one step. "And how's that working for you?"
Silence fell as they refused to speak, letting the question settle.
"Remeber. Sidelining a goose from the chicken doesn't mean all won't be eaten"
He pushed through the tent flap and let it fall. Outside, Ryven was left with nothing but air.
Inside, Famir looked up. Four pairs of eyes stared back at him from the dark.
"Huh. Full house." He said it like it didn't matter. Like they hadn't heard everything.
_______
Chet moved through the forest at dusk. Forest leaves battled against the coming night wind. Every step was silent, every sense alert.
He'd been called here. And he knew who it was down to the bone. Bad blood aside, someone needed to be pulled out of Eoman's hands.
Of all the people to call, it was him.
Slightly irritated at the turn of events.
'These kids barely know how to survive,' he thought, jaw tight. 'And instead of helping, you're teaching them how to lose the will to live.
The year has nearly reached its end
And soon the children will be in his hands…'
______
Prior to confrontation, Before Chet himself nearly went amok.
Among the far halls. Night light poured through the window, dust falling like stars.
Two figures. Far apart. One at the glass. One just before it.
"There's a child stuck in the crevices." Famir didn't turn.
Chet kept staring out. "Why tell me?"
"Another child is in my hand. He seeks his demise in order to save this one."
"Then go save her."
"I can. It'll be more stressful."
Chet's jaw tightened. "I hope she's still alive. Staying down there that long is enough to break anyone." Famir continued
"How long?"
"Today marks the third."
Silence.
A few more conversations went on between them before Famir turned to leave,
But then paused at the door. Didn't turn.
"I feel a vague familiarity whenever I see that child."
The door shut. Left Chet alone with his thoughts.
Still staring out of the window, processing, calculating until a loud thud interrupted him.
Not loud enough to sound like someone hitting the window with force but it was loud
His eyes that glanced straight tilted down to view creature making that insistent thuds,
A medium size bird, falling short of a crow, had black feather with little red here and there and held black orbs.
Between his beak was a neatly folded paper
Chet stared at the bird, this wasn't their messenger bird. So what was this doing here?.
The bird, having no reply thought it wasn't heard, took flight, gained momentum, formed an arc, swept in and crashed its head onto the window.
Chet eyebrows went up at the spectacle, surprised.
The bird did it a couple more times, that blood was a different colour from its red feathers.
By the time it had swopped in for a crash. Chet opened the window. Landing onto his palm, which cushioned it, displacing the accumulated speed.
The bird adjusted itself. Chet then set it down on the windowseal and looked at the bird in question before taking the paper from the bird.
As soon as he did that, a disturbing noise came out from the bird like it was in distress. The bird twisted and turned. Its body began disintegrating from the inside out like what was left of a burning paper.
Nothing left but ash. Swept away by a soft breeze.
The paper rustled under his fingers as he opened it up to view what was written.
Sobre, a look of questions. double thoughts and anger all passed through his face like interchanging slots.
He nearly folded the paper and tucked it within the hidden folds of his sleeves.
Exiting the hall.
______
At the time of confrontation, after the grand spectacle in front of the kid, Chet still seething with anger had Ryven following behind him.
"I can send men to bring the kid" Ryven said,
"Don't bother, all they would meet is stone and cold" Chet said as had gone the very night before.
"What difference does it make if that child is taken by Eoman. Won't it be better"
"You aren't giving any permission to kill them, it's not your to make"
"Almost sounds hypocritical, knowing that children's blood is already on our hand" Ryven said
"There is difference between test and punishment" Chet shot back.
______
… Ryven you imbecile. Can't you separate your anger from logic' Chet thought ran but was immediately pulled back as his nape hair stood astonishingly tall.
A killing intent cut the air. Not wind. Chet drew his sword, deflected then jumped two paces back. Where he'd stood, spikes burst from the ground.
"Still agile as ever." A mocking voice filled with acknowledgement echoed throughout the vast forest as Chet landed,
"Eoman" He said calmly,
"I am quite surprised that you came"
Chet didn't turn. "You sent the letter."
"And yet you came." A hand emerged from a tree behind him, reaching to strike.
Chet spun. The blade came down. The hand dissolved into mist. The tree split and crashed, dust rising.
"It was nice of you to grace us with your presence"
A hooded figure stepped out from the shadows.
"Knowing I took one of yours," Eoman said.
The edge of Chet's blade pressed to his neck before the words finished. A thin line of blood welled.
Eoman smiled at the steel. "Mind your next words." Chet hissed. But retreated once more
Spikes erupted from the ground, tracking Chet. He moved, sword shattering stone. His body blurred. For a heartbeat there were two of him — one meeting Eoman head-on, the other cutting from the side. Then one again.
Blood ran down Chet's blade.
"I never figured out that skill," Eoman rasped from behind him. His face was split open, neck sliced through, blood spraying. He was still talking. Still laughing.
His body collapsed into ash, then reformed. Whole. Breathing like he'd just woken up.
Chet didn't blink. "Where is she?"
Who?"
"The girl in the crevices."
"Breathing. Alive."
"Hand her over."
Eoman tilted his head. "Why would I?"
"Then why call me?"
Eoman feigned a hurt look. "It was sad, seeing our young lady at death's door. Tell Ryven for me: 'Don't worry. I'll leave enough flock for him to herd.' If they make it."
He chuckled. Then, bored: "Ugh. I'm tired."
Chet's voice dropped. "You let her live. Why?"
"Huh?"
"You let this one live, why?" Chet repeated the question slowly and deliberately making sure Eoman heard him word from word.
Eoman's eyes widened like he'd been asked something fun. He looked up, thinking. Chet knew the answer was already on his tongue.
"For now," Eoman said, smiling thin, "you can say she's worth our interest."
Chet said nothing. He wouldn't get more.
"Good we met," Eoman said. "Knowing me has cost you."
Chet's grip tightened. "It has."
Eoman's red eyes glowed. "Down south, where the forest becomes meadow, Our lady rests."
His body started peeling into ash.
"What are you planning to achieve?" Chet asked.
No answer.
"Who's 'our'?" Chet asked as Eoman dissolved.
Eoman's last words came on a laugh: "Revelations come with time."