After Father went to the town, he returned not alone but with a priest from the local church. I already knew, thanks to my magic training with Mother, that no spells could completely heal a person. Only a few could temporarily sustain life. The skills of swordsmen were also limited—they couldn't deal with diseases or severe internal injuries.
Priests, however, possessed a mysterious «divine power.» No one knew exactly how it worked. In the books I read, there were no specifics, only mentions of their training in the church. Even Ellin, with her vast knowledge, couldn't tell me much.
The priest Father brought didn't seem particularly remarkable at first glance, except for his long robe adorned with golden patterns. He was young, around twenty-five years old, with short hair, a sturdy build, and an open, almost ordinary face. He wore no jewelry or accessories and might have blended into the crowd if not for one detail.
As soon as he entered the room, I felt a warm, soothing aura emanating from him. This aura filled the space with a gentle light, easing fatigue and anxiety. It seemed to reach into the soul, making my heart beat just a little slower.
— "Hello," — he said quietly and, after a brief pause, added, — "Please leave the room."
Ellin froze for a moment, clearly taken aback.
— "Huh? Oh, yes, of course," — she mumbled, a bit flustered.
She approached me, placing a hand on my shoulder and pulling me gently into a hug.
— "Let's go, Ruwen," — Ellin said, softly guiding me toward the door.
At the doorway, I couldn't help but turn back and ask:
— "She'll be alright, won't she?"
The priest looked at me with calm, steady eyes.
— "Of course," — he replied simply, his voice filled with unshakable confidence.
«What else can I do but trust him?» — I thought as I left the room.
At the threshold, I turned one last time to look at her. Her faint smile still lingered on her face, but the blood trailing from the corners of her lips and the terrible wound on her chest shattered this fragile image of peace. That vision, both beautiful and horrifying, seemed to etch itself into my memory.
...
After we left the room, everyone headed to the kitchen. We silently sat around the table, and the quiet immediately filled the space around us. This silence wasn't just emptiness—it felt heavy, pressing down on our shoulders, tearing through the air like an oppressive weight.
I glanced around. The expressions on their faces spoke louder than any words: worry, helplessness, exhaustion. It seemed as though each of us was retreating into our own thoughts, but the silence was too crushing to last long.
Rei was the first to break it.
— "So… what happened?" — he asked, rubbing his face tiredly and leaning on the table with one elbow.
Ellin sat across from him, as if lost in her own world. Her shoulders trembled slightly, and her gaze was fixed somewhere in the distance. She hesitated, then, with a voice that quivered despite her efforts, began to speak.
— "They… attacked us… while we were hanging the laundry." — she said, her voice shaking.
Rei frowned, seeing how hard it was for her to get the words out. He stood, walked over to her, and gently placed his arms around her shoulders. Unable to hold back any longer, she broke down, clutching him tightly and sobbing uncontrollably.
When her cries subsided a little, Ellin began her story.
— "It happened just as we were finishing up with the laundry. Marika was the first to notice the strangers. There were several of them, all dressed alike. At first glance, they seemed like ordinary men, but… that was just an illusion. Marika approached me, whispering cautiously that she thought they were up to something. Within moments, they were standing in front of our house."
She took a deep breath, covering her face with her hands, as if reliving the horror again. After a pause, she continued.
— "I felt something was wrong immediately and told Marika to go inside. She… hesitated at first, but eventually, she listened. These men kept getting closer, and their presence radiated fear—real, searing fear. I knew they weren't here with good intentions."
Ellin nervously ran a hand through her hair.
— "I began casting a spell as soon as I saw their faces… But the moment I made the first gesture, they lunged forward, drawing their swords. There were two of them. Fighting two at once is always harder, even if they aren't particularly strong. The battle was intense."
Her voice broke, but she forced herself to continue.
— "At one point, I was too focused on one of them and didn't notice the other moving behind me. I thought it was over, but… Marika. She… she grabbed the family sword and rushed to help."
Tears welled up in her eyes again, but she pressed on.
— "She managed to protect me, but she got injured… while trying to block a strike. It all happened so fast. I managed to take down one of them, but the other escaped. I don't even know where he went."
Ellin buried her face in her hands, her voice dropping to a whisper.
— "I barely managed to drag her inside… and then you returned."
The room fell silent once more, but this time it felt different. Heavy, charged with unspoken tension.
I felt guilt gnawing at me. If I had stayed, if I hadn't left, things might have been different. That voice in my head wouldn't stop, poisoning my thoughts and making my heart ache.
I got up from the table and walked over to Ellin. She sat hunched over, as if trying to shield herself from her own memories, and the sight tore at my soul. I placed my hands on her shoulders and softly said:
— "I'm sorry… If I had stayed, none of this would've happened."
Ellin slowly raised her tear-streaked eyes to meet mine. Her gaze held despair but also a faint glimmer of resolve. She reached out and embraced me in return, her hands warm but trembling.
— "No, Ruen, it's not your fault," — she said quietly but firmly. — "You couldn't have known. None of us could."
Her words were meant to reassure me, but they couldn't quiet my guilt. It felt like I was just making excuses, while the truth remained: I had left, and they were left to face danger alone.
Before I could respond, the door leading to the room quietly opened, and the priest appeared in the doorway. He looked calm as ever, though there was a faint trace of weariness on his face.
— "You may come in," — he announced in a steady, warm voice.
We immediately jumped up and rushed into the room. Marika was lying on the bed, her face pale but no longer twisted in deathly agony as it had been before. Her breathing was weak but steady, and the terrible wound on her chest had turned into a barely noticeable scar. She was unconscious.
I looked at her, feeling both relief and guilt at the same time. Only one thought filled my mind: alive.
The priest stepped closer, reached for one of the bedside tables, and pulled out a scroll covered in mysterious symbols.
—«Her life is no longer in danger, but she is still weak. Let her rest. In a couple of days, she'll be able to get up.»
He turned to us, adding after a brief pause:
—«Thank those who watch over us from above,»—and with these words, he headed for the exit.
There was confidence in his voice, bordering on reverence, but despite all he had said, one question wouldn't leave my mind: how does all of this work?
We stayed near Marika. Ellin watched her with such relief, as if she herself had been brought back to life. I sat down beside her, took her cold hand, and promised myself: No one will suffer because of my helplessness again. No one.
…
We parted to our rooms. Father said he would write a letter to the capital, while Mother stayed with Marika. I went to my room, pondering everything that had happened today. The day had been anything but easy…
Later, deep into the night, I lay in my bed, unable to sleep. My mind was restless, filled with unease. Something was wrong. Something wouldn't let me be, and I couldn't ignore it. My instincts, my experience, my feelings—they all told me I needed to go out and check the city. And so I decided to act.
I left the house, armed with my sword and dressed in a cloak, heading into the city. My mana reserves had almost fully recovered after all that had happened, and I was ready to use my powers if necessary. Thus prepared, I set out to survey the city.
As I approached the town, I slowed my steps, trying to conceal my presence as much as possible. The rooftops were the safest route—staying out in the open streets was too dangerous. I channeled mana into my legs and leapt onto the roof of the nearest building. From there, hidden in the shadows, I began to move. Jumping from one roof to another, I repeatedly used mana to enhance my legs and maintain balance.
The dark streets were empty, the air cold, and every rustle sounded louder than it should. I walked, feeling the growing tension in the air. When I reached the central square, I noticed a group of people. They immediately stood out—not because of their clothes, but because of the way they moved. In dark cloaks with hoods concealing their faces, they carried themselves calmly, but there was a purposefulness, an urgency in their movements. They were too confident to be ordinary townsfolk.
I froze, observing them. Their movements were precise and coordinated, like hunters. Their conversations—low whispers—carried strange, ominous undertones, as if they spoke in a language foreign to me. Their gestures exuded a confidence far too strong for regular citizens.
I crouched at the edge of the roof, watching them. What were they searching for? They were scanning the streets, as though looking for something—or someone. These people moved without glancing back, but I could feel their vigilance. A palpable threat hung in the air around them.
I stood, unsure of what to do. But a decision had to be made quickly. I chose to follow them. Staying at a safe distance to avoid detection, I trailed after them.
I followed them until they left the city. They simply wandered the streets, inspecting them, but did nothing overtly strange. They headed toward the outskirts of the city. My steps grew more cautious when I realized they were heading into the forest that stretched toward the Beastkin Kingdom.
This was odd. That same forest had been the destination of the bandits who had attacked us earlier. My heart beat faster as I realized this. I knew I needed to retreat and prepare. Acting rashly would be too dangerous.
But I couldn't abandon this lead—they were likely heading to a camp, which meant I could find their hideout. My mana, though not fully restored, had recovered enough for me to escape if needed.
I followed them deeper into the forest, trying to remain unnoticed. Hiding among the trees and using mana to leap from branch to branch, I moved cautiously, completely focused on their movements. After a while, I saw the faint glow of a campfire in the distance. A camp. It was their camp.
From my hiding spot, I surveyed the area. Several tents, piles of crates and cages, a smoldering fire around which the same figures gathered. I couldn't see much—it was too dark. I counted about ten people, but I felt this was likely only part of their forces.
I knew attacking now would be suicide. I had to return and prepare. Learn more about them, gather equipment, and possibly allies.
With this thought, I quietly retreated. The forest, shrouded in shadows, seemed intent on holding me back, but I was careful. Returning to the edge of the trees, I looked around once more to ensure I wasn't being followed, then hurried back to the city.
This night gave me answers but raised even more questions. Now I knew exactly where to go. And next time, I would return prepared.
…
…
…
End of Chapter 11.