Minutes later, Aris sat on the edge of his straw bed, devouring his meal with a single-minded hunger. Across from him, Lilly—finally coaxed from her heavy, exhausted sleep—was not to be outdone. Her small hands moved with frantic speed, tearing meat from the bones with a feral intensity. She was still wrapped in layers of clothing.
Watching her face, partially lit by the flickering orange glow of a candle, Aris felt his expression soften in a way he couldn't quite control. For a heartbeat, the chief, the orcish masters, and the precarious reality of their survival, all of it faded into the background.
"Eat slowly," he said, his voice softer than he intended. "The food isn't going anywhere."
Lilly paused, a piece of chicken held halfway to her mouth, and looked at him. Her eyes were regaining their brightness, a spark of familiar defiance. "You're just like me, brother," she shot back, grabbing the cup of water to wash down a mouthful before tearing into the meat again.
"This is too delicious. I've never tasted anything like it. Where did you get it?" She glanced toward the dark corners of the room, to the third bed, her brow furrowing. "And where is Sister Eris? Isn't she eating with us?"
The moment the name left her lips, the life vanished from Aris's face. The flickering orange candlelight seemed to deepen the shadows beneath his eyes, carving a mask of sudden, crushing weariness into his features.
Lilly looked from the meat to her brother's face, then to the unnatural stillness in his shoulders and the heavy gravity of his silence. Suddenly the meal lost all flavor. Her heart hammered against her ribs as a new fear bloomed in her chest, a terror far worse than the darkness of the woods.
Tears carved shimmering tracks through the dirt on her cheeks. Her hand tightened around the chicken, the grease slick against her trembling skin. "Brother… please," she stammered, the words forced through a constricted throat. "Please tell me."
Before Aris could construct a logical, comforting response, his body betrayed him and moved on its own. He pulled her into a tight, crushing embrace. It was only when he felt her small shoulders shaking against his chest that he realized his arms had reached out to shelter her.
"Hush now. No more tears." He stroked the back of her head, his fingers threading gently through her tangled, matted hair. "We have to be silent. If they find you… well, let's not think of that. Just know that Sister Eris is in a better place now."
He hated the lie, but it was the only mercy he had left to give.
Her muffled sobs echoed through the room, a lonely sound against the indifferent silence of the village. Aris let her cry, feeling the warmth of her trembling body pressed against his chest until the violent racking softened into shallow hiccups, then finally into long, shuddering breaths.
The candles had burned low by the time her tears stopped, the orange light flickering as wax pooled at the base. He pulled back, his hand lingering for a moment on her head. When she looked up, her eyes were red-rimmed but dry, and there was an unexpected stillness in her gaze—drained, yet steady.
He had seen survival harden men before. But seeing it take root in real time, in her, was different.
She's stronger than I expected, he thought. Far stronger than I was at her age.
He leaned back, putting a small but necessary distance between them. "Keep eating," he commanded, his voice regaining its pragmatic edge. "Finish the meat. We need the nutrients for what's coming. Our bodies are the only weapons we have right now."
Lilly nodded and resumed her meal with a mechanical, melancholy efficiency. Aris shifted his focus to the bamboo container by the bedside. He leaned down, grabbed it, and pried at the stubborn blackened wax until it gave way with a wet pop.
The stench hit him instantly—a cloying, metallic rot that his human senses couldn't reconcile. He recoiled, his stomach churning as he fought the urge to gag.
Before him, Lilly froze. Her head snapped from side to side, pupils blown wide as she scanned the dim corners of the room, as though the scent alone could summon monsters through the walls.
"Calm down." Aris kept his voice low, seeing her reaction. "It's just blood, Lilly. They aren't here. You're safe." But the trembling and darting of her eyes didn't stop until he gripped her hand, his rough fingers anchoring her until the shaking subsided. Her gaze drifted to the bamboo container. "Brother," she whispered, "why... why do you have the monsters' blood?"
"I took it from the village chief." He released her hand. "Don't worry about the how. I have a plan for it." He glanced at the wooden tray between them, nearly empty now. "Just keep eating. Trust me."
She didn't look convinced, but the habit of obedience was stronger than her curiosity. As she reluctantly returned to her meal, Aris turned his attention back to the bamboo.
The stench rolled off the dark liquid in thick waves again. What kind of body produces something this foul?
He closed his eyes and focused inward on the biochip. Prime, analyze the blood. Cross-reference with my own markers. Run projections on poison effectiveness and categorize the results into a folder.
[Task initialized... Scanning biological samples... Estimated time: 04:09:20.]
Four hours? Aris felt spike of frustration, his gaze drifting toward the faint grey light bleeding through the gaps in the shuttered window. The Chief would be moving by dawn. He couldn't afford to be idle.
"Prime," he said internally, "shorten the processing time."
[Computational overhead is high. Partial analysis available. Estimated time: 03:00:00.]
Three hours for a half-finished job. He chewed a strip of meat, his jaw tightening. A fifty-percent analysis would leave variables he couldn't control. In his current situation, a single unknown variable was a death sentence.
He exhaled slowly, forcing his heart rate to remain steady. He would wait. If he was going to dismantle the masters, he wouldn't do it with a sloppy, half-baked concoction. He would do it with as much precision as he could.
Moments later, the trays were clean, leaving only the smell of grease in the air. Aris rose to wash his hands, then brought a cup of water for Lilly to do the same. Once finished, he turned to the wooden chest tucked into the corner.
His fingers hovered over the rough-hewn lid—the last of his wife's belongings—before he forced it open. With detached efficiency, he sifted through the box, pulled out her simple tunics and a heavy shawl. Returning to Lilly, he draped the garments around her until the oversized fabric swallowed her small frame further.
He repeated the process for himself, layering the remaining clothes into a heavy, makeshift cloak. Finally, he scavenged the utensils until his fingers closed around two knives. They were nicked, rusted, and dull, but they were better than nothing.
He stood before Lilly, his face a mask of iron resolve. "Forgive me for what I'm about to do."
Before she could press him for an answer, he gripped her hand. With the bamboo container secured at his hip and the rusted knives tucked into his makeshift belt, he led her to the door. They stepped out into the biting pre-dawn air. In the distance, the first rooster crowed, a sound that tore through the silence and signaled the awakening of the village.
"Let's go," he whispered. They moved along the perimeter, clinging to the deep shadows cast by the three-meter village wall. When they reached the designated point, Aris climbed first, and after reaching the top, he lowered the rope.
Lilly caught it, looping it tight around her waist. He heaved, his muscles burning and his shoulders screaming in protest, until she finally scrambled over the edge to sit before him at the top between the sharp logs.
Moments later, they stood on the outside, the village behind them and the unknown ahead. At the base of the wall, Aris swept his gaze across the vast gray expanse between the forest and the village, the world suspended in that pale darkness just before dawn.
He turned to Lilly. "Which direction did you come from?" he whispered.
Her face wavered with hesitation, then her small, trembling hand rose and pointed east.
"Good. Then that's where we go." Aris was already pivoting toward the forest when Lilly's hand shot out, her fingers twisting into the coarse fabric of his hem making him stop.
"No," she said, her voice breaking. "Brother, the… the monsters are there. We can't go back."
Aris stopped and looked down at her, his expression a cold mix of calculation and a flicker of something gentler. He stroked her hair, a brief, imperfect comfort. "Don't worry, Lilly. Think of it like this: when you and the others used to play hide and seek, did you ever search the same place twice?"
Lilly shook her head.
"Good. It's the same here. In a world of hunters, the most dangerous place is often the safest. They've already searched that area. They won't expect us to return."
She answered with a small nod. He allowed himself a faint smile, then led her toward the forest, their silhouettes swallowed by the pale, fading darkness.
••••
Two hours later, as the first golden sunlight cut across the world, the village chief slipped past the gates. He moved alone toward the forest, his face unreadable, his mind sunk deep in thought. His steps were unhurried like the pace of a man who had made this walk many times across years of compromise.
Within minutes, the forest swallowed him. He navigated a path etched into memory, avoiding brambles with the ease of one who belonged to the trees.
He walked until a large shape detached itself from the gloom behind a massive trunk. The chief stopped. He bowed his head with the weary acknowledgment of a man who knew his place in the food chain.
"I have a report." His voice dropped into the guttural, grinding sounds of Orcish. The orc merely grunted at the familiar old man and led him deeper, toward the settlement.