Yuto and her team rode day and night.
They pushed the horses hard, harder than they should have, until the animals' breaths came in ragged gasps and their strides grew heavy. They used the shortest route possible, a path that cut through the belly of the wilderness where dangerous wild animals and beasts prowled in the shadows.
Regardless of the dangers, mother nature seemed to be on their side. They encountered little to no trouble at all. No wolves. No bears. No bandits. It was as if something was clearing the path for them, something that watched from the trees and decided they were not worth eating.
Not yet.
They stopped at Mount Grimvale as they had decided to rest during nighttime.
Mount Grimvale was known to be quite dangerous. Magical beasts appeared at random, drawn by something no scholar could explain. Most people who went hunting in that mountain would go missing. Their bodies were never found. Their screams were never heard. As a result, the forest grew dense, wild, hungry. No one dared to even chop wood. People from nearby villages swore that they had heard groans from creatures they could hardly identify, sounds that did not belong to any animal they knew.
The night was eerie.
Only the sounds of creaking crickets and the whisper of leaves rattled by the wind. No birds. No footsteps. No breathing except their own.
Yuto stepped down from her horse. Her men followed suit. The leather of her boots sank into the soft earth, mud clinging to the soles.
She could feel her heart beating very fast. Her breath was a little uneven.
Why did I agree to such madness?
She looked around the forest. The tall, towering trees covered the view of the sky. She could not see the stars. Could not see the moon. Could not see anything beyond the pressing darkness and the twisted branches that reached for her like fingers.
She looked down and noticed that her shoes were covered in mud.
Damn it.
"It's just a little mud, prince." Rhett's voice cut through the silence, sharp and mocking. He was smirking at her, his arms crossed over his chest. "Won't kill you. Not used to the harsh conditions beyond the palace?"
Yuto's eyes narrowed.
"Look at you. Getting a little cocky just because I lost a single fight to you." She snickered as she guided her horse toward a certain tree, away from him. "Pathetic."
The other two soldiers nearest to them, Adrian and Marcus, just shook their heads in a disapproving way toward Rhett.
Rhett was one proud soldier. Raised as a minister's son, he had privileges. Servants. Fine clothes. A future carved in gold. All of it ended when his father forced him to join the army due to political intrigue, a sacrifice to prove loyalty to the crown. He walked with overconfidence, his chin tilted a little too high, commanding respect he had not earned. His smirk suggested that he already believed himself to be better than everyone around him. When he spoke, his voice had a lazy swagger that made no one challenge him. His physique was superb. Tall. Lean. Muscular in a way that spoke of training, yes, but also of good food and soft beds.
Ronan and Marcus were identical twin brothers. They were mirror images of each other. Both had sharp jawlines and a piercing gaze that made it difficult to tell them apart at first glance. Their movements always seemed to be in sync, as if they shared the same blood, the same thoughts, the same soul.
The only difference was their eyes. One was quiet and calculating, always watching. The other was outgoing, always ready for daring mischief, always smiling at danger like an old friend.
The commander had started making a fire when Ronan approached him quietly.
"Commander," Ronan said, his voice low, "from what I heard, we should keep moving. Rest at least a little distance from Mount Grimvale."
His expression was serious. His eyes looked devoid of any emotion, flat and dark as the forest around them. He glanced at Yuto for what appeared to be a second, then looked back at the commander whose focus was still on making the fire bigger.
The commander did not speak for what seemed like an eternity.
"There are just myths," he said finally. "There is no need to worry. The mountain is quite large. Continuing can injure our horses and delay our travel." He struck the flint again. Sparks flew. "We leave at first light in the morning."
Ronan nodded. He sat down nearest to the fire as the temperature seemed to drop significantly.
Soon Marcus and Rhett joined as well.
But Yuto was nowhere to be seen.
"Where is the prince?" the commander demanded.
"He went to take a leak," Rhett muffled as he chewed the bread he had stuffed in his mouth.
The commander narrowed his eyes slightly. Said nothing.
"He will be here soon," Rhett added, swallowing. "He just left. No need to worry."
---
After Yuto told Rhett about nature's call, she travelled a little far deep into the forest.
She just had to make sure she was alone. Completely alone. No eyes. No ears. No questions.
She grabbed her pants to attend to nature's call.
The temperature dropped.
Significantly.
Her breath misted in the air. The fire from the camp was gone, swallowed by the trees. She could not see the flames. Could not hear her men's voices.
She quickly grabbed her sword and scanned the environment very fast.
Nothing.
Nothing but trees. Shadows. Silence.
She could feel a chill run down her spine, cold and sharp, like a finger tracing her vertebrae.
Then she heard it.
A baby crying.
Her head snapped toward the sound.
A boy stood between the trees.
He looked about ten years old. Maybe younger. It was hard to tell. His face was pale, too pale, like he had never seen the sun. His eyes were dark, sunken, suffering from immense pain that seemed to leak from his very soul. He wore dark clothes that blended with the shadows, making him look like a cutout, a hole in the world.
In his arms, he held a baby.
The baby was wrapped in cloth, its face hidden, its cries muffled against the boy's chest.
The boy peeped at Yuto for only a short time. He bounced the baby gently, trying to stop it from crying. His movements were mechanical, practiced, as if he had done this a thousand times.
Slowly, Yuto started to back away.
She was sure that was no human child.
The aura radiating from the boy was powerful. Too powerful. It pressed against her skin like a physical weight, like standing too close to a waterfall, the pressure building behind her eyes.
The boy looked up suddenly.
Mischief danced in his dark eyes.
"Do you like running?" he asked.
His voice sounded like a boy's. Young. Innocent. But beneath it, something else lurked. Something ancient. Something hungry.
He was calm. Collected. His voice carried a hint of sarcasm, as if he already knew the answer to his question.
Yuto laughed nervously.
"Yeah. Yes, actually." Her voice came out higher than she intended. "I run pretty fast."
She turned to run.
The next moment, the boy was in front of her.
He had not moved. He had simply been there, as if the space between them had never existed.
"Not fast enough, unfortunately."
He put on a devilish smile. His teeth were too sharp, his canines long and pointed, catching the faint light like needles.
Yuto raised her sword.
Her hands went numb.
The blade slipped from her fingers and clattered to the ground. She could not feel her arms. Could not feel her legs. Her body was betraying her, shutting down, refusing to obey.
Is this where I die?
Tears filled her eyes as she dropped to her knees. The mud soaked through her trousers, cold and wet.
The little boy started circling around her. Slow. Deliberate. His bare feet made no sound on the forest floor.
The baby stopped crying.
The silence was worse.
He stopped in front of her. Reached out. His fingers grabbed her chin, cold as ice, and tilted her face toward his.
His eyes glowed.
Just for a moment. A flash of gold deep within the dark.
Then he backed away slowly.
"You are his," he said softly. "You can't die... yet."
He turned and walked back deep within the forest. The shadows swallowed him. The baby did not cry. The trees did not move.
He was simply gone.
The temperature returned to normal.
Yuto could feel her arms and legs again. Sensation rushed back in a wave of pins and needles, painful and sharp. She scrambled to her feet, grabbed her sword, and ran.
She did not look back.
She burst into the camp breathless, sweat beading down her face, her hands still shaking.
"I don't care what the plan was," she gasped, grabbing her horse. "We... we are leaving. Right now."
"What happened?" the commander demanded.
He stepped toward her, his eyes scanning her body for wounds, for blood, for anything that would explain her terror.
Then an emotion flickered through his eyes. So fast. But Yuto noticed it.
Dismissal.
"The myths got to you," he said, his voice flat. "As far as I am concerned, you are unharmed."
Rage boiled within her.
So intense. So sudden. It rose from her chest, up her throat, burning behind her eyes.
All she could spit out was, "GO TO HELL!"
She swung herself onto Ash. The horse reared, sensing her fury, her fear, her desperation.
"Yuto—" the commander started.
"I said go to hell!" Her voice cracked. "You were not there. You did not see it. You did not feel it. So you do not get to tell me that it was nothing."
She kicked Ash's sides.
The horse bolted.
But the commander was faster. He grabbed the reins before Ash could take more than a few strides.
"Let go!" Yuto shouted.
"No."
She glared at him, her chest heaving, her hands shaking.
"You are not thinking clearly," the commander said, his voice low. "You are afraid. Fear makes fools of everyone."
Yuto wanted to argue. But her leg was throbbing. Her shoulder was burning. And somewhere in the darkness, she felt eyes watching.
She slid off the horse and sat by the fire.
The commander sat across from her. The others exchanged glances but said nothing.
Then the commander looked up. His face changed.
"What happened?" he asked.