The slippery ground made the passage difficult for the horse; the rain had turned everything into a muddy mess.
The boy was already awake. Safira and Brighid, with their sweetness and warmth, made him feel comfortable inside, while Colin remained outside, driving, attentive to the surroundings.
Noticing the horse's struggle, Colin dismounted from the carriage.
"Brighid! Safira!" he called, and they emerged from the coach. "We need to proceed on foot. The horse won't be able to pull the carriage and Bakurak's head at the same time." He pointed to Yamillya. "You, show us the way. Brighid, you stay and watch the boy and the head."
"Are you going alone?" Brighid asked, worried. "Colin, you barely handled one of them. What if there are dozens?"
He smiled and nodded towards Safira with his chin. "I have her with me, don't worry."
"But—"
"Fae, it'll be alright, I promise. Now grab your things, both of you. We'll leave soon."
They nodded.
Brighid felt a mix of admiration and frustration towards Colin.
She wondered if all men were so stubborn, but concluded it was just his peculiarity. His courage bordered on madness.
People usually sought calm and peace, but Colin always seemed to want to head straight into the eye of the storm. First, he offered to face a being from the abyss, a terrible creature that plagued the lands. Then, he wanted to go directly to the kingdom of the men who had tortured him, a place known for conflict and betrayal.
And now, he wanted to throw himself into imminent danger again, with no idea what awaited them.
Her heart ached with all of Colin's impulsive decisions. She knew he wasn't as strong as her, and clearly weaker than Safira.
He could get seriously injured, or worse, die.
Why does he have to be like this? she wondered. Why couldn't he be more cautious, more prudent, more sensible?
Part of her couldn't understand herself, but she decided to trust him; after all, Colin hadn't failed so far.
The siblings hugged tightly, an embrace heavy with emotion.
"I'll come back, I promise."
They hugged again.
"Colin!" Brighid called out, still apprehensive. "Be careful, all three of you."
Colin winked at her, pulling his hood down until it shadowed his eyes. "Will do."
The three moved away slowly, disappearing into the woods. The boy clutched the hem of his shirt, fighting back tears.
"Hey!" Brighid flew to the boy, landing beside him. "Don't worry, your sister will be fine. Those two are very strong."
He nodded, and Brighid smiled.
"Why don't we go inside? This mist could give you a cold."
He nodded again and entered the coach. Brighid's smile faded as she looked in the direction the others had gone, before entering as well.
◊❱───────⸂◍⸃───────❰◊
The three climbed a steep hill, avoiding the roads as much as possible to avoid unwanted encounters. Colin led the way through the dense forest, his boots firm on the fallen leaves, clearing a path for Safira and Yamillya. He let the two girls talk, keeping an eye on the trail while listening to their conversation.
Yamillya, thoughtful, began to recount how she, her father, and her younger brother lived in their quiet village, sustaining themselves mainly through farming.
"We grew our own vegetables," she said, "and what was left over, we traded with neighboring villages. My father always said there was great satisfaction in seeing the seeds we planted grow and turn into food."
Safira looked at Yamillya sympathetically. "It must have been a peaceful life," she commented. "Before I met Mister Colin, I also lived in a village."
Yamillya raised her eyebrows, excited. "Really? What was it like?"
"Well… my mother was a seamstress. She made beautiful dresses for the whole village, and we also sold them to neighboring villages." A nostalgic smile appeared on her face. "They always praised her, and I wanted to be a seamstress like her…"
From Safira's tone, Yamillya understood what had happened to her mother and decided not to broach a potentially sensitive subject. Seeing the happiness on the other girl's face as she spoke of her mother reminded Yamillya of her own aunt.
"My aunt was the kindest person I ever knew," Yamillya said. "She always taught us the importance of compassion and generosity. She used to say that no matter how little you have, you can always share with others… When Dad traveled, she was the one who took care of us…"
Safira smiled. "That's wonderful teaching. It sounds like you had a close-knit community."
Colin continued to lead the way, but his ears remained attentive to the girls' conversation, finding some comfort in the tranquil atmosphere that had formed between them.
◊❱───────⸂◍⸃───────❰◊
The sun was beginning to set in the invaded village.
The commander, shirtless, stood at the door of a house, preparing to drink a cup of coffee. As soon as he brought the cup to his lips, he spat out the liquid and looked back towards the girl he had dragged inside. Her left eye was bruised, part of her lip was swollen, and she trembled uncontrollably, barely able to stand.
He walked towards her. Frightened, the girl stared at the floor and began to cry softly.
"Sorry, sorry… I-I'll make another one, please, I'm sorry…" Tears of terror streamed down her cheeks.
"Hey, my love, I'm not going to hurt you," he said, stroking the girl's face. "But if my coffee is bad again, I'll be forced to punish you, understand?"
She nodded desperately. "Y-yes, sir!"
"Good!" Cupping her chin, he lifted her face and kissed her bloodied lips. "The stronger the coffee, the better. Got it, love?"
She nodded. "Y-yes!"
The commander grabbed a shirt and opened the door, surveying the village and his men scattered everywhere. Some were playing cards, others drank while forcing women onto their laps, and one group amused themselves using men tied to trees as target practice.
"Commander!" one of the soldiers called out. "Cubhishy hasn't returned yet."
Sighing, the commander stroked his thick mustache. "Tsk… Go get him, that piece of shit. Always prioritizing himself over the team. Tell him he owes me a few coins for me to overlook this."
The soldier nodded. "Yes, sir." And walked away.
Arms crossed, the commander walked through the village towards the cages where the men were imprisoned.
"Hey!" he called to one of the chained men. "Have you thought about my proposal?"
Yamillya's father lifted his head. He was visibly beaten.
"..."
"Not going to say anything? Prefer this silent treatment?" The commander gripped the bars. "I heard you have children… a girl and a boy. Well, I can certainly find a place for them on our team. My boys need to… relieve themselves now and then. I think your daughter could be useful."
The man gritted his teeth and lunged at the bars, but the chains held him back. "If you lay a finger on them, I swear I'll kill you! Do you hear me? I'll kill you!"
The commander smirked. "That's the kind of man I want working with me. Heh heh. We'll talk later, ex-soldier."
◊❱───────⸂◍⸃───────❰◊
The sun had just set, but darkness wasn't complete yet. Through the woods, the soldier followed his friend's trail, worried. The footprints on the dry leaves were clear.
"He must have passed through here…" he mumbled, standing up. "Damn it… how far did you go?" Just then, he stopped, finding himself face to face with a man in a dark cloak staring at him. Immediately, he reached for the dagger at his waist. "Who are you? Identify yourself!"
Colin threw back his hood, revealing his face.
A Dark Elf? What's he doing so far from home? the soldier thought.
"I don't know how you ended up here, but you'd better turn back. You're trespassing on Ultan territory. If you don't leave, I'll be forced to take action!"
Colin remained still and silent, making the soldier nervous. "Tch! Didn't you hear what I said?"
"I heard," Colin replied, showing his sword. "I came here to deal with you and your friends."
The soldier began to concentrate mana throughout his body. "As if I'd—"
Crash!
Something hot struck him in the back and exited through his stomach, destroying his insides. The soldier fell to his knees and collapsed onto the damp leaves.
Safira, standing behind him, lowered her hands, staring at the corpse.
"You're controlling your mana well, aren't you?" Colin said, sheathing his sword. "Yamillya, we'll advance a bit further. You hide, understand?"
She nodded.
"Alright, let's go."
◊❱───────⸂◍⸃───────❰◊
As Colin, Safira, and Yamillya approached the village, a terrifying scene began to unfold.
Hidden behind the trees, they observed the place that had once been full of life, now reduced to ruins. The wooden houses were burned or heavily damaged, and the crops, destroyed, formed a sea of ashes.
With tears in her eyes, Yamillya murmured, "I've never seen the village like this… By the Gods… what happened here?"
Colin looked around grimly, his expression serious. Safira was also shocked by the scene. What had once been a warm and welcoming home now looked like a nightmare.
Near what was once the central square, a group of invading soldiers played cards carelessly, laughing as they slammed cards onto the table.
In a dark corner, village prisoners in tattered clothes and with empty gazes awaited their uncertain fate. Colin could feel the pain and fear in their eyes; some were injured and exhausted, clearly victims of abuse. On the other side, a band of soldiers intimidated the remaining women. They trembled with fear, some bearing visible marks of abuse.
Indignation grew in Safira's chest. Colin, on the other hand, seemed indifferent to the situation.
"Girl," he said to Yamillya. "Stay hidden here. We're going to take care of all of them."
She nodded, her eyes welling up.
"Safira, wait for my signal. I'll free the prisoners, then you conjure the fireball. We need to stay hidden and wait for the night to get darker."
She nodded. "Yes, sir!"
Colin pulled his hood down, covering his eyes. Instead of the star sword, he opted for his dagger.
"Sir, what will be the signal?" she inquired.
"You'll know."
He disappeared into the bushes.