CHAPTER 7 — THE VANISHING TRAIL
The night felt wrong.
Riven sat beside the creature, ribs still aching beneath the bandages. The cabin was silent—too silent. Even the wind outside held its breath.
The shadow creature's ears stayed upright, twitching toward the window.
Riven exhaled slowly.
"They're close… aren't they?"
The creature didn't move.
It didn't need to.
Riven felt it too—
A faint pressure in the air.
Like ripples spreading in a pond after a stone is thrown.
Trackers.
Stronger than the assassin.
More experienced.
More dangerous.
Riven pushed himself to his feet, hissing as pain shot across his side.
He wasn't healed.
Not even close.
But staying would be worse.
His gaze drifted to the sleeping village beyond the window.
Tiny homes, warm lights, people who had nothing to do with him.
People who would die if the assassins came searching here.
Riven clenched his jaw.
"…I can't let them get dragged into this."
The creature looked at him—questioning, but ready.
Riven grabbed his satchel, the half-used herbs, the remaining bandage rolls. He tied a worn cloak over his clothes.
He stepped outside.
Cold night air hit him instantly.
Stars shimmered overhead, unaware of the hunt beginning below.
The creature moved beside him silently.
Riven glanced at it.
"You don't have to come. You're hurt too."
The creature only shook its head and pressed its side gently against Riven's leg.
Riven sighed.
"Alright. Together, then."
---
THE GOODBYE
He stepped outside quietly, the creature following like a shadow.
The night sky spread above him—vast, calm, uncaring.
The village lay silent behind him, lanterns fading as families drifted into peaceful dreams.
Riven stood there for a long time.
Breathing.
Remembering.
He saw old man Beret laughing with him while fishing near the stream.
Saw Mira scolding him for stealing apples—then slipping him two extra when no one was watching.
Saw his mother bandaging his scraped knees when he wasn't any older than ten.
He saw himself arriving in this village years ago—
half-dead, collapsed at their border…
with no name anyone recognized.
No past he could remember.
And yet they took him in.
They fed him.
Clothed him.
Taught him.
Scolded him.
Protected him.
Loved him… even when they had no obligation to.
His throat tightened.
He ran a shaky hand over the wooden fence near his house—the same fence he had helped repair last winter. Splinters pressed into his palm.
"…I didn't even get to say goodbye," he whispered.
The shadow creature pressed its head against his leg gently.
A comforting gesture.
Riven exhaled shakily.
"I wanted to stay. I really did."
A breeze swept through the village, rustling leaves, making lantern flames flicker.
He swallowed hard.
"But if I stay… they'll die because of me."
Images of the assassin flashed in his mind.
The shockwave.
The broken body.
The hunting eyes.
Tracks of the crescent mark would lead more killers here.
He couldn't allow that.
His eyes stung—but he blinked the tears away.
"I owe them more than my life. So leaving… is the only thing I can do for them."
The creature licked his hand, a rare show of its own understanding.
Riven laughed softly—sadly.
"Come on. If we take the east trail, we can stay off the main roads."
He took one last look at the village.
One last breath of familiar air.
"Thank you," he whispered to the silent homes.
Then he turned away—
and didn't look back again.
---
THE QUIET ESCAPE
The village was peaceful—dogs sleeping, fires dimming, last lanterns flickering.
Riven took the back route, avoiding the main path. His footsteps were unsteady, but the creature's presence kept him upright.
He didn't look back.
Not once.
If he did, he might have turned around.
They disappeared into the forest shadows, swallowed by the night.
---
DAWN – THE TRACKERS ARRIVE
Just as the first rays of sunlight touched the treetops, a group of five figures stepped into the village.
No footsteps.
No sound.
Only the cold rustle of cloaks brushing dirt.
At their front walked the raven-cloaked woman—the same who had inspected the assassin's body.
Her name was whispered with fear even among her own people:
Isha, the Seeker of Shadows.
She lifted her hand.
Her men halted instantly.
Isha crouched, touching the soil.
A faint crescent pulse shimmered under her palm.
"He was here," she whispered.
One of the trackers scanned the ground.
"He didn't stay long. The trail is faint."
"Faint," she repeated softly, "but not gone."
She stood, eyes narrowing toward the forest.
"He left before dawn. Injured, but moving."
The trackers nodded.
"Shall we search the village, Commander?"
She turned her head slightly.
"No need. He would never endanger them."
Her tone carried… respect?
Or curiosity?
It was hard to tell.
"Spread out," she commanded.
"If the boy survives long enough for the mark to mature… the Dark Gods will tear this land apart searching for him."
The trackers shivered.
None of them wished to face that.
---
DEEP IN THE FOREST
Riven leaned against a tree, breath heavy. Sweat rolled down his neck despite the cool morning air.
His ribs throbbed with every inhale.
His legs felt like stone.
The creature nudged him gently, urging him to rest.
"Just… a little more," Riven whispered.
"We need more distance."
He forced himself forward.
One step.
Another.
And another.
Finally, when his vision blurred, he stumbled into a small clearing and collapsed against a moss-covered rock.
The creature curled protectively around him.
Riven whispered:
"They'll reach the village soon… but they won't find us."
His cloak hid the bleeding.
His footsteps overlapped with animal prints.
He walked upstream for half a mile.
Small tricks.
Slowing tricks.
But not enough.
The crescent mark still pulsed softly.
Still detectable.
Riven's fingers clenched around his shirt.
"If I can't hide this… they'll track me forever."
He didn't know how.
But he had to find a way.
The creature nuzzled his wrist.
Riven closed his eyes, exhausted.
"Don't worry… I won't give up."
Even injured, Riven refused to stop.
The creature supported him at every step—sometimes nudging him, sometimes walking ahead to scout, sometimes lowering itself for him to lean on.
Hours passed.
The darkness lifted into morning light.
The pain didn't.
By the time they reached the foothills, exhaustion nearly consumed him.
But ahead…
through the rising mist…
he saw the rooftops of a small town.
---
THE SMALL TOWN — A TEMPORARY HALT
It wasn't big.
Just a quiet place with brick houses, wandering merchants, and a dozen sleepy guards at the gate.
Perfect for hiding.
Riven wrapped himself in an old cloak torn from a scarecrow on the way and lowered his head.
The guards barely spared him a glance.
He entered.
The creature stayed low, its shadowy form dim enough that people assumed it was just a large dog hidden under his cloak.
He found a small, cheap inn at the town's edge.
A tired old woman at the counter eyed him suspiciously.
"You look half dead, boy."
"Traveling accident," Riven muttered, lowering his voice. "Need a room. One night."
"And the beast?"
"My companion."
She squinted, then shrugged.
"Don't cause trouble. Room five."
Riven placed two copper coins on the table.
Stolen from the assassin's pouch.
He didn't feel guilty.
---
INSIDE THE ROOM
The room was small.
Dusty.
Cold.
But safe.
Riven collapsed on the floor, gasping as pain surged through his body.
The creature whined softly and pressed close.
"Don't worry… I'll be fine," Riven whispered.
He gently re-wrapped his ribs, drank water, and used the last of his mother's herbs on the creature's wound.
Hours passed as he drifted in and out of sleep.
___
SOMETHING WRONG
By late evening, the air shifted again.
A faint pulse.
Like someone brushing the mark on his chest from far away.
The crescent reacted.
The creature's ears shot up instantly.
Riven stiffened.
"…They found my trail again?"
He gritted his teeth.
That meant one thing—
The trackers were closing in.
They could sense the crescent's faint residue wherever he stayed for too long.
He looked around the room.
This wasn't home.
But someone else's home.
And if the trackers searched the town…
innocent people would suffer again.
Riven stood.
The creature rose instantly.
"We're leaving," Riven whispered.
The creature nodded.
---
THE DEPARTURE
He slipped out under the cover of dusk, leaving behind the bed he barely rested on.
Leaving behind the temporary safety.
Leaving behind any hope of staying in one place.
This road…
was his life now.
Running.
Hiding.
Surviving.
But he wasn't alone.
The creature walked beside him silently, its faint glow pulsing in sync with his heartbeat.
As they moved deeper into the wilderness, Riven whispered:
"One day… I'll figure out how to hide this mark."
The creature nudged his hand gently.
"And when that day comes… I won't be hunted anymore."
But for now—
He simply walked.
---
Chapter 7 — END