Chapter 8 : March Ahead!

Before I could open my eyes, a sharp pain throbbed ceaselessly on my right leg. Distraught, loud whimpers spilled from my lips as I tried to reach my calf with my hand, eyes squinted and blinked rapidly to chase away the remains of sleep.

Right. There's an arrow penetrated my calf. When I traced the sore place, I felt soft bandages covered it. Darcio must've tended my wounds. How long was I out? I felt like I slept for a long time.

I looked around my surroundings as the sleep in me slowly seeping away, conscious enough to comprehend everything going on. The first thing I noticed even before I woke up was the soothing crackling noise. It came from a small bonfire placed a few meters away from me, close enough to warm me in this dark, humid place.

There were four others of what appeared to be travel beds, neatly placed in order right beside me—ragged, all-patched-up, worn-out medieval travel bags that I often saw in movies. Heavy-looking leather bags and small pouches tied with strings set on the corner of the damp cave.

Hushed droplets from above echoed, and when the next droplet hit my nose, I sneezed. As I sneezed, I gasped when I saw the night sky behind me. There was a big entrance, the forest scenery displayed in front of me. Rows of green trees rooted deep into the ground stretched out in my view. Crickets buzzing in the distance, the whistle of the wind brushed against the grove gently.

Why am I in a cave? No, this was smaller than a cave. And where is everybody?

"Darcy?" I called out shakily, and his nickname slipped because of the foreign environment, and the constant pain stressed me out so much. "Tyr? Yeomfra?"

I shifted, trying to get up, but I sat back down when the pain throbbed, ordered me to stay still or it'll hurt more. "Morfeo?"

Finally, I could hear some rustling from outside. It was Darcio, with a copious amount of twigs pinched in between his hips and forearm, sighing in relief when he saw me.

"Thank the goddess. You're awake,"

"Darcy," I whined. "It hurts,"

"I know, I know," Darcio spoke soothingly, his tone turned softer as he approached me. He set the twigs beside the bonfire then took a seat beside me. He checked my leg without touching me, knowing that it'd hurt if he did.

"You'll feel better in two or three days. It hurts because it's in the process of recovery," Darcio explained, ruffled my hair.

"Okay," I sighed, frowning. "Where are the others? Where are we?"

"We're in a rock shelter, far away from the cabin. You've been sleeping for three and a half days," Darcio said as if it hurt him physically. Dang, I passed out for four days? Everyone must've worried constantly.

"Oh," I whispered, looked down to my curled fists on my lap.

"We can't stay in the cabin anymore after the attack. There's a great chance that more enemies will appear and search the area," Darcio said. "We don't have any other choice but to move out,"

"!"

Move out? Just like that?

I've been living in that cabin, sometimes wishing that I could someday see different sceneries other than mud and Morfeo getting his butt beaten by Yeomfra.

All it took was for enemies to attack me? What if that day I never went to those five mages? Will I love another twelve years in that cabin?

"We're getting closer to Oftr. You'll be able to learn more advanced magic, maybe learn how to suppress your vysu,"

Right, I need to suppress my vysu to avoid future risks. I nodded my head, and Darcio ruffled my hair again.

Stop messing up my head, old man!

I glared at him, but it must've looked cute in Darcio's eyes since he just stifled his chuckle. "Stay here. Those three are outside hunting for dinner,"

"Okay,"

I watched Darcio adding more twigs into the bonfire, allowing me to be lost in my thoughts. I'll start a new life from here on out. Starting a new chapter in Oftr, wherever it was. Before I could ask what Oftr was, I heard loud shouting from behind me.

"Ha! One rabbit? You're getting weaker as you're older, Tyr," Morfeo mocked, guffawing obnoxiously.

Tyr slapped his face with the dead rabbits he was holding, clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Show some respect to your elder,"

"You're eighteen," Yeomfra muttered, carrying four fishes on each hand.

"What's your point?" Tyr arched an eyebrow. Yeomfra shut his mouth tight, looked away from Tyr's scary glare.

Morfeo then gasped dramatically, almost dropping the two ring-necked pheasants he held. "Azy!"

"Mory!" I tossed my arms up in the air, matching up his energy. This time Morfeo dropped his kill and ran toward me.

He gave me a big, tight hug.

He smelled terrible.

"Ew," I pushed him away, scrunching my nose. Morfeo let out noises of disbelief, couldn't believe my audacity.

"Azriel," Tyr sighed aloud, tapping his heart. "Oh, I'm going to pass out,"

"Stop being dramatic," Yeomfra scolded, though he couldn't stop his smile when he saw me.

"You three, stop being dramatic and cook," Darcio stopped the short wholesome reunion. I giggled when Tyr, Yeomfra, and Morfeo grumbled silently.