Village

The pair of warriors faced each other, malice gleaming in their eyes. Darius pondered, his gaze unwavering.

'Hmm… Strange to see them here, especially so far out. Let's see their strength…' A sinister grin spread across his lips as a bolt of lightning erupted from his palm.

The frontman dodged to the side, while the other conjured a wall of earth to block it. "Don't kill them," Darius whispered to Lourdes, who was already sprinting forward, almost out of earshot.

Lourdes zig-zagged, keeping his true target unclear. He glanced right, locking eyes with one of the men. A fiery arrow shot toward him, but Lourdes ducked under it, leaping off one foot toward the other man.

He brought his foot down with lethal force, the air whistling as it neared. The man barely managed to raise his arms, but the kick still sent him sprawling backward. Before he made contact with the ground, the power behind his kick caused him to be hurled nearly ten meters away.

His body skidded across the rocks, flipping and banging. Rocks flew in different directions, his body rolling like a wrecking ball. Finally, he stood, scratched and bleeding.

Darius appeared behind the other man, deliberately making noise.

Before the man could turn, Darius transformed into a hazy mist, flowing toward him. The man threw a desperate punch, but his fist went through the fog, dispersing around his fist.

Darius rematerialized, his fist sinking into the man's liver. He dropped to his knees and finished off with an upward kick to the chin. The man's body collapsed with a thud. Darius glanced at Lourdes, who sidestepped a purple tentacle sprouting from the water and delivered a powerful right hook to the man's face.

Blood sprayed from the man's mouth as his head snapped to the side. He fell face-first into the rocks he was just skidding on. He lay still for a moment before coughing and groaning.

Lourdes knelt down, cleansing his fist in the flowing water. "Why shouldn't we have killed them?" He shook off the water and rested his hand at his side.

Darius looked at the man he had defeated. "They're allies of the village. I knew them well. Since they didn't recognize me, they must be new members."

The man struggled to speak, pain radiating from his side. Darius gazed down, "We just wanted to test your strength. Sorry…" He said with a sheepish smile.

The apology did little to ease the tension. After Darius's identity was confirmed, the two men seemed uncomfortable. Darius understood why. The news of what had happened all that time ago spread quickly, and he wasn't surprised they had heard about it.

"Follow us. We can take you to our village. With the feast, many Cassius Tribe members are present, including the head and elders."

Darius stiffened, his eyes narrowing. 'I don't think I'm ready to see them…' He considered, but eventually shrugged it off. It had been seven years since he last saw his wife Layla's family.

He dreaded it. Did they blame him? No. They had insisted it wasn't his fault, but he couldn't shake the feeling that they resented him. He blamed himself. A mere illusion had bested him.

True warriors didn't blame their losses on such trivialities. If they lost without weapons, they should have trained their hand-to-hand combat. Normal warriors would've blamed the circumstances. If they lost due to terrain, they should have studied it. True warriors blamed their own incompetence. Weak ones justified their loss with weak reasoning. He was weak, and he lost because so.

Despite everyone saying he wasn't at fault, Darius couldn't believe it. He should have been stronger. A mere illusion shouldn't have beaten him.

Lourdes gazed at the distant hills and mountains, the orange sun casting a stunning light. His eyes were relaxed, his mind slow.

"The sunsets remind me of Thorla."

Darius side-eyed his friend, opening his mouth, "You haven't told me much about Thorla."

Lourdes thought for a second before meeting his eyes, "I'll tell you when we're alone." Darius nodded, and the group fell silent.

—

Eventually, they emerged from the trees, a few dozen buildings coming into view. The village was simple, with small houses and shops. Beside it was a wide lake, its gushing water soothing, with occasional fish jumping out and splashing back in.

One of the men, Horan, looked back. "This is our village. Please don't be a…" He paused, meeting Lourdes's gaze, "a nuisance."

Lourdes huffed and looked away, and the man returned his gaze to the village.

Two men emerged from a building, spears in hand. This was standard procedure, not hostility. "Jolar! I return with two humans."

Darius's ears perked up, and he looked at the man named Jolar. Their eyes met, a mix of unknown emotions swirling.

Jolar's eyes hardened, his grip tightening on his spear. "Welcome back, Darius." He muttered without emotion.

"You look the same as almost a decade ago. Thank you." The compliment was meant to lighten the mood, but it remained dull between them. Jolar wore a fake smile while Darius barely smiled.

The other two men walked off into the village, leaving the three together. "Who is your friend?"

Lourdes snapped out of his trance, peering at the sunset. Jolar was around thirty, with short chestnut hair and lifeless emerald eyes. His oval face paired with a sharp jawline.

"I'm Lourdes, a friend of Darius's." Jolar nodded and turned back to Darius, "Get him a transformation ring. I don't want my people panicking because a fugitive is present. I expect to know why he is with you soon."

Darius nodded, "No worries, we can talk."

He handed Lourdes a ring, changing his appearance to the familiar 'Grant' persona.

They walked through the village, where children played, some transforming parts of their bodies into tentacles. Lourdes looked shocked, worry on his face.

"How can they do that…?"

"A bloodline trait. Very common outside the capital." Jolar responded calmly, and Lourdes nodded awkwardly.

Jolar led them to a quieter part of the village. He opened the door to a house, and they entered.

It was a typical living room, with couches, a table, and paintings on the walls.

They all sat down, Lourdes and Darius across from Jolar. A heavy silence filled the room, a deep loathing in Jolar's eyes. "How is everyone? Ghena and the rest."

Jolar looked at the ground. "They're fine. After Layla's death, they struggled, but they've healed now."

Darius gave a weak nod, biting his lip as memories resurfaced. "What about you?"

Jolar sighed, adjusting himself. "Hard. Losing a sibling isn't easy." He said with a piercing gaze at Darius, who stared back. "I know."

He stood, sweeping his hair back. "It's best if I leave," He turned to Lourdes, "Explain the situation from the start, don't leave anything out. I'll be back soon."

He rushed out, leaving the two alone.

Lourdes cleared his throat, "Well…"

—

Nearly an hour passed, and Lourdes finished the story of how he and Darius met, all the way to the present moment. Jolar's eyebrows were raised in pure bewilderment. "So you guys were chased by the guards of Hevia, who happened to bring along his Siblings. Killed one of them as revenge, and left the other alive?"

Lourdes nodded exaggeratedly as if he was proud of it. "Strongest warriors I've fought in my life! It was amazing, actually."

Jolar set his drink down and stood up, stretching. "Well, a very hectic journey I see."

He turned and walked to the hallway. "You can leave now, I'm tired and you should go find Darius. Go to your right, then left, and left again, and keep walking. You'll find him.

Lourdes was startled at the sudden switch; he was sure they were having a good time, but he shrugged it off. "Alright."

He exited the house, following the directions Jolar gave him. After walking a few minutes, eventually, a dark figure came into his view

Luscious black hair flowed down and swayed in the gentle night, the man unmoving. He stood above a cross that was dug into the ground, a slight hump of dirt in front of it.

Darius seemed to notice his presence and looked backward, meeting his eyes. "Is this her grave?" He solemnly asked, his voice soft.

Darius nodded, "Yes, I dug it myself."