The orphanage in the woods

Their adventure already became much harder without them even leaving the Luvious forest, Midas's hand covered in crimson red fluid—looking down onto his stained palm, the youth furrowed his brows, his mind racing with ideas of how to stop the bleeding. The spear didn't reach any vital organs to his luck, having pierced into his hip flesh from his back while he wasn't paying attention.

Midas had to get the foreign girl to speak, lifting his right hand at Javelin to let her go from his grasp—hopefully gaining her trust by taking care of the guards for her. Groaning dimly as she only parted his lips without speaking a word, Midas grew frustrated—blood running down his thigh as his left hand that rested on the wound didn't help much with stopping the blood flow. Taking off his blue hood, he eventually glances up at Javelin.

"Could you knot this around my waist...? Make sure it's tight; that might help with the bleeding."

Javelin didn't waste much time, mirroring his stance as he knelt down in front of him. Able to use both of his hands, unlike Midas—the hooded boy grasped the long robe, folding it roughly into a slimmer shape, wrapping it around Midas's waist as he bound it together with a tightly sitting knot. Seeing Javelin look up at him, the youth nodded, feeling the cloth press around his wound.

"We need to hurry... Getting out of the forest will take us a while."

Both of the guards didn't move—unable to, as one collapsed at the force in which Midas's attack hit into his stomach while the other crawled on the ground, unable to stand as his calf muscles were cut through by Midas's blade. Only briefly glancing back at their direction, the youth threw his leather back onto his shoulder—the motion making his wound sting sharply.

Stepping out of the foliage that thrived between the trees, the three of them stepped onto their path again—Javelin opened the map for Midas, glancing at a rough path they had to follow, a line that didn't tell much about how long the way towards another crossing would be.

Still able to walk somewhat straight, Midas simply ignored the stinging—his torso uncovered as he shivered slightly at the breezes that howled through the forest.

The long-haired girl stayed behind them, her posture growing unsure as she stayed behind—scanning the surrounding pines for more armored men that might linger in between them. Eventually stepping forward, she grasped Midas's left shoulder from behind—his bloody hand holding tightly onto the old wooden handle of his sickle. Already seeing another crossing in front of them, Midas turned to the slightly taller girl behind him, watching as one of her fingers pointed into the woods.

"See...? Now she wants us to save her friends as well... I've told you it was a bad idea to get ourselves involved in this. We didn't even make it out of the forest..."

Her gesture made Midas think, Javelin mentioning her friends making him notice a bronze emblem dangling off of the rope that was wrapped around her dated trousers—seemingly the same that he gave to Skye. Connecting the dots, remembering the time he crossed the same woods with Avalon, his eyes widened—sure the girl in front of him belonged to the same orphanage.

Tucking his sickle under the cloth that wrapped around his waist, Midas lifted up the circular metal—his hand grasped by the girl as she started to pull him into the woods. Reluctantly letting himself be dragged into the forest, Midas complied with Javelin.

„What if she's taking us to the orphanage that is up the river…? I'm sure there's someone capable of fixing me up."

„Well—I better hope so… Look at the sky."

Javelin's low murmur made Midas raise his head to look up at a grey sky, muting the shine of the sun. Stepping through bushes and avoiding branches that stuck out from the stems of the trees around them, they made their way through the pine growth.

The light noises of water droplets hitting the needles of the pines eventually condensed into a hailing noise of rain pouring down onto them. Soaked by the water that slipped through the crowns of the trees, Midas shivering became slightly more frequent, freezing slightly as the rain hit his bare skin.

The longhaired girl halted at the sight of an opening in the middle of the woods, having walked uphill for a while now. Midas caught his breath as he mustered a distant log cabin built into a plain opening. The elongated shack was the only building that lay on the patch of grass—in front of it, a parked carriage.

Taking a closer look, Midas's brows sharpened. Opening the door up swiftly, another set of men wearing the same armor stepped out of the cabin, bringing another struggling child with them as they stepped towards the carriage. Only able to watch, as his breathing became more thin under the pain of his wound, Midas didn't move any muscle at the sight of them leaving.

"Come on… they're gone."

Javelin urged the two of them with a dim tone, not registering the trembling lips of the long-haired girl beside them. Soaked by the rain that poured down onto them in the open field, Midas was eventually the one dragging her along, as he gripped onto her wrist instead.

Able to see a faint light shine from the milky windows of the hut, Javelin looked back onto the ride that vanished into the forest again. Waiting for Midas to catch up as he forced the shocked girl to move on. Eventually standing in front of a shut wooden door, Javelin hastily opened it.

Immediately backing off, as he stuck his head into the hut, Javelin's eyes widened at the sight of a kitchen knife pointed at his face. The old, shaky hand that held onto it sunk eventually, the expression of the elderly woman to whom the arm belonged softening at the sight of who stepped through the door beside him.

„Uteli… you're well… I'm so glad; come inside—quick…"

With a flat groan, Midas leaned against the frame of the door, eventually dragging him inside of the building as he shut the old door behind him with a stern expression. Leaning against the wooden wall, he was met with a set of confused children around his size—grouped up into a corner as they stared at them.

Holding onto his bleeding back, Midas counted five children - all of them resting on rugs as the old wooden floor of the house was covered in them. To the left of the old woman was a tiny kitchen—much smaller than Grafs, as it practically was only a fireplace on which a cauldron was chained over.

Gliding down the wall of the building, Midas set down—looking up at Javelin as he threw his drenched clothing to the side, crouching down to inspect the bleeding. Eventually letting Uteli go, the elderly woman took cautious steps towards the sternly looking youths from the desert, gasping at the sight of Midas's wound.

„I'm sorry to interrupt; we found one of your children that belonged to you… I managed to free her from being taken away by water kingdom knights—but I didn't pay enough attention."

Speaking through his flashed teeth, the stinging of his wound not settling down, Midas tried his best as he spoke the northern language. Her clothing suggested the woman in front of him came from the plant kingdom as well—wearing a short green robe that hung off her shoulder, and her body was covered by light grey garments.

„She doesn't belong to anyone… But I do owe you for saving her, even bringing her to me. Don't worry—I will close up the wound properly."

Midas watched in silence as the old lady headed out of the house, stepping into the rain as she brought back a vine around the length of his index finger with her. Seemingly having ripped it off from the growth that sat on top of the wood roof—suggesting the age of the building to be quite old.

„Why bring such a vine with you…?"

Midas asked with low intrigue, having seen the same growth spread onto the stone bases of other houses before. Quietly watching with sharpened brows as the woman plucked off the dark green leaves off of the vine, approaching him with the barren growth and a wet towel in her other hand.

Midas shoved his back to her, flinching at the cold of the damp towel—before he felt the vine being placed directly over the cut that spanned his hip. Unsure how this would go further, the youth turned to his back—his eyes widening at the sight of a green glow emitting from one of her brass rings, feeling the skin surrounding the wound being pulled together.

Uteli watched shortly, crouching down at the sight of the vine as it spread out onto Midas's skin under the influence of the green stone. The foreign object gripping onto his skin didn't feel pleasant—forcing his wound to stay pulled together as it sat on top of it, stopping the bleeding as the vine reached up to his spine, its spreading stopping eventually as the green glow stopped.

„What was that…? A stone that is fed by mana…?"

„Yes, but don't overdo it right away… The wound might open up again if you move too suddenly."

Glancing up at Javelin as he mustered the green stone slotted in her ring, Midas stood up slowly to face her again—eventually bowing only slightly, not trying to risk the wound opening.

„Thank you… May I ask you why exactly so many knights roam these woods to come to you…?"

The elderly woman sat herself on an old wooden chair, looking at the group of children seated on different colored rugs—wildly spread out on the floor, overlapping each other. Uteli eventually joined them—seemingly not interested in talking as she joined the others.

"I take children that end up as refugees with me; some of them were homeless, aimlessly wandering the broad water kingdom until they lost themselves here. Others were abandoned by their families, one of them being Uteli."

„Why collect all of these homeless children then… what use would the knighthood have from coming here?"

„They don't collect—they steal from me… I barely have the mana to use this stone; I can't even defend them properly… and these men use that to their advantage. I don't even want to know what sick things they might plan to do with them."

Midas turned his brows, holding onto his bandaged right hand as he tried to figure out a plausible reason why to bring these children with them—not even knowing if all of them would end up in the capital like Skye most likely would.

„I came here many years ago… I and my husband lived here; he worked as a timberer around Cascrender—sometimes even Brutpierda. I remember the last time he set off—not having returned all these days after. Now I'm waiting… using the money I have to feed these children. Until he comes back"…

Filling in the silence, the elderly woman spoke up in a soft voice—making Midas turn away from the foggy sight the window provided him to muster her expressionless face. Seemingly hopeless—something Midas wasn't able to change about her.

„You came the entire way from the plant kingdom to here…?"

"Yes. The water kingdom seemed promising—the time I met my husband was well before the water kingdom crown ordered the march into the south… For a girl that lived deep inside the forest of a less influential kingdom, it only made sense to go with him."

„I was lucky to have found someone with a carriage… Children like Uteli are less fortunate; she originated from past the most northern mountain range… An icy strip of land that sat in between the long northern coast and the high-rising mountains at the border of the other two kingdoms."

Midas awed dimly at her words, intrigued by such a harsh environment—somewhat mirroring the northern desert, yet in the completely opposite way. A land that sat unbelievably far away from them, even further than the ever-distant chain of mountains he saw on the horizon.