New companion

Lennox stirred, still in the darkness of unknown place. He sat up, disoriented, the events of the last few days flooding his mind. His eyes darted toward the shaman's lifeless body, still lying where it had fallen. The staff, rested beside it.

"What now?" Lennox muttered, his voice hoarse.

He approached the body cautiously, his gaze lingering on the staf. Something about it felt… familiar, almost like the runes on his skin. He picked it up, its weight solid in his hands. Then the staf transform into tatoo on his back on lennox hand. "What the?"

After trying for so long, lennox cant summon the staf out. He can only felt it but not use it.

With a deep breath, Lennox began to walk. Though he had no clear idea of where he was going, a strange instinct guided his steps.

"Is it the rune?" he wondered aloud.

The cold stone halls eventually gave way to sunlight as Lennox emerged from the ancient temple. The structure loomed behind him, weathered and imposing, its carvings telling tales he couldn't yet understand.

But as he stepped into the open air, a sharp realization hit him, he was completely exposed. "No clothes…" he mumbled, quickly retreating into the temple.

Inside, he found what remained of his captors, their bodies lifeless, their black robes still intact. Lennox hesitated, then stripped a robe from one of the creatures and wrapped it around himself. It was loose and strange against his skin, but it would do. Nearby, a sword lay abandoned. He picked it up, testing its balance.

With his makeshift gear, Lennox ventured out again, the dense forest swallowing him.

Hours later, he came across a river. The sight of the clear, rushing water was a relief. He knelt, drank deeply, and then paused as he noticed movement nearby, a wild pig rooting through the underbrush.

His stomach growled. "Food…"

The hunt was clumsy but effective. Lennox's newfound strength made short work of the animal, though he wasn't skilled with his sword. He built a fire with dry wood he gathered and cooked the meat, the aroma filling the air.

As night fell, Lennox climbed a sturdy tree, finding a secure spot to rest. He gazed at the distant forest, where a faint light flickered. Voices echoed faintly, the sounds of a distant skirmish.

"Not my problem," Lennox muttered, closing his eyes.

Morning came with the rustle of leaves and faint voices. Lennox tensed, peering down from his perch. Below, three men stumbled through the forest, their clothes torn, their look injured.

"Humans?" Lennox thought, his heart racing.

Before he could decide what to do, the sounds of pursuit followed, armored soldiers, their swords gleaming in the sunlight.

The three men spotted Lennox in the tree. "Hey, kid!" one shouted. "Run!"

But Lennox didn't run.Those soldier also saw him, As the soldiers charged, something inside him snapped. His grip tightened on his sword, and he leaped down.

The fight was chaotic. Lennox swung wildly, but his strength right now much stronger than normal human, made him a force to be reckoned with. Soldiers fell, one after another, unable to match his speed or power.

When it was over, the three men stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Who are you?" one asked, his voice trembling.

"I'm… not your enemy," Lennox replied, lowering his weapon and pulling back his hood to reveal his young face.

The men exchanged glances. "Just a kid…super strong kid"

"You should get out of here, kid," another said. "This place isn't safe. Westmoor already fall, Count Eastquest hadve claim this land his. Those soldiers you just took down were his."

The news hit Lennox hard. "Baron is… dead?"

"Yeah. Better you run before Count men find you," the man advised.

Lennox turned to leave, but one of them called out. "Hey, wait! How about you come with us?"

"Me?" Lennox asked, surprised.

"Yeah," the silver-haired man said, stepping forward. "I can't just leave a kid alone out here. You handled yourself well back there. Name's Julien."

The others introduced themselves, Roger, with his shaggy brown hair, and Marcus, the quiet one with jet-black hair.

They explained they were mercenaries once hired by Westmoor, now on the run from Eastquest's forces.

"Join us," Julien said. "We could use someone like you."

Lennox hesitated, noticing how Marcus and Roger deferred to Julien, whose expensive-looking sword marked him as more than just a hired blade.

"Yeah, come on," Marcus encouraged. "We could use the help."

"All right," Lennox said finally. "I'll come with you."

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The soft morning light filtered through the thick canopy above, the golden rays creating intricate patterns on the forest floor. Lennox stirred, wincing as his sore muscles protested. The previous day's battle with the soldiers had left his body aching and bruised. He stretched his arms, brushing off bits of bark from the tree where he'd spent the night.

"Morning, tree hugger," Roger called up, a lopsided grin on his face. He was crouched by the smoldering remains of their fire, poking it idly with a stick.

Lennox groaned, climbing down carefully. "Better a tree hugger than whatever you are."

Roger laughed. "Touché."

Julien, already standing with his arms crossed, motioned for them to pack up. "We're moving. Eastquest's men are probably still searching for us."

Marcus, who had been silently sharpening his blade, nodded. "Agreed. The forest might be a helpfull for us, but it's also a trap if we're not careful."

As they prepared to leave, Lennox adjusted his makeshift robe, a black garment he had taken from one of the fallen creature. The material hung loosely on his slender frame, but it was better than nothing.

Julien smiled. "Good. Now, let's get moving. Our "hideout" kinda far from here"

"Where is it?" Lennox asked.

"You'll see,its much better than this dangerous forest" Julien replied.

"Why'd you even run into this forest if it's so dangerous?" Lennox asked as they set off, his voice cutting through the early morning silence.

Roger scratched the back of his head, avoiding Julien's pointed glare. "Well… it was my brilliant idea."

"Brilliant?" Marcus snorted. "It was either this or fighting an entire battalion. You thought the wolves were the less dangerous."

"They were! We're alive, aren't we?" Roger shot back, puffing out his chest. "Thanks to Lennox, of course."

Julien shook his head. "Barely. Your 'brilliant' plans are going to get us all killed one day."

The group trudged through the forest, the ground soft with fallen leaves and damp soil. Shadows played tricks on Lennox's eyes, making him feel like the trees themselves were watching. He tightened his grip on his sword, his senses alert.

As they walked, Roger tried to lighten the mood. "Did I ever tell you about the time I outran a pack of wolves?"

Julien sighed loudly. "No. And we don't want to hear it."

"It's a good story!" Roger insisted. "So there I was, surrounded by—"

"Wolves," Marcus interrupted flatly. "We've heard it a hundred times, Roger. Spare us."

Roger feigned offense, placing a hand dramatically on his chest. "You're all so cruel. One day, you'll miss my stories."

"If that day ever comes, I'll personally invite a wolf to finish the job," Marcus muttered, earning a snort of laughter from Lennox.

Despite the banter, an underlying tension hung in the air. The forest was alive with the sounds of distant birds and rustling leaves, but there was also an eerie stillness, as though something unseen was watching them. Lennox's runes occasionally pulsed faintly, their red glow barely visible beneath the folds of his robe.

"Do your arms always do that?" Marcus asked, glancing at the faint glow.

Lennox hesitated, unsure how to explain the strange markings. "It's… ."

"Nah you dont need to tell us," Roger said with a grin. "Mysterious kid with super streanght helping people in danger like us. Classic hero material."

"I'm not a hero," Lennox said firmly.

"No? Could've fooled me," Roger replied, winking. "But seriously, what's the deal with those tattoos?"

Lennox remained silent, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. The truth was, he didn't fully understand the runes either. They felt like a part of him, yet completely foreign, like an ancient language etched into his skin.

The sun climbed higher, casting long beams of light through the trees. The forest seemed endless, its towering pines and twisted roots stretching as far as the eye could see. The group moved cautiously, avoiding clearings and sticking to the denser parts of the woods.

"Let's take a break," Julien said after a few hours. "We'll eat and rest before we keep moving."

They found a small clearing surrounded by thick underbrush, a safe spot to stop. Roger flopped onto the ground dramatically, letting out an exaggerated groan.

"My feet are killing me. This forest is endless."

Marcus smirked. "Maybe if you stopped talking, you'd conserve some energy."

Roger shot him a glare but didn't respond, too tired to come up with a retort.

Lennox sat down against a tree, pulling out a piece of the dried meat Julien had given him earlier. As he chewed, his thoughts drifted back to the events that had led him here, the temple, the shaman, the staff that had somehow become a part of him. He flexed his hand, half-expecting the staff to reappear, but nothing happened.

"Lennox," Marcus said, sitting beside him. "Why were you alone in the forest?"

Lennox hesitated, the question catching him off guard. "It's… complicated," he repeated.

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Everything's complicated with you, huh?"

Lennox nodded, the weight of his past heavy on his shoulders. "I don't remember much. Just bits and pieces."

"Fair enough," Marcus said with a small smile. "But if you ever feel like talking, we're here."

Lennox nodded again, appreciating the gesture, even if he wasn't ready to share.

After a brief rest, the group resumed their journey. The forest grew darker as the day wore on, the thick canopy blocking out much of the sunlight. The air was cool and damp, carrying the faint scent of moss and earth.

As night fell, they found another clearing to set up camp. Julien assigned shifts for keeping watch, and the group settled in for the night. Lennox sat by the fire, staring at the flickering flames as the runes on his arms pulsed faintly.

Roger sat down beside him, stretching his legs out with a sigh. "You're a quiet one, huh?"

"I talk when there's something worth saying," Lennox replied.

Roger chuckled. "Fair enough. But just so you know, you're stuck with us now. We're your new best friends."

"Lucky me," Lennox said dryly, earning a laugh from Roger.

The night passed uneventfully, the group taking turns keeping watch. By morning, they were ready to move again, their spirits slightly lifted by the uneventful night.

"Let's get out of this cursed forest," Julien said, leading the way. "The sooner we're out, the better."

The group pressed on, their steps lighter as the forest began to thin. The trees grew sparser, and the sunlight finally broke through the canopy in full force. Lennox felt a sense of relief as they left the dense shadows behind, but he couldn't shake the feeling unease.

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Maybe better this way, tell me your opinion guys :)