The beast's retreat: Disappearing.

As the battle carry on, Rhys and the king had done everything in their power to push the beast back. But the creature's immense strength had nearly subdued them.

Amara was standing behind a pillar, watching. Her heart raced in her chest. She hadn't dared to step closer, but she couldn't look away. Her grip on the child in her arms tightened, still breathing, softly. It was a boy of a seven to eight but it felt as if it was a baby, fragile and weak. His eyes were closed and didn't make any sound.

The pendant around Amara's neck suddenly began to glow, the soft light radiating with such an intensity. Her heart pulsing, she reached for it.

Suddenly, the fire beast amidst it's rampage paused. It raised it's head, sniffing the air. His fiery eyes instantly landed on amara from across the courtyard. After a moment of locking his eyes with her as if sensing something, the beast seemed to hesitate. His large feet drawing back slowly. It recoiled and swiftly turned and retreated. It's massive form crawling the walls of the castle with a surprising speed. 

For a brief moment, everything stood still. The soldiers who had been bracing themselves for another wave of destruction were left in stunned silence.

The battle had ceased as suddenly as it had begun.

"It's gone," Rhys muttered, his voice thick with disbelief. The soldiers, too, began to lower their weapons, the tension in the air lifting as the growls and roars of the beast faded into the distance.

The king, exhausted and covered in sweat, stood by his side, his face a mixture of relief and exhaustion. His hand reached out to the prince, who had appeared by his side and was now embracing his father in a tight, relieved hug. The prince's voice was strained, as if the fear he had been holding in was finally breaking.

"It's not over yet," the king said, his voice rough. "We need to be prepared. They could return."

The prince nodded, though the lingering sense of victory was palpable in his embrace. For a brief moment, they had been saved. But Rhys , though quiet, was clearly disturbed by what had just happened. Something about the retreat didn't sit right with him. The beast had left too suddenly, and it had been drawn away with what ?!.

He scanned the area, his sharp eyes looking for any sign of cause. But as his gaze moved, he caught sight of someone who had been hiding behind the pillar.

Amara.

She was standing at the edge of the courtyard, half-hidden behind one of the stone pillars, her back to the wall. She was still holding the child in her arms, the shawl wrapped tightly around it. Amara's face was pale, her eyes wide, but there was a quiet determination in her posture. She hadn't meant to be seen, but she couldn't stay hidden any longer.

Rhys's heart skipped a beat when he saw her. The child in her arms. His mind raced with questions to how she was outside carrying a child in her arms, instead being safely hidden in the chambers?!. But before he could move, the sound of the prince's voice cut through his thoughts.

"Alistair," the prince called, stepping up to Rhys and placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "You've done well. Your efforts have protected us today."

Rhys glanced at the prince, his face a mask of stoicism. He nodded silently, acknowledging the prince's words, but his mind was still focused on the sight of Amara. What was she doing here?. The question was still playing in his mind. 

And the child??. She must have saved it or....?!

Before Rhys could make his way over to her, the king stepped forward, his voice grave. "Go and check the beast." He ordered.

Rhys nodded in agreement, but his eyes when returned back to the spot where he saw Amara. It was empty, she had gone.

He tried to manoeuver through the path , he guessed that maybe she had gone through it but he couldn't be able to see any sign of her.

————————————————

Three days had passed since the battle with the fire beasts, and the castle had fallen into an uneasy stillness. The fire beasts had retreated, but the war with the other kingdom, one they had failed to deliver the beast to, still loomed in the air.

The prince, in his usual manner, threw a lavish party to celebrate what he considered a victory. His cups were full, and his laughter echoed through the grand halls of the castle. He toasted to his father and to Rhys, boasting about their valor and the success of driving the beasts away.

But no one was truly celebrating.

The king had been present but his face cold and distant. His son was partying in the face of such danger was too much for him to tolerate. With a final scowl, he had stopped his son recklessness immediately, muttering something about the kingdom's dire future and the preparations they had to make for the war sure was to come. The prince's festivities fell into an awkward silence as the realization sank in, that they weren't cerebrating victory, they were merely stalling the inevitable.

Rhys, on the other hand, couldn't bring himself to be a part of it. He hadn't been in the party, hadn't felt the slightest bit of joy or relief. There was too much on his mind. Something else that weighed most heavily on him.

Amara.

There was no sign of her anywhere in the castle. After the battle, she had disappeared without a word. The more he thought about it, the more it gnawed at him.

After finding the beast lay died in the dungeon, he couldn't shake the feeling that Amara was involved,. She couldn't have just vanished like that. 

She had been in the dungeon the night of the battle. He had known that she had stolen the keys from him. 

The rain was falling heavily that night, he searched for Amara. The sound of it pattering against the stone walls of the castle. Rhys walked through the damp corridors, his boots squelching as he made his to the outside the castle. He has to check at her house, he thought.

The rain fell relentlessly over him, soaking Rhys to the bone as he rode through the night. Cold, heavy droplets pelted his face. His boots squelched in the mud with every step. The wind howled in the distance, and the world around him seemed to blur into a haze of thunderstorm and waterlogged streets. But Rhys didn't care about the storm. 

He had to find her.

His thoughts were heavy as he guided the horse down the familiar path to the small house outside the castle walls. Amara's place. It was quiet here, as usual far from the chaos of the castle.

The horse came to a stop in front of the house, and Rhys dismounted, the rain dripping from his soaked coat and into his boots. He didn't pause to gather his thoughts. There was no time. He appoached the door.

His heart raced as he pushed the door open, it's creaking sound of the hinges almost drowned out by the storm's fury. Inside, the room was just as he remembered —quiet, modest, filled with books and papers. But Amara wasn't there.

On her desk, he found a neatly folded piece of paper. A letter.

It was administered for him as he read the name "Rhys" on the back of the paper.

He slowly picked it up. Before unfolded it, the words that followed were 

---

"Rhys,

I am sorry for leaving without a word, but I must go. There is something I must do. The war is coming, and I cannot remain here. I need to find my place in this world, and I must do it alone.

I have nothing but gratitude for you for everything you've done for me since we met. I will always carry that with me.

I hope the war goes in your favor. Perhaps, when all is done, our paths will cross again.

Until then, I wish you strength.

Amara."

---

Rhys stood frozen, the rain outside battered the windows as he stared at the letter, his heart heavy with confusion and disappointment. What had happened to her?

His fingers gripped the letter tighter, his thoughts spiraling. With a final look at the room that had once felt like home to her, Rhys tucked the letter into his coat. He had nothing left to do. If she had decided to choose her path alone.