CHAPTER 16: BURIED WITHIN

The raizard moved with ethereal grace, weaving through the dense undergrowth as if it were a phantom of the forest. Moa followed without question, her steps faltering but never stopping. The market's lively bustle had faded into a distant hum, swallowed by the forest's eerie stillness.

Her heart pounded in rhythm with her hurried steps. The raizard's glowing fur was the only beacon in the growing shadows, its presence both terrifying and mesmerizing. Moa's fingers brushed against the bark of ancient trees as she stumbled forward, trying to keep pace.

"Wait," she whispered, though she wasn't sure if the word was meant for the creature or for herself. The raizard paused briefly, turning its head to glance at her, its golden eyes glowing like twin suns.

And then, it pressed forward again.

The forest opened into a clearing unlike any Moa had ever seen. A faint, otherworldly light illuminated the space, casting the trees in silvery hues. The air felt charged, vibrating with an energy that seemed to pulse beneath her skin.

The raizard stopped in the center of the clearing, turning to face her. Moa froze.

For a moment, neither moved. Then the creature began to approach, each step deliberate, its gaze locked onto hers. Moa wanted to retreat, to turn and run, but her body betrayed her. Her legs refused to move, and her breaths came in shallow gasps.

The raizard stopped before her, its towering presence overwhelming. Slowly, it leaned down, its head level with hers. She flinched as its warm breath brushed against her skin. Then it pressed its forehead against hers.

The world around her dissolved.

A flood of emotions and sensations overwhelmed her—a rush of light and sound, of whispers in a language she had only just learned, 

"Marked by the unseen,

Buried within it awaits.

Through trials of fire and a storm's lament,

Carving paths in the forgotten stone,

Bound to seek, yet never known,

Until THE ONE arrives."

These were the very words the seer had spoken in her dream. Hearing this, her ears rang and her heart raced as the raizard pulled back, its eyes blazing brighter than ever.

"What does this mean?" she managed, her voice a trembling whisper. "I know the words... but I don't understand them."

The raizard tilted its head, considering her. When it finally spoke, its voice rumbled through the clearing, deep and resonant, as if the forest itself was speaking through it.

"The prophecy must be fulfilled. What you possess is buried within. And until you meet the one, it shall remain entrapped."

Moa's knees threatened to buckle. Her mind spun with questions, but only one escaped her lips.

"Who is... the one?"

The raizard didn't answer. It turned away, its luminous form beginning to fade into the forest.

"Wait!" Moa cried, taking a desperate step forward.

But when she reached for it, her hands met empty air. The clearing was silent once more, the otherworldly light gone.

Panic clawed at her chest. The forest, so familiar before, now loomed as an impenetrable labyrinth. Every direction seemed the same, an endless sea of shadows and twisting branches.

Moa stumbled through the undergrowth, calling for help, her voice swallowed by the silence. Exhaustion soon overtook her, and she collapsed by the riverside, trembling and lost.

When she awoke, the sky had darkened. A voice, distant and concerned, called her name. She blinked, her vision blurring before focusing on the figure of a villager standing over her. Relief flooded their face as they shook her gently.

"You're safe now," they murmured.

Safe? The word felt foreign. How could she feel safe after what she had witnessed?

By the time she was brought back to the village, her mother was waiting, her face a mix of fury and fear.

"Moa!" she cried, wrapping her arms tightly around her. "Do you know how worried I was? How long we searched for you?"

Her mother's words were a blur, drowned out by the weight of the raizard's cryptic message. The prophecy. The one. What did it mean?

The questions lingered, heavy and unrelenting, as exhaustion claimed her once more. Darkness enveloped her, and the world faded to black.

When Moa awoke, the world around her felt distant, her body heavy as though weighed down by the memories of what had transpired. Her family was gathered close, their faces taut with worry.

Her mother knelt beside her, clutching Moa's hand as though it might vanish. "Moa," she whispered, voice trembling, "what happened? Where were you?"

For a moment, Moa hesitated. The image of the Raizard and its cryptic words surged to the forefront of her mind. She took a shaky breath, forcing a smile to her lips. "I… I saw a cat. A cute little thing. I thought I'd follow it and somehow lost my way trying to find it again."

The room fell silent. Her mother's eyes searched hers for any hint of untruth, but Moa's delivery was flawless. Her voice was steady, her expression sincere. Even as her father exchanged glances with her mother, Moa's words rang so convincingly that the family accepted them without further question.

Yet beneath her composed facade, the truth burned within her like a restless flame. She swore to herself then and there—no one must ever know.

From that day forward, everything about Moa changed. Her once-passive demeanor gave way to a quiet determination that couldn't be ignored. She stopped lingering on the side glances and whispers that followed her wherever she went. The murmurs of suspicion and the burden of her origins—she pushed them aside with a single goal in mind: preparation.

At first, her family thought it was merely a phase. But as the days stretched into weeks, it became clear that Moa was no longer the same girl they had known.

"I want to train," she declared one evening over dinner, catching her father off guard.

"Train?" he echoed, lowering his spoon. "In what?"

"Everything." Her voice was firm, unyielding. "Swordsmanship, archery, hunting, fishing. Anything that makes me stronger."

Her father frowned, glancing toward her mother for support. "Moa, you don't have to—"

"I do," she cut him off, her gaze unwavering. "Please, Father. Let me learn. I won't let you down."

Her father studied her, his expression softening as he sighed. "Very well. But only if you prove your dedication. Training isn't a pastime—it's a lifelong commitment."

And prove herself she did.

Moa threw herself into her training with relentless zeal. Under her father's watchful eye, she began her journey into swordsmanship. The blade felt foreign in her hands at first, but her determination never faltered. Each mistake, each bruise, each exhausting hour spent under the sun only fueled her resolve. She learned the rhythm of the sword, the art of precision, and the discipline of restraint.

When she wasn't training with weapons, she sought knowledge from the village craftsmen. With careful persistence, she convinced the blacksmith to teach her the basics of forging. Though the work was grueling and the heat of the forge unbearable at times, Moa found herself drawn to the craft. She marveled at the transformation of raw materials into tools of strength and survival, seeing in it a reflection of her own journey.

Archery followed soon after. The bow felt more natural in her grasp, though hitting a moving target was a challenge that took months to overcome. The thrill of each successful shot, however, reminded her of her purpose. She practiced tirelessly, her hands roughened by the string and her arms bearing the marks of her dedication.

Hunting and fishing became her weekend rituals. She learned the ways of the forest, the subtle signs of animal trails, and the patience required to set traps. The riverside, once a place of fear, became her sanctuary. Casting her line into the flowing waters, she felt a rare sense of peace amidst the chaos of her newfound life.

But no matter how many skills she acquired, no matter how much she honed her body and mind, Moa could not shake the memory of the Raizard's words: "The prophecy must be fulfilled. What you possess is buried within. And until you meet 'the one,' it shall remain entrapped."

Who was "the one"? What did the Raizard mean by "buried within"? These questions haunted her, driving her to push herself harder than ever. In the quiet hours of the night, she would lie awake, replaying the encounter in her mind. The way its golden eyes had seen through her, the strange harmony in its voice as it spoke, the cold emptiness that followed its disappearance—it was all etched into her soul.

Despite the fear that lingered in her heart, Moa felt a strange sense of purpose blooming within her. She didn't know who "the one" was or when she would meet them, but she knew that her journey was inevitable. And when the time came, she vowed she would be ready.

Years passed, and Moa's reputation in the village began to shift. The once-sheltered girl who was whispered about behind closed doors had become a figure of quiet strength. While the villagers still avoided her out of habit, they could not ignore her competence. Some even began to admire her resilience, though they rarely voiced it aloud.

But Moa didn't care for their opinions. She wasn't training to prove herself to them. She was training for the journey ahead—the journey that would one day lead her to the truth about the prophecy, the Raizard, and herself.