Lesson of Forests

The Kurogin lunged, its massive frame tearing through branches like paper.

But before it could reach them, Dune vanished from her side.

Fast…

Liora barely had time to blink. Dune was already in motion, circling around the beast with precise, silent footwork. 

Syras followed, just behind him, rougher in movement. His steps cracked the ground, loud and sharp, but his eyes were locked, wild with focus.

The creature twisted, letting out a gurgling snarl as its fur shifted shades, blue melting into black, then pulsing with a strange, oily green.

The Kurogin opened its jaws and fired.

Streams of dark green Neba shot like liquid needles, aiming to impale them both. But Dune had already leapt above the spray, flipping mid-air, the scythe in his hand gleaming silver in the morning light.

Syras didn't jump. He ducked low, then dashed forward, closing in on the beast with brutal speed. His foot struck the Kurogin's jaw with a heavy thud.

Liora expected the creature to be knocked back.

Instead, as it tried to leap away, its legs bent to flee, something shifted.

Like the very pull of the world had flipped.

The beast's leap cut short mid-air and its body slammed downward with bone-cracking force, crashing to the earth like gravity had yanked it from above.

What…?

Liora's eyes widened slightly.

She didn't understand what she had just seen.

But Syras wasn't waiting for questions. His weapon was already in motion, fast and jagged. With one clean slice, he severed both of the Kurogin's long ears in a spray of black blood.

The beast let out a disoriented shriek, limbs flailing, its balance gone.

Dune didn't miss the opening.

He darted forward, a blur of movement beneath the beast's chest, then up its flank. His Neba flared inside his body, quiet and controlled.

One clean motion.

A flash of silver. A spray of blood. The Kurogin's massive head slid from its neck and crashed to the ground. Its body followed soon after.

Silence settled over the forest.

Liora stared at the two of them, Dune standing with his weapon still raised, calm and composed. Syras beside him, weapon dripping with dark blood, a crooked grin on his face.

They had only used those weapons once before. She knew that. And yet… They moved like they were born with it.

She looked again at the spot where Syras had kicked the beast, and still didn't understand.

Syras wiped the blood off his scythe with a flick, then stretched both arms above his head with a loud yawn.

"That was easy," he said, half-laughing.

Dune exhaled slowly, his breath curling into the cold air like smoke. His eyes shifted to Syras, who was now crouched beside the lifeless bulk of the Kurogin beast, poking at it with the butt of his scythe.

"…Do you know how to cook?" Dune asked, voice flat as ever.

Syras blinked, then grinned like a wolf.

"I could roast this thing blindfolded." He patted his stomach. "And I'm so hungry I could eat the whole damn creature."

The three of them rested on a jagged cliff overlooking the sea of twisted trees below. The wind was cruel at this height, brushing past them with a whistle like a blade being drawn. 

A small fire sparked in the center, held in place by a ring of green stones Syras had gathered without saying much. Orange light flickered over the cliff's edge, dancing across the curves of the Kurogin's pale, armored body.

Syras worked quickly, crouched beside the beast. His scythe, a brutal, curved weapon more suited for slicing limbs than filleting meat, was clumsy in this kind of work. He cursed under his breath more than once, but his hands never slowed.

Liora stepped into the edge of the firelight, silent as a shadow. Her fox-shaped mask caught the light in soft glints of gold, and her dark cloak fluttered slightly in the breeze. 

She simply extended her hand, palm upward, and allowed her green Neba to pulse and take shape.

In the space between them, a blade formed, sleek, thin, and sharp as intent.

Syras blinked at her, then laughed. "You serious?"

She said nothing. Only tilted her head.

"Well… thanks, fox-face." He took the blade from her, careful not to let their fingers touch.

With the new weapon in hand, the process changed. His movements grew surgical. He carved the Kurogin open with precise, smooth strokes, slicing through its pale flesh like it was fruit. 

Warm steam rose from the cuts, carrying a sour, wild scent. Before moving further, Syras pressed two fingers into the beast's side and closed his eyes.

Neba rippled out from him, green threads sinking into the Kurogin's veins. He held the connection for a moment, frowning faintly as he scanned its internal makeup. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes and exhaled in relief.

"Not poisonous," he muttered. "Smells awful, but shouldn't kill us."

"Take the core for you, i'll take the next one." Dune muttered next to him. 

The fire crackled as he skewered thick strips of meat and positioned them over the flame.

Soon, they sat around the fire in a loose triangle, Dune watching quietly, Liora silent as always, and Syras leaned back on one arm, turning the meat slowly with a stick. 

The warmth finally touched their skin, chasing away the edge of the night.

"This reminds me of old times," Syras said, breaking the silence, "my dad would be proud right now. Maybe even cry, if he had any tears left in those tired eyes."

Dune glanced at him, curious but silent.

Syras continued anyway, grin playing under his breath. "My whole family was busy hunting. We all grew up in a harsh forest, just west of Rendely, down where silver mountains are located. We tracked many hollows, sold their cores, smoked their meat. Every kill was a lesson."

He tossed a small bone into the fire, where it hissed and curled.

"My father said, 'If you can kill it, you can eat it. If you can't eat it, you can learn from it. And if it kills you, well, better luck next life.'" Syras chuckled. "Real poet." 

Dune's lips didn't move, but his eyes softened slightly.

Syras went on. "We did that for years. Made good coin. Enough to move to Rendely, the capital. Fancy streets, tall windows, guards with golden armours. We didn't fit in at all. My mother tried to run a spice shop. My dad got bored and joined a hunting team just to feel something."

Liora shifted faintly, her masked gaze steady on the flames.

"I hated Rendely at first. All that order. All that silence. But you know what?" 

"While my father and a harsh forests taught me how to survive in the wild." He looked up, meeting Dune's gaze. "Rendely taught me how to survive people."

The fire crackled low, casting long shadows over the rocky cliff. Syras chewed on a strip of cooked Kurogin, still talking in that easy, nostalgic way that seemed to ignore how many monsters were hunting them.

When he finished his story with a chuckle, silence followed, brief, but not uncomfortable.

Dune glanced toward him, the firelight dancing across his pale face.

"That was… a nice story, your father is a good man." he said. His voice was quiet, but genuine.

Syras blinked. "Yes he was." 

Dune didn't reply. Instead, he turned his gaze to the silent figure beside them. Liora sat still, her yellow fox mask tilted slightly downward, as if she were studying the flames. But she hadn't responded once, not to the story, not to the laughter, not to the mood.

"She didn't hear a word of it," Dune murmured.

Then, the lines of his neck lit up softly, pulsing green, like veins filled with light. He closed his eyes for a moment.

Liora's head tilted. Slowly, she nodded.

Syras blinked, his half-eaten meat forgotten in his hand. "Okay, what the hell was that? Did you just talk to her… with neba in your neck… no wait, is that what you were trying to do?"

Dune smirked faintly. "Yeah thanks to that we are not captured anymore. Technique itself is difficult but not impossible."

Syras groaned and flopped dramatically back onto the rock. "Woah, nice work Dune, teach me how it works."

Dune turned his gaze toward him, the faint glow fading from his skin. "You just need a bridge. A connection. Physical contact, or something that lets the Neba flow. She has no ears to hear, but she can sense intention… if you guide it."

Syras raised a brow. "A bridge, huh? What, like… a string between cups?"

"Something like that," Dune said.

They practiced through the hour, Syras fumbling, then focusing. Liora, patient as ever, observed two calmly. She simply watched. And then, wordlessly, she lifted her hand and summoned something from the green neba around her.

A long, slender rod formed from her Neba, metallic in sheen, but pulsing faintly like it lived. Three ends split from its core. One pointed to her. One extended to Syras. And one to Dune.

Syras stared at it, wide-eyed. "Good job! This is perfect." 

Dune didn't speak. He just placed his fingers lightly on his end.

Syras mirrored him.

The moment contact was made, a soft green glow pulsed up Syras's neck. His breath caught.

And then, connection.

He looked at Liora, and something shifted in his expression. His usual smirk softened.

"Hi" he thought.

Liora paused. Then, her voice echoed gently into his mind, calm and light like a falling leaf.

"Hello whisper, i'm Liora."

Syras gasped. "She said her name!"

Dune nodded once. "Yeah im sitting next to you."

Syras beamed, leaning a little closer to the rod like it might help. "I'm Syras nice to meet you Liora!" 

"Sorry about my friend Dune, he was rude to you before, but he's a good guy deep down. I swear." 

Liora turned her masked head toward Dune. Slowly, she nodded again.

Dune sighed and rolled his eyes. 

The three sat close, connected by the metal rod of Neba glowing faintly between them, binding their thoughts in silence.