Chapter 5 - Forest

My legs pushed through dirt and tangled roots, heart slamming against my ribs.

Idiot. Idiot. Why did I yell at her like that? Why did she take it so personally? N-no shit sherlock! Of course she did! Anyone that get yelled like that would obviously take it personally!

Branches whipped my arms. Leaves snagged my sleeves. Still, I didn't stop.

"Paul, you big moron!" I muttered to myself.

Each time I blinked, I saw her face, that look when she bit her lip, trying not to cry. Then the part when she screamed she didn't need magic.

I didn't mean it like that. I just...

A root nearly tripped me. I stumbled, caught myself. Then I saw it.

Blood.

A splatter on the grass. I skidded to a stop as my eyes widened as I dropped to one knee, brushing a leaf aside. Another smear. Then a trail. Dried red streaks, some still wet.

Too big for a rabbit, I realized. Definitely not human. But fresh.

My stomach twisted. She fought something. A cold weight dropped in my gut.

What if..?

No. No, no— before my thoughts could stretch, I heard a scream, faint, but I heard it. High-pitched. Echoing through the trees.

I recognized it instantly.

Lyra.

I bolted, heart racing, feet pounding so hard the ground felt like it was cracking beneath me. I leapt over a fallen log, rounded a crumbling ridge, then slowed.

Voices...

I crouched low and crept toward the edge of a bush, careful not to snap a twig, and there she was. Tied to a tree. Face dirty. Sword on the ground, just out of reach. Her arms bound. Her expression defiant but shaken.

Six men were dressed in ragged black clothes, scarved faces and grimy boots, heaved the carcasses of three black wolves onto a creaky wooden wagon. Each beast, large and dark-furred, bore the marks of a brutal struggle. Blood matted their fur, but the wounds were clean, intentional, and practiced strikes.

Just a few feet away, Lyra sat tied to the base of a tree, her arms bound tightly behind her. Her cheeks were smudged with dirt, her knees scraped from the skirmish. Her sword; a rust-bitten old thing from the village rack, lay a few feet away in the grass, just out of reach.

"HEY! LET ME GO!" she shouted, thrashing against the ropes. "THOSE WERE MY KILLS!"

One of the bandits tossed the last wolf onto the wagon and wiped his brow. "Thank you for your generous donation," he said with a smug grin. "Black wolves. These'll fetch a fat coin purse."

Another leaned against the wagon, crossing his arms. "Boss," he nodded toward the struggling girl. "What do we do with her?"

A man emerged from the shadows of a crooked pine, lighting a cigarette with a match that flared orange against the dimming green. His hair was swept back, streaked with gray, and a wicked scar ran down his left eye. There's a sword strapped behind him. His voice was low and calm.

"We take her," he said simply, snapping the lighter closed with a flick. "We let her go, she tells the village. They'll be on edge. And our raid plan? Burned."

One of the other men laughed darkly. "Or we have some fun before we take her. She's a feisty one."

"She'd sell well, too," another added, his grin missing several teeth.

"Rghh!? WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!" Lyra roared, her voice trembling with rage.

The leader exhaled a long stream of smoke, his eyes drifting lazily to the wagon where the three black wolf corpses lay. "Honestly impressive. Girl your age taking down three of those? What do they feed you in that village?"

One of the bandits, a lanky man with greasy hair and twitchy fingers, stepped toward her, an ugly grin stretching across his face. "Maybe we find out up close," he muttered.

The leader didn't even glance back. "Enough. Load the rest. We'll move out soon."

Lyra's breathing sharpened. Her wrists strained against the ropes binding her to the tree.

"Hey! Don't come near me!" she barked, panic rising in her throat.

The greasy bandit kept walking, his shadow falling over her like a curtain. "Or what? You gonna yip at me like your dead mutts?"

"I said, DON'T COME NEAR!" Her voice cracked with fear and fury.

His grin widened. "Aw, the little killer's scared now?"

Her bright yellow eyes shimmered. She turned her face away, blinking fast, chest rising and falling too quickly.

She felt it creeping in. That sick, clenching weight in her gut.

That awful truth she couldn't shake.

She couldn't fight.

Not like this. Not tied down.

"P... Papa... M-Mama... Kyro..."

Her whisper trembled into the trees.

Then suddenly..

Thunk.

The greasy bandit flinched as a clump of dirt smacked him square in the temple.

"What the hell?"

His gaze snapped to the treeline. I was already sprinting towards the man and the dirt wasn't an attack, but a distraction.

My distraction.

"Who—?!"

I ducked low, and moved across the grass, and slammed my palm against his gut, a burst of mana already gathered in my palm. I spoke no words, just intent.

Wind. Blast. Push.

BOOM.

A sudden, focused gust of wind erupted from my hand, launching the bandit backwards like a ragdoll. He flew across the clearing, smashed into a tree trunk with a sickening crack, and slumped to the ground, coughing.

Aura shimmered faintly around the bandit as he staggered to his feet, rage twisting his face. "Ughh! You'll pay for that, brat!"

The other bandits froze in shock.

"What the—?!"

"Where did he come from?!"

"He's just a kid!"

One of them, broader and meaner with jagged teeth and a crooked nose, hefted his axe. "Don't matter. We gut him, grab the girl, and go."

I didn't waste time. I rushed straight to Lyra, my heart pounding.

"Kyro!" she called out, stunned, and for a moment, relieved. I dropped to my knees beside her and grabbed the ropes binding her wrists. My fingers brushed the coarse, fibrous texture.

It's Tree bark. It's tough, but organic. Good.

I took a breath, steadying my mana despite the pounding in my head and used Wither without saying the spell.

A pulse of mana surged through me. The bark rope hissed as it dried, shriveled, and then crumbled to dust in my hands.

She blinked, stunned. "Huh?"

But then the recoil hit me. A wave of dizziness slammed into my skull like a hammer. My knees buckled.

"H-Hey! This ain't the time to sleep!" Lyra caught me by the shoulders just before I slumped to the ground.

I let out a weak chuckle, trying to shake the fuzz from my vision. "S-sorry... just... kinda overdid it a little..."

"KYRO, LOOK OUT!"

She yanked me toward her with a burst of strength, and my face collided into her chest as an arrow thwacked into the tree trunk behind where I'd just been.

I blinked, stunned. "Ow—what was—?!"

Lyra's eyes flared with fury as she scooped up her sword. "It's that guy!"

The leader stood at a distance, lowering his bow, a thin trail of smoke curling from the cigarette clenched between his teeth. "That kid's got tricks," he muttered, "but he just made it worse for both of them."

The rest of the bandits were closing in, weapons drawn and eyes locked on us like predators scenting blood.

Lyra's grin widened as she gripped her sword tighter. "Heh... good. I was getting bored."

What the hell?! This kid is seriously considering fighting them? She was just bound by a rope! I thought.

"No!" I grabbed her wrist and yanked her back. "You won't last five seconds! There's six of them!"

She blinked at me, shocked. "What?! You seriously want to run?!"

But I was already moving, grabbing her arm as I muttered, "Think fast or we both die."

"Rghh, I hate when you're right!" she hissed, reluctantly turning with me as we sprinted into the forest.

Behind us, the bandits cursed and gave chase, their footsteps thundering after us like drums of war. Branches whipped past us, claws of bark and leaf slashing at our arms and faces as we sprinted through the forest. Our legs burned. Our lungs screamed. But we didn't stop. Because they were right behind us. Heavy boots pounded the forest floor. Shouts echoed through the trees. Arrows thunked into trunks just inches from our heads.

"Move, move, MOVE!" I shouted, yanking Lyra's wrist as we ducked under a low branch.

A blur of steel slashed overhead; an axe swing. We barely ducked it. Lyra twisted and clanged her sword against the blade of a bandit, sparks flying. His Aura flared orange from the impact, staggering him just enough for us to get a few more steps ahead.

"They're gaining!" Lyra gasped.

"We're smaller!" I panted. "Use it!"

We darted between tightly packed trees, slipping through gaps too narrow for adults. Behind us, curses erupted as the bandits had to veer around.

But not the leader.

He was gone from the group. Somewhere in the woods, he'd broken off, moving silently, methodically. We didn't notice, because we were too focused on surviving.

Another bandit leapt from the side, his knife gleaming. Lyra parried instinctively, slashing his wrist aside and ducking low. "Go!" she shouted, pushing me ahead as the man grunted in frustration. I scanned my surroundings as we ran, then, my eyes widened.

"There!" I shouted.

Ahead, the ground sloped steeply downward. It was a natural down-hill, slick with moss and lined with roots. And at the bottom, half-hidden by bramble and time, was the hollowed trunk of a fallen tree, massive and open like a tunnel. We didn't slow down as we jumped in. A hand reached — just inches from Lyra's skyblue long hair. Then darkness swallowed us as we slid into the hollow. The inside reeked of damp rot, bark scraping our sides as we tumbled through.

And then, SPLASH! We hit a pond at the bottom. It was cold, mucky and deep.. It was very deep.

I surfaced, gasping. "Lyra?!"

She thrashed beside me, panicked. "K-Kyro—! I can't—!"

She didn't know how to swim.

I grabbed her wrist, pulled her close. My mana was low, but not empty.

I focused, using Wordless Casting. The water around us shimmered and resisted me at first, but then it softened, parting slightly, easing our movement. I kicked off the water using my magic, manipulating the water for a short amount of time and dragged her to shore.

We collapsed on the muddy bank, coughing and shivering, but alive.

"We... we made it..." I said between breaths.

"No," came a voice from behind.

I turned and a fist like stone slammed into my ribs.

WHUMP.

The world spun, pain exploded through my chest as I was launched off my feet, back into the pond. I barely registered the water around me.

The leader stepped out of the shadows beneath the trees, cracking his knuckles, a smirk curling under his cigarette.

"You kids almost impressed me."

Lyra staggered to her feet, soaked, panting. "Y-you—!"

She rushed him with her sword, aura flaring one last time. But he stepped sideways with frightening precision and drove his knee into her gut.

CRACK.

Her aura shattered like glass. She choked, coughing spit as she crumpled to her knees, her sword falling limp to the mud beside her. The swamp around us was quiet, save for the soft ripple of water... and the slow approach of heavy footsteps. The leader exhaled smoke again, eyes calm, almost amused as he watched Lyra struggle on her knees.

"That was a good attempt to escape," he said, voice low and casual, "but unfortunately... you're out of luck."

I groaned, trying to sit up. My limbs felt like logs, my chest tight and burning with every breath.

My fingers clawed at the mud.

L-Lyra...

That was all I could think.

She was trembling, soaked and bruised, trying to lift herself, but her aura was gone. She had nothing left. The leader reached down and grabbed a handful of her hair.

"You're one fiery brat," he muttered, pulling her up by her scalp.

Lyra gasped, her teeth clenched in rage and pain.

"From what I've seen... you're already an Intermediate-level swordsman. Impressive, really." He tilted her face toward him, his cigarette trailing smoke beside her cheek. "Your village must be hiding some serious talent."

Behind him, heavy boots crunched against the wet earth. The rest of the bandits had caught up.

"They're just kids," one muttered, spitting into the dirt.

"No," the leader said. "If a nine-year-old can fight like this, that village must have strong warriors, real ones. We may have just struck gold."

He yanked Lyra higher by the hair, lifting her off her feet. She kicked, her voice caught in a growl, fury burning in her eyes. I forced my hand into the mud, trying to push myself up.

Move. Please... MOVE.

Just then, a rustle. A shout.

"Over there! S-someone's coming!"

The leader turned his head.

One of the bandits stepped forward, sword drawn. "I'll handle it."

He didn't take more than three steps before a flash of steel carved through the trees.

SHHK—!

The bandit's eyes went wide.

A clean slash opened across his both of his knees, and he dropped. He groaned in pain but his face was immediately kicked. The bandit fell unconscious.

Silence.

Then... footsteps. Calm. Heavy. Intentional.

Out from the trees stepped a man. His coat torn at the shoulder. His sword dripping red.

Saul.

His eyes were locked on the leader. Expression unreadable. Cold.

"Put the girl down," he said.

[End]