Contents Warning : 

Graphic description of wounds.

Viewer discretion is advised.

 

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It was a massacre. Whatever had happened here wasn’t a battle, it was a slaughter.

Ayah averted her gaze from a half corpse suspended from a trunk, the lower half embedded where the monster’s mouth would have been. For a second, her mind reminded her this was what would have happened if she hadn’t been quick enough.

Did he die before or after they had killed the giant tree? Suddenly Ayah didn’t want to know the answer, didn’t want to acknowledge what it could entail.

The ground was a deeper brown, saturated by the warriors’ blood. Small red puddles were here and there. Ayah halted as her feet accidentally stomped on one in her haste to get to an injured man. She jerked back as if stung, her eyes widening as the dark red liquid seeped into the hem of her pants.

“Help me, please,” the man pleaded. He lay on his back, a deep gash running along his stomach. Ayah gagged as she saw something sticking out from the gaping wound. His guts.

With such an injury, there wasn’t much she could do for him. She gritted her teeth, rushing towards him.

Still…

She kneeled in front of him, and used her hands to try and stop the gushing blood, whispering apologies at his agonized screams. She grimaced as she thought of the dirt that must be coating her hands, but the thought was soon dismissed when another wave of blood passed through her fingers, soaking the brown uniform under his armor.

“I don’t want to die.” The man took hold of Ayah’s wrist, his grip loose and weak. Ayah didn’t shake him off, couldn’t, not when tears streamed down his face merging with the blood that had spilled from his mouth.

“My daughter… my daughter…” he kept repeating, his eyes switching in and out of focus.  “Please tell my daughter…” he trailed off. A cough shook his trembling body, and fresh blood escaped through Ayah’s fingers with the motion.

He won’t last long.

“Is there any healer here?” she yelled, not taking her eyes off the dying man.

“There is,” a man hissed. “But he refuses to help anyone besides his countrymen.”

“I’m not that strong! I’ve already exhausted all my mana,” the healer complained. A tall and thin man wearing the rich green uniform of the Midar kingdom. He clutched his staff, glaring at the man that had ousted him.

“Then use mana stones,” another warrior, a woman wearing the yellow colors of Yaich yelled.

The healer turned to her, his frown deepening. “We don’t have any.”

They glared at each other. If looks could kill, the monsters wouldn’t have to bother themselves and just sit and wait.

Ayah knew the man was lying. Everyone did. Skirting at the edge of the forest were low level monsters that the weakest of them would be able to handle alone. They just didn’t want to relinquish their stones− The proof that they had slain a monster for the competition. For once a mana stone drained from its power it would simply crumble to dust. As if it never existed.

Ayah waited, yet none offered to help. Even the fallen men’s teammates, distinguished by the same dark brown of their uniform, looked away, refusing to give even one single stone for their comrade.

Ayah gritted her teeth. The anger inside her mounting with no sign of abating. Here was a man, choking around his last breath, yet they all prioritized their stupid competition over his life.

“If it’s mana stones you want, I’ll give them to you,” she snapped, her eyes boring at the healer. “So heal him.”

The man huffed, and twisted his lips into a scowl. He inched towards her, slowly, much too slow for Ayah’s liking, and frowned down at the man.

“He’s much too gone, even I can’t help him.” He shrugged.

“I told you,” Ayah started, her voice rising with her anger, now harder to control. “If it’s about mana stones−”

The healer clicked his tongue in annoyance. “You’ll need more than one stone to save him.”

Ayah removed one hand from the wound, wincing at the sticky feeling clinging to her fingers. She moved to call upon her inventory, then stilled.

Ah, right. Harith was the one who collected them.

She glanced at him. He stood there, a couple feet away from her. At her pleading look, he gave a slight shake, his dark locks shifting over his face with the motion. He shot her an exasperated look, a deep sigh escaping his lips.

Shadows writhed by his feet as a bag bag slowly emerged. Gasps reverberated around, with the distinct sounds of swords straining against tight grasps.

He took a couple of mana stones and threw them in the air towards the healer who had taken a couple steps back from Ayah− and consequently away from Harith.

“Heal Them,” Harith commanded.

Normally ayah would have admonished him for his tone. These were soldiers from a foreign kingdom, he couldn’t just order them around like he liked. But when she saw the healer bow profusely, his face awash with horror, and scramble towards the wounded man without a second complaint, she decided to just let it go.

Sometimes, his arrogance has got its uses.

It took him a while, but eventually all the wounded were healed. As for the ones who had already died before Ayah and Harith’s arrival, they were buried to prevent monsters from tearing into their corpses. Ayah had asked for them to be carried outside the forest and returned to their families, but such a thing was deemed impossible.

Traveling with corpses that smelt of death would attract other monsters.

Ayah scattered a couple flowers at the shallow graves that hosted more than ten people. Whispering an apology at not being faster and stronger, at not being able to even send their corpses to their loved ones.

They might have been simple characters on a piece of paper once, but now, after seeing their mutilated corpses and helping bury them, it was all feeling too real to her.

The deaths that she used to ignore after a couple sentences were now as tangible as the torn crests she had collected from their shredded uniforms.

Ayah whispered to the system to store the pieces of cloth, vowing to try and send them back to their families once out of here.

“We need to leave,” Harith said. “The stench of blood is much too overwhelming. I can already sense monsters heading here.”

Ayah sighed. Her body was aching, and all she wanted was to get her sweet lost hours of sleep back.

“Gather whatever is crucial and leave,” Harith announced to the others.

One of the nine survivors, a warrior from Midar− an archipelago of islands grouping together under one kingdom− stepped forward, and stopped in front of Harith. His act of bravery didn’t last. With a single questioning glance from Harith, the man jerked back, a slight tremor running along the hand clutching his sword.

“We− we can’t leave now.” his voice trembled as he spoke. “We need to gather the mana stones we have earned from the monsters.” he motioned with a quivering finger towards a pile of small monsters. Some of them had their mana stones already removed.

“Suit yourself.” Harith leveled the man with a cool gaze. He turned to the others, glancing at each one of them. “At least 15 monsters are closing in on us. Soon, you’ll be surrounded. If you value those stones more than your life, you are welcome to stay.” 

Horrified gasps echoed, followed by murmurs as the warriors argued between themselves about what to do.

Harith turned to Ayah. “We’re leaving. Our presence here is no longer required,” he added when she opened her mouth to speak.

She paused. True, she couldn’t force anyone to do something they didn’t want. It was up to them to leave or not. Though it was atrocious how they still regarded winning in the competition more important than their own lives.

She nodded.

Not a couple steps taken and voices called after them. 

The remaining survivors were bowing deeply, some more than others.

“Your highness, please allow us to accompany you. We beg you to have mercy on us,” they pleaded, their shoulders trembling and their bow deepening at his lack of response.

Ayah frowned. She truly wasn’t made for this. How many times had she forgotten that Harith was the regent of his kingdom− temporarily stripped of the title, but they both knew it was the only way for him to participate in the competition. So… still king regent.

But to be fair, Ayah had never seen royalty before. And when it came to Harith, beneath all the armor, the stern looks and the extraordinary powers, was what Ayah dared to think was… an ordinary grumpy young man.

Her frown deepened. Should she start calling him your highness too?

No way…

Right?

Harith opened his mouth to answer them, then paused. He glanced at Ayah. She glanced back at him, an eyebrow raised in question.

He sighed. “Fine.” He gave them a stern look. “But don’t slow us down or we’ll leave you behind.”

Ayah narrowed her eyes at him. Should she start now?

“Lead the way, your highness.” She gave him a sloppy salute.

The displeased frown he shot her made her hold her hands up in a placating manner. She clapped him on his shoulder, snorting.

“Fine. I’ll do it. Pray I don’t lead you straight towards a monster’s deen.” She took a step in a random direction.

“That’s exactly what you’re doing.” He rolled his eyes in exasperation.

 

He led them through the forest, halting for a moment, then resuming his trek in some other direction. They kept at it for a while, then he stopped, tilting his head. 

“Do you hear anything?” Ayah whispered, dreading his answer. Was it the monsters?

After a moment, he answered. “Running water,” he said.

The closer they got, the more distinct the sound of water became, until a shallow slope dropped away from the tree line to reveal a huge lake. The trees stood on the edge of the lake, anchored to the shore with thick roots that reached into the water like fingers. 

“We’ll be staying here for the night. But we’ll depart at first light tomorrow,” Harith announced. 

Hushed protests reverberated around the small group. Complaints of exhaustion, sleeplessness and a desire to avoid any monsters for as long as they could hovered in the air.

Harith ignored them and sat on an upturned trunk, half facing the forest. Ayah wondered how he could approach trees so nonchalantly after what happened. She didn't feel like laying her eyes on one for the foreseeable future.

One of the warriors was sitting on the floor, curling around himself. His eyes kept glanced fretfully in all directions, fearful.

Ayah didn’t understand why someone so afraid of the forest decided to participate in the competition. He startled at the slightest sounds and trembled at the faintest shadow from a passing cloud. The competition lasted a whole week, but it wasn’t forbidden to withdraw any time till the last minute before the horns declared the end of the hunt. He could just leave tomorrow at first light, and no one would look down on him for it. He had lasted till the next day when others couldn’t.

He jerked away, his head swirling around to stare at a small passing badger. The animal startled. It tilted its head to the side, glancing at the frightened man for a moment before scurrying away.

“If you want, you can go back to the gate,” Ayah suggested. “It remains open the whole time.”

The man glanced at her, then away. “You think I wouldn’t have if I could? I didn’t come here because I wanted to.” He held his head in his hands, hunching further over himself. “I wouldn’t be here if I could.” He whimpered.

“You didn’t?” She blinked at him, confused.

“We’re not monsters,” he hissed, his eyes turning towards Harith as he spat the word monsters. “We didn’t come here willingly.”

Ayah bristled. This man… the same man who had his guts hanging out his stomach, who wouldn’t have survived if Harith hadn’t forced the healer to treat him… here he was badmouthing his savior. She fisted her hand and punched him in the face, hard. The man yelped. He fixed her with a betrayed expression, as if he had thought they were on the same wavelength, that they agreed on some unspoken truth.

Eyes turned towards them, observing. Hands stilled and heads turned, their little talk attracting the others’ attention. Hushed whispers sounded before a calm voice put a stop to them.

“What’s wrong?” Harith asked, stopping whatever he was doing and joining them.

The man sent her a fearful glance, begging her to keep what he said a secret.

Ayah fixed him with a glare, and he swallowed thickly.

“Nothing,” she said.

With a final glare at the man, she pulled at Harith’s arm, stearing him away towards his self-appointed seat. She sat next to him and looked out towards the shifting darkness despite knowing that, without the system’s help, there was no way for her to notice the monsters’ presence.

If Harith heard what the ruckus was about, he didn’t say.

They sat quietly, waiting for morning to come.

 

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Author’s note:

A quick and short chapter :D 

Like the title said, the calm before everything went horribly wrong.

Thanks for reading! :)

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