Simon spotted another grassy area; it marked the end of the dark forest, with trees still lining the other side.
Since it wasn't yet dark, he decided to continue his journey. By the time he reached the forest's edge, the sun had already begun its descent, casting a warm glow over the landscape.
There were mountains on his left side, suggesting that the forest folks had indeed saved him time. Simon decided to rest for a while before proceeding to the village, but first, he needed to find a suitable spot. Unsure of the distance to the village of Ahas, he aimed to conserve his food supply.
He began to ascend the mountain, eventually finding a good spot with a tree growing alongside it. Grateful for the new cloak provided by the forest folks, Simon made a sling bed with it. Having some more dried meat, he chewed on it before settling down to sleep.
<--->
He awakens to the sound of horse hooves. Despite the darkness, he could clearly discern the figures approaching—it was knights on horseback. The old man had briefed him on the knights and their crests.
Knights typically displayed a coat of arms on their shields or cloaks. A shield emblem indicated affiliation with the Central continent, while those bearing Leaves belonged to the eastern continent. Meanwhile, a castle emblem signified association with the western continent.
Silently, Simon descended, finding a perch on a part of the cliff. Looking down, he confirmed the coat of arms displayed a shield—they were indeed from the central continent.
Curiously, the knights appeared to prefer resting in the spot directly below Simon.
<--->
The knights began setting up camps. “The village is close by, and the mountain provides good cover,” one of them remarked. “We need to rest before launching our attack at dawn,” the leader added.
“I sense that we're being watched,” another knight interjected. Having been a hunter before, he was keenly attuned to his surroundings.
“You're overthinking it... My father has promised us great rewards for this mission, and I'll ensure we all receive our share!” the leader proclaimed, attempting to inspire the knights.
<--->
Simon’s next actions were logical… if he let the knights raid the village then there might be a chance to lose all the trace of his birth if there is.
…
And back to the shadow of the morning light.
The knights were dumbfounded. There was no one left to command; their leader's neck cracked upon impact, and he never moved again. A few of the riders behind the leader heard the sound as they tried to calm themselves or survive, but a strange blade swung around, killing them.
Riders who were in the back had no idea what was happening. Some managed to stop their charge, but most fell as a traffic of horses clashed from front to back.
The next thing they heard were voices screaming and blood splattering through the force of the swings. There were thirty of them, enough for the raid on the village. Only their leader knew their objective. “Retreat! Fall back!” one screamed, while another shouted, “It's him! Kill him!” It was utter chaos.
<--->
They lost eight in the fall, including the leader. There were only a handful of men left. One, who was still sane from what he saw, had lost his right arm—it was an exchange for his neck. He sacrificed his arm to deflect a sword swing, and his bone did the trick. “Only thirteen of us?” he said. They were the elites of the elites back in the central. Being sent for this top-secret mission was the last thing on his mind. All of their magic users were on the front—and they were utterly annihilated.
It should have just been an inspection or a raid. He had once heard from the vice-captain that they were looking for a relic in the village.
“We should fall back. It'll take a few days at our best speed. Are you okay?” One of the knights, concerned for the knight with the amputated arm, asked. That knight immediately took a small knife and put it in his mouth by the handle; he needed it. Then another knight retrieved a clean bandage from his backpack. The bloody knight clenched his jaw on the knife, ready for the pain, as the other knight tied the cut, stopping the blood from pouring out.
“I will make it. Let us go!” The next port town is in the west.
<--->
The villagers were extremely happy. Slaying the knights like butter and cheese was how the villagers and warriors described the massacre. Some were literally afraid, but the hooded boy was very polite. He only asked for spices and some water to wash his bloodied clothes.
He was led by one of the villagers to one of the village's wells. The villagers started gathering around him, asking questions and such. Throughout his actions, his eyes were closed, making the villagers think that he was blind.
During his talk, he even started trading meat for fruits and vegetables.
The villagers who saw his sword were in awe. He cleaned it with a piece of cloth. After washing the bloodied cloak, he took out a new one and wore it. He hung the wet one on his sword and put it behind his back, effectively elevating it. It would dry under the sun, and his backpack was made of water-resistant material with patches of skins.
He approached one of the villagers, the same guy who had led him to the well, but he was quickly spoken to before he could even ask. Visitors and travelers were a rare occurrence in the village. “Why did you come here?” A common question for travelers who ventured to the far end of the frontiers.
“I'm looking for my mother... I was born here,” he said, hiding his eyes with his hood, only his mouth effectively visible. “You should meet the village doctors; they have all the records!” one of the villagers listening to their conversation said.
“I see... thank you.”
He started walking around the village, guided by a villager. The villagers began to speculate about the attack. It was really strange that a company of knights would attack a village on the far frontier.
<--->
The village founder and the village doctor arrived back in the village. The village founder's house was made of stone near a hill, with a secret path behind it leading a short distance into the hidden mountain. The village doctor thought that the founder had no shame.
The old lady noticed her gazing at her.
“Don't look at me like that... we all have a part to play... this is my part,” the old woman said, while she caressed something in her stomach pouch.
The villagers didn't even know they had left. They only noticed what was happening when they heard the warriors clamoring in a hurry. The village doctor exited Lady Zhisata's house nonchalantly. She looked around and proceeded to go home.
When she returned to her house, one of her students was waiting for her in front of the door, along with a hooded boy and some of the old patients sitting on the veranda. “Teacher, I would like to borrow the records... please!” she said.
She didn’t even ask where she went... Innocence is bliss, she thought. The door was already open, and some of the apprentices were already starting their work of making salves and potions.
The teacher smiled at her, and the two of them went inside. She was familiar with the patients already waiting for their daily dose of medicines and oils, but the visitor wasn’t sure what he needed.
The teacher signaled her student to follow her to the second floor where the records were.
“It's on the right shelf... you may take it,” their teacher said.
<--->
It was the only medical house in the village. It was old, having been passed down for generations, about three. The doctor lived on the second floor, and the disciples would go home after working for the day.
“I see... there were eleven of them,” the boy said in a sad tone. “I’m sorry, if only you give me a year, then this is all we can come up with from this record.” Eleven babies were born that year. Four of them were unsuccessful, with no details as to why the births failed. The record only contained the mother’s name and the baby's name if it was a successful birth.
“Then I will be leaving. I’ve got a place to stay for the night. Thank you.” The boy picked up his bag and weapon.
The disciple went to the second floor of the house to return the book of records.
The village doctor asked, “That boy... he was the one who slew the knights? What’s his name?” as she fixed the bottles by their labels.
“He didn’t mention his name... he said he was looking for his mother... that’s why I asked for the records... he came from the west, in the direction of the central,” the disciple replied.
“So who was it, the mother?”
“The records only had years and a few names. It was Theron's 32nd winter moon.”
She almost dropped one of the bottles... how could she have forgotten? “Where is he now?”
“He already left... he was pretty strong, even though he was still younger than me... he is weird,” the disciple said.
The student who returned the record smiled at her teacher and started leaving. She didn’t even notice her teacher’s distress. “His eyes... did you see it?” she said, stopping her student in her tracks. “No! The villagers too, said that he was blind, he never opened his eyes.”
Although there were 11 mothers, 7 lived and 4 died. It was a small chance that it was him... the baby she left at the mountain’s feet... 'She can’t know...' Lady Zhisata cannot know. She firmly said to herself…
<--->
The next day, the warriors in the village began pulling the remains of the knights. Only around 15 warriors were living in the village, along with the families, including the young ones aged between 15 and 52 years old.
If fully armored knights reached the village, there would probably be little to no resistance against them. They started burying the knights one by one, lighting a candle for the souls that passed—a tradition in the village. They actually let the remains stay for the night because their comrades might want to take them.
“Did you see the guy that did this?”
One of the warriors who was carrying out the burial started a conversation. “No... but they said he was trying to hide his identity,” it came from one of the villagers who were watching around the strange visitor. “Well, he saved us... I don’t really know their motives... but they clearly showed their intentions,” one of the warriors who was involved in the burial said, gesturing to the body he was pulling.
“I can feel the heat! I hate summer,” another warrior said, sweating profusely. Their village is surrounded by mountains and is usually cold, and the people in the village have quite a high sensitivity to heat. “Summer is coming, eh?” another warrior agreed with him.
