**RAYAN'S POV**
For the first time in a really long time, I messed up that night. I didn't manage to slaughter everyone; there was still someone who saw me. Thankfully, they didn't see my face, but the description they gave out was fairly decent hence making me revert back to my mercenary outfit. The dark order had been following the trail I left behind, and now, with the description, they believed that they were on the right path and the mercenaries followed them hoping to find the girl without any of the work they reminded me of how vultures would leech off a wolf's hunt.
I would say it was annoying, but it took my mind away from Chloe. That look in her eyes—fear, anger, and helplessness—it was a look I never wanted to see on a child ever again. I punched the nearest tree so hard that some skin tore from my knuckles. "Stop it, Reyan. Stop being emotional," I scolded myself. Emotions show vulnerability, vulnerability shows weakness, and weakness is exploited. I repeated this chant four more times until it sank in. Right now, the grim reaper's assistant was needed, not this weak bastard. I adjusted my mask and unsheathed one scimitar, burying every speck of emotion I had.
I leaped from the branch I was standing on to the nearest tree. The forest had always been my second home. This place taught me how to survive; it fed me and gave me shelter when I needed it. The scent of damp earth and decaying leaves filled the air as I moved, my senses attuned to every rustle and crackle. The evening sun filtered through the canopy, casting eerie shadows on the forest floor.
The chorus of crickets begun filling the air, their rhythmic chirping blending with the soft hush of the wind through the leaves. The forest seemed alive, teeming with unseen creatures. In the distance, a stream murmured, adding its melody to the evening symphony.
A group of deer grazed peacefully in the clearing, their gentle munching punctuated by the occasional snap of twigs. Hunger gnawed at my stomach; it had been two days since I last ate. I sheathed the scimitar in my hand and silently drew my bow, feeling the familiar weight and smooth texture of the wood against my fingers. My feet barely made a sound as I crept closer, the forest floor yielding beneath my cautious steps.
The scent of damp moss mingled with the earthy fragrance of the deer, creating a distinct musk that hung in the air. Leaves brushed against my skin, tickling and alerting me to my surroundings. I focused my gaze on the deer that had caught my eye, drawing the arrow back with practiced precision. Time seemed to slow as I released the bowstring, the arrow slicing through the air, guided by instinct.
In an instant, the tranquil scene erupted into chaos. The startled deer scattered, their hooves pounding against the forest floor, blending with the thumping of my heart. But one deer had succumbed to my arrow, running only a short distance before collapsing onto the ground.
I watched the crackling fire as it roasted my meal, mesmerized by the dancing flames that painted the surroundings with flickering hues of orange and gold. The scent of charred wood mingled with the mouthwatering aroma of cooked venison, teasing my nostrils and sending waves of hunger through me. As the meat sizzled over the crackling embers, the delicious aroma grew stronger, permeating the air and making my stomach growl in anticipation. The warmth of the fire kissed my face, providing a comforting contrast to the cool night air.
'Finish him,' a memory that I suppressed for years suddenly resurfaced.
"Damn you, Chloe!" I muttered through gritted teeth, frustration seeping into my voice. I didn't need these memories surfacing now, threatening to unravel the carefully constructed armor around my mind. I desperately cut a piece from the deer's leg, hoping that the taste of the meat would distract me from the haunting echoes of the past. With my mask pulled down, I savored the bite, allowing the flavors to consume my senses and momentarily silence the relentless whispers of those memories.
"No, stop," I pleaded with myself, my voice barely above a whisper. The memories clawed their way back into my consciousness, unrelenting and suffocating. The weight of it boring down on me, squeezing my chest, as if trying to crush the very breath from my lungs. I dropped to my knees, desperation washing over me, and clutched my ears, as though by shutting out the world, I could silence the torment within.
"'Ray, we'll play a game, don't make a sound no matter what, and you'll get a present,'" the haunting voice echoed in my mind, its sinister melody wrapping around my thoughts. I shook my head vigorously, trying to dispel the memories, but they persisted, creeping into every corner of my being.
" don't make a sound..... "
"No, stop it!" I cried out, the anguish in my voice intertwining with the thuds of my pounding head against the forest floor. The physical pain provided a temporary respite, momentarily diverting my focus from the torment of the past. Each impact jolted me, bringing a momentary clarity that allowed me to escape the clutches of those haunting memories. Like he always used to say pain is a versatile tool it can yield numerous results if used correctly can't believe that all it took was a child who barely reached my hips to make the past memories to resurface.
Blood seeped out from my forehead, tracing a crimson path down my face, but this pain was a welcomed distraction, a tangible proof of existence that eclipsed the torment of the memories. I couldn't recall how long I had succumbed to this desperate ritual, each impact a resolute act of defiance against the haunting echoes of the past. Time seemed to blur, blending with the darkness that enveloped my mind. The thudding echoing through the trees, If a predator came it would have had the easiest meal of its life not to mention my pursuers but the gods had favored me that no such thing occured
Finally, as the night wore on, exhaustion wrestled me into an uneasy slumber. The relentless pounding of my head yielded to the silent embrace of dreams, or perhaps nightmares. But the rays of the rising sun, like fiery tendrils, pierced through my eyelids, rudely yanking me from my troubled respite. I groaned, feeling the searing heat burn my face, a stark contrast to the frigid calm that had cloaked the night.
"fuck you Chloe," I whispered to myself.
I cast my gaze upon the roasted deer, its once succulent meat now cold and neglected. The fire's dying embers acted as a reminder of what led to this, fire, I thought I had conquered it but was it all a lie. I had only devoured that meager piece earlier in the night, I didn't even manage to savor that tiny morsel, but it was a fleeting respite from the ever-present emptiness. I tried finding a river to wash off the blood on my forehead that had mixed with the dirt from the ground.
Finally, the sound of running water reached my ears, a melody of nature's cleansing chorus. I approached the riverbank with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. The sunlight danced upon the surface of the water, from the events that had unfolded last night I felt like my entire being needed a cleansing. I took off all my weapons and clothes and I dipped my body in the river as I scrubbed every part of my body.
I stayed in the water for a while. I saw my reflection in the water, the wound on my head wasn't deep enough to leave a scar by four to seven days my forehead would be back to normal. I ran my fingers through my hair combing them back as I got out of the water, I had nothing to dry myself with making me wear my clothes with the water still lingering on my body. I sat down as I crisscrossed my legs, I shut my eyes for a moment just focusing on the sounds of nature in my ear and the scent of the forest grass.
I opened my eyes now my focus renewed and my anger filled to the brim. Yes I needed this anger, this drive it always pushed me forward made me stronger, it made me who I am, I stood up dusted myself off and did my exercises before resuming on the task at hand. Misleading everyone who was following me and that royal girl. It's actually a good thing she's not here otherwise her blood would have dyed this river right now.