In the heart of the dense forest, under the soft glow of the moonlight, Ren stood poised, arms crossed, an air of accomplishment about him. casting a satisfied gaze over his handiwork from the past few hours. Maelor and Jaevin were buried vertically, their unconscious heads the only parts exposed to the air.
[You know, leaving them merely unconscious on the ground might've been kinder,] Clada, in his ethereal form, remarked with a shake of his head. [At least they could move if danger approached.]
Brushing dirt and dust from his clothes, Ren responded, [We can't risk them becoming a threat again, especially considering the condition of our leg.]
Clada couldn't help but smile, catching Ren's underlying concern. He knew Ren feared he might suggest a more permanent solution to their potential problems. Clada had always been one to avoid leaving loose ends, a lesson learned the hard way. And while Ren's burying approach might be unorthodox, they both understood that should the need arise, neither would hesitate to kill. The sole reason Maelor and Jaevin were still breathing was their non-lethal intent earlier.
[And don't worry, I'll cover their heads with some leaves. I'd still like to sleep soundly at night,] Ren commented, gathering leaves from the ground. Meanwhile, Clada busied himself inspecting the items they'd confiscated, leaving their captives in just their clothing.
Scattered before him were four distinct daggers, with two appearing to be a matching pair. Additionally, there was a baselard sword. Apart from a flask of water and a fire-starting kit, they found pills in three distinct colors: brown and blue, of which they had just a few, and a larger quantity of green ones.
Laid out beside the weapons and pills were three small books, two seemingly journals, and a pair of badges.
Clada visually inspected the weapons, genuinely impressed by their craftsmanship. In comparison, their own bone daggers felt as if they had been made with feet.
Clada shifted his attention to the badges, made of an unfamiliar metal. On one, the name "Maelor Larken" stood out. Beneath it was the label 'Soulforge', and to its right, two stars. The emblem of the Nightsteel Academy was prominently displayed. The other badge was similar, with the name "Jaevin Atrin" inscribed and three stars beside it.
Clada recognized the script and language the badges were written in; it matched the title of one of the books, "The Theory of Cores - Beginner Stages." It was the same language he could speak and write. However, he couldn't decipher the journals. He was aware of the world's linguistic diversity, but this was his first encounter with an unfamiliar script.
Noticing Clada's keen interest in the items, Ren remarked, [Do you want to take over and get a better look?]
Clada shook his head slightly, [The switch can be draining, especially after what we just did. But while you're at the helm, maybe give those pills a whiff? after all this time your senses should pick up on the herbs.]
Ren gave a half-smile, [I'll give it a shot, but don't expect me to be the herb nerd you are.]
Ren reached for a pouch filled with green pills and took a moment to inhale its scent. [Smells familiar, like the herbs we use when we need to stay awake through the night.]
[A stamina pill?] Clada speculated. [How about the blue one?]
Drawing one from the batch, Ren sniffed it once, then twice. His brow furrowed in concentration. [This one's tricky. Could be a drug, poison, or even an antidote, I'm not sure.]
Clada pointed to the pouch with brown pills, prompting Ren to continue. Without hesitation, Ren brought one to his nose. After several moments of thoughtful inhalation, he shook his head in defeat. [I'm drawing a blank here. Doesn't match any of the herbs you typically work with.]
Clada smiled gently. [It's fine. It just means the vast lands have even more for us to discover. Given how that fellow wanted to give it to his injured companion, we'll assume it's some sort of healing pill for now.]
Clada cast a glance towards the moon, then turned to Ren. [Take the shortsword and one of those daggers. Oh, and a few of those pills. We'll hide the rest. It's time to prepare.]
At that, a helpless smile crept onto Ren's face.
***
In a spot on the island all too familiar to Clada and Ren, a figure emerged beside their tree house. He approached it, each footstep blending seamlessly with the forest's whispers.
With a graceful leap, he landed on the tree branch adjacent to the house's entrance. "They say, Show me your garden and I shall tell you what you are… This isn't a garden, but it'll do." the man whispered to himself before stepping inside.
The house, which was usually bathed in light during the day, was now enveloped in darkness. The figure navigated effortlessly within, not needing any light. As he inspected each corner, his steps led him to the weapon display. There, he paused. Picking up one of the bone daggers, he scoffed, "Such a crude piece of work." noting the dried residue on its blade, he added, "Still, they seem to make the most of what they have."
Setting the dagger aside, he continued his exploration. Reaching Clada's herb preparation table, he paused to sniff around. Discovering a flask beneath the table, he grinned broadly, remarking, "Ah, see you guys are men of taste," He uncapped the flask and took a generous swig, letting out a contented sigh. "Decent brew, though it tastes a bit like leather." He took another sip. and with a smile, he said, "I've seen your garden, and I've made up my mind."
***
[I have to admit,] Ren began as he tightened a vine around a tree trunk, creating a tripwire trap, [this feels a bit like cheating.] His gaze roamed the area where he had set up various little traps: pitfalls, slippery spots, whip traps, all strategically positioned near the two buried guys.
[We're just evening the field here,] Clada responded from a nearby spot. [They've got numbers on us, and I wouldn't be surprised if that woman is even stronger than these two. I'm not taking chances. If we're bound to face them, it might as well be on our terms.] He took a moment before adding, [Besides, these will only serve as distractions so we wouldn't have to use that power again, We've left our tracks deliberately. They'll trace us here without a problem. But if they're wise, they'll wait for dawn. So, for now, take a perch in a tree. I've got the watch.]
Ren climbed a tree and settled into a comfortable spot. just as he closed his eyes, his breathing almost immediately became so subtle that it was barely discernible.
All the while, Clada vigilantly monitored the surroundings. They both knew that as their shared body rested, they'd both feel invigorated.
Time drifted by with only the gentle whispers of the forest night as company. But then, without any discernible sign, both Clada and Ren tensed up. They hadn't seen or heard anything, but a palpable sense of imminent danger was unmistakable.
[REN!] Clada called out in alarm. But Ren was already in motion, pushing off with his leg to help the gravity in his descent. Almost instantaneously, the tree trunk was sheared cleanly at the exact spot Ren had been, as if sliced by an unseen razor.
Had he hesitated even a fraction of a second, he would've been cut in half.
Staring at the collapsing tree, fear anchored the twins in place, too stunned to even think of fleeing.
They remained oblivious to the blood dripping from their right shoulder.
From between the trees to their left, two figures approached them. Their footsteps were silent amidst the cacophony of the tumbling tree and the small creatures scampering away in fright.
Evading the twins' little traps, the two individuals soon stood directly in front of them.
Liora, followed by Serin fixed Ren with a gaze filled with loathing before asking, "Have you killed them?"