Amukelo and Eliss set off from Norton. Amukelo led the way, mounted on the same sturdy horse he'd left behind when he had first entered the town. Beside him, Eliss rode a sleek white mare.
As they passed through the west gate, leaving the stone walls of Norton behind, Amukelo couldn't help but notice the spark in Eliss's eyes. She was practically vibrating with anticipation, her gaze flickering over the landscape ahead, taking in every detail with a childlike wonder that he hadn't seen in her before. It was so apparent that he finally gave in and asked, breaking the steady rhythm of their ride.
"Why are you so excited?" he asked, his tone neutral.
Eliss turned to him, her face brightening even further at his question. "Because… this is it. I get to see the world as it really is—in all its raw and natural colors. Not from behind the walls of my family's estate or from the safety of familiar streets. Out here… everything feels real. It's unpredictable, dangerous… but it's alive."
Her voice softened as she added, almost to herself, "And besides, those walls didn't really keep me safe anyway."
Amukelo's expression grew thoughtful, his gaze turning toward the horizon, where the vast, open landscape stretched out before them.
"You know," he said, "this journey isn't going to be a walk in the park. It's not some fairytale adventure. It's going to be dangerous."
Eliss met his gaze, her eyes bright and unwavering, a touch of defiance in her expression. "We'll be fine," she said, her tone light, almost dismissive.
Amukelo sighed, shaking his head slightly, but he didn't argue. There was a certain naivety in her words, a confidence that bordered on recklessness, but he didn't see the point in crushing her spirit with warnings.
After a few moments, Eliss glanced over at him again. "By the way," she asked, "where exactly are we heading?"
"To the Orc Nation," Amukelo replied. "There's a place I need to visit there, near the border. A town."
Eliss tilted her head, looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. "Near the border? Why?"
For a brief moment, Amukelo considered telling her. But he pushed the thought aside. Ignoring her question, he nudged his horse forward, signaling an end to the conversation.
The days passed in a steady rhythm. The landscapes changed as they rode, moving from grassy fields to forests, the shadows of trees stretching across the road as the sun rose and fell each day.
Amukelo kept his mind focused on the journey, on the road ahead, rarely speaking unless necessary. But Eliss began to notice something peculiar about him. She had expected him to be constantly training, pushing his limits, just like he did when they escorted those girls.
But he didn't train. Not once. Each night, as she practiced her magic, she would glance over at him, expecting to see him sharpening his skills, honing his reflexes. But instead, he would sit quietly. Sometimes he'd sit for hours, staring into the fire lost in thoughts.
Finally, one evening as they were sitting by the fire, she couldn't help but ask.
"Amukelo," she began, "why aren't you training? Are you… still injured?"
Amukelo glanced at her with surprise, as he hadn't expected her to notice, or to care. He looked away, his jaw tightening slightly. "No," he replied shortly. "I'm fine."
Eliss hesitated, "Then… why not train? Isn't that what you do?"
Amukelo let out a bitter chuckle, a sound devoid of humor, his gaze fixed on the flames. "What's the point?" he muttered, his voice heavy. "What's the point of any of it?"
Eliss blinked, taken aback by the emptiness in his words, by the resignation that colored his voice. She opened her mouth to speak, to question him, but he continued almost as if he was speaking to himself.
"Life… it's worthless," he said, his tone hollow. "It can be taken away just like that, in a heartbeat. People… they're here one moment, and then they're gone. No amount of training, no amount of strength, will bring back the people I've lost."
His gaze remained fixed on the fire. Eliss felt a pang of sympathy, of sadness, as she watched him, realizing for the first time just how deeply the loss weighed on him. She had known he was scarred, that he carried a heavy burden, but she hadn't understood the depth of his despair, the emptiness in him.
She wanted to say something to assure him that life was worth living, that there was still hope. But the words felt hollow, and she found herself at a loss, unsure of how to say it.
Amukelo's shoulders slumped, his expression darkening as he let out a long, weary sigh. Without another word, he stood up, brushing off his hands as he turned toward his bedroll. "Goodnight," he murmured.
Eliss watched him as he lay down, turning his back to the fire. She sat in silence, she had never seen someone else so defeated.
As the night wore on, she continued her training, her mind lingering on Amukelo's words.
The days passed as Amukelo and Eliss continued their journey. The landscapes shifted as they rode, and with each new view, Eliss's eyes would light up with a quiet wonder, her gaze lingering on the open skies, or the distant mountains.
Amukelo, on the other hand, was distant. He rode in silence, looking at the road ahead, rarely glancing at the scenery that held Eliss's attention. Despite her attempts to engage him in conversation, he would respond only with brief, curt answers.
Each night, they would set up camp, sharing simple meals by the fire. Eliss would train. She'd glance at Amukelo now and then, hoping to see him practicing, but each night he would just sit by the fire.
One evening, as they were setting up camp, Amukelo went through his usual routine, preparing to settle down by the fire. Eliss decided to speak to Amukelo again.
"You know, Amukelo," she began, her voice soft but steady. "I was talking to my father before we left, and he told me something about you. About the conversation you two had."
Amukelo looked up, a faint shadow of curiosity in his eyes.
Eliss took a deep breath. "He said that he'd spoken to you about… God, about the possibility that maybe someone, or something, might help you cope with what you've been through. I'll be honest, Amukelo, I'm not really sure I believe in all that. I mean… I've never seen God. I don't really feel like I know him." She paused.
"But…" she continued, "even if there isn't some divine plan, even if there isn't some higher power guiding us, I still believe… that there might be something out there, or someone, who could help. Someone who could remind you of what it feels like to care, to… to hope."
Amukelo looked away, his gaze fixed on the fire as he spoke. "Hope?" he muttered, almost scoffing. "There's no one left to give me that. The people I cared about… they're gone. Dead. Do you really think that 'hope' will bring them back?"
Eliss felt a pang of sadness at his words, but she pressed on. "No," she admitted. "I know it won't bring them back. But… do you think that if you found someone like them, someone who could become that important to you, it would still be meaningless?"
Amukelo's expression flickered with a brief hint of vulnerability. But he shook his head, his tone bitter. "I won't find anyone like them. Everyone I cared about is dead. There's no one else."
Eliss met his gaze. "Thinking like that, you'll make sure you never do," she replied. "If you close yourself off, if you decide that no one else could ever matter, then, yes, you'll be right. You'll never find anyone. But… is that really what you want?"
Amukelo hesitated, her words striking a nerve. He turned his gaze back to the fire. After a long pause, he muttered, "Leave me alone, Eliss."
Without another word, he rose, walking over to his bedroll and lying down with his back to the fire, effectively ending the conversation. Eliss watched him in silence, a sigh escaping her as she looked down at her hands, feeling a mixture of frustration and sadness. She hadn't expected him to open up, hadn't expected her words to change anything, but a part of her had hoped that something she said might reach him.
The next morning, Eliss woke to an unexpected sight. Amukelo was already awake, training his sword style. She watched, wide-eyed, a faint smile spreading across her face as she took in the sight.
She rose quietly, approaching him with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. "I thought you said it was meaningless?" she called out, a hint of teasing in her tone.
Amukelo paused, his gaze flickering toward her, a faint, almost reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "It is," he replied, his tone dry. "But… as I thought about what you said… you're right. Sitting around, doing nothing, won't help in any way. Being lazy won't change anything."
Eliss's smile widened, her eyes lighting up with a quiet joy that she couldn't hide. "So… you decided to train?"
Amukelo shrugged, his gaze drifting back to his sword as he continued. "I still don't see much of a reason for it," he admitted. "But… I might as well. It's not like I have anything better to do."
Eliss watched him, her smile softening. She felt a sense of pride. For the first time in her life, she felt like she had truly helped someone. She couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face as she turned to prepare their morning meal.
Amukelo noticed her smile, a faint amusement flickering in his gaze as he watched her. There was something refreshing about her enthusiasm, her unguarded joy. She seemed genuinely happy, not for herself, but for him, as if his decision to train had brought her a sense of fulfillment.