Two days before.
After Hayyan left, Amy, (daughter of the person to whom Hayyan gave the parcel) felt a surging feeling and released a gushing wind, whose center of origin was Amy.
Amy's mother, pale and trembling, could hardly contain her fear as she paced back and forth in their small home. Her hands wrung together, and her breath came in shallow gasps. She whispered to herself in disbelief, "My daughter... she's a witch... What will we do? If anyone finds out, they'll kill her. They'll kill us both..."
Amy, standing in the doorway of her mother's room, watched with wide, tear-filled eyes. She clutched the edge of her dress, her small hands shaking. "Mama... I didn't mean to... I-I don't know what happened... Please, don't be mad at me."
Her mother turned, her expression filled with both fear and pity as she looked at her only child. She tried to muster a reassuring smile but failed miserably. "Amy, darling, you need to understand... people will never accept what you are. They'll call you a monster, a demon... and they won't let you live." Her voice cracked as she tried to keep from breaking down in front of Amy.
Amy's face crumpled, and she fell to her knees, clutching her mother's skirt. "I don't want to be a witch! I just want to stay with you... Please, Mama, don't send me away."
Her mother knelt down and pulled Amy into a tight embrace, her own tears finally escaping as she held her daughter close. "I won't let them hurt you, Amy. I promise. But we have to leave... we have to leave tonight. It's the only way."
---
Before dawn, Amy and her mother packed what little they could carry. Amy clutched a small bundle of clothes to her chest, her face pale with worry. Her mother took a deep breath, forcing herself to be brave for Amy's sake, and led her out the back door into the misty early morning streets of Myth Town.
They kept to the shadows, slipping through the narrow alleys to avoid the patrols of the town guards. Amy kept glancing back at the house they were leaving behind, her heart aching with the realization that she might never see her home again.
Her mother squeezed her hand as if sensing her thoughts. "We'll find a new place, Amy. Somewhere far away where no one knows us... somewhere we can start over."
Amy nodded, though the lump in her throat made it hard to speak. She tried to believe her mother's words, but the dread gnawing at her wouldn't leave. As they turned a corner, the main gate of the town came into view. They quickened their pace, hope flickering like a fragile candle in the darkness.
But just as they neared the gate, they heard the heavy clanking of armor. A pair of knights stepped into their path, blocking their way. The dawn light glinted off their helmets as they leveled stern gazes at Amy and her mother.
"Where do you think you're going at this hour?" one of the knights demanded, his voice rough and suspicious. He glanced between the mother and daughter, narrowing his eyes.
Amy's mother froze, clutching her daughter tightly. "W-We... we were just going to visit a relative in the next village. Myd he's very ill."
The second knight took a step forward, looking Amy up and down. He noticed the bundle in her hands, the fear in her eyes. His expression hardened. "We've received reports of suspicious activity. Some claim there's a witch in this town. And you two... you seem awfully eager to leave in a hurry."
Amy's mother paled, her grip on Amy's hand tightening until it hurt. "Please, sir, we mean no harm. We are innocent, I swear it!"
But the knights exchanged a knowing look, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords. "You're not going anywhere until we confirm it," the first knight said, his tone leaving no room for argument. He reached out, grabbing Amy's arm roughly.
Amy yelped, fear flooding her veins as she struggled against his grip. "Mama, help me!" she cried, her voice high and desperate.
Her mother lunged forward, trying to pull her daughter free. "Let her go! She's just a child!" But the knights easily overpowered her, shoving her back.
As Amy's panic grew, she felt the strange energy surging within her, the same power that had caused the wind to fill their house. Before she knew it, a burst of wind lashed out, knocking the knights back a step. The force wasn't strong enough to harm them, but it was enough to make them realize that the rumors were true.
"She's a witch!" one of the knights shouted, regaining his balance and drawing his sword. "Seize her!"
Amy's mother's face twisted with terror as she threw herself between the knights and her daughter but was knocked down.
Hayyan's POV -:-
Hayyan wandered through the bustling streets of Myth Town, soaking in the sights and sounds of the place. He was still new to the town, with its cobblestone roads and tightly packed houses that leaned together like conspirators. The air was filled with the mingling scents of fresh bread and the sweat of laborers, but today, something else hung in the atmosphere—an unusual tension, like the collective breath of the town was being held.
A crowd had gathered near the town square, and their voices rose in a dissonant chorus. Curious, Hayyan made his way toward the commotion, his hood pulled low over his face to avoid drawing attention. As he pushed his way to the front of the throng, he caught a glimpse of the scene unfolding on the raised wooden platform.
There, bound in rough ropes with her head hanging low, was Amy, the girl he had delivered a parcel to only days before. Her hair was matted with dirt, and her small frame shook with silent sobs. Hayyan's heart clenched at the sight. He couldn't mistake her face, nor the fear in her eyes as she was paraded before the townspeople.
"Witch!" a man shouted, his voice filled with hatred. "Burn the devil's spawn! Purge her evil from our land!"
Hayyan's blood ran cold as he heard the townspeople's cries for Amy's death. His mind raced as he took in the sight of the pyre being assembled beneath her feet. Hayyan couldn't stand it—he wouldn't. He could feel the panic rising in his chest as he backed away from the crowd, desperately trying to think of a way to save her. He ducked into a nearby alley, where he tried to steady his breath and gather his thoughts.
"Think, think... I have to do something before they light the fire," he muttered to himself, pressing his back against the cool stone wall. He focused, running through the extent of his abilities—wind, earth, water, fire. His control over fire was rough, but if he could manipulate it just enough... And then, a plan formed in his mind. It was risky, dangerous even, but it was the only chance he had.
---
At midday, the sun burned brightly overhead as the townspeople gathered to watch the execution. The platform creaked under the weight of the pyre, the dry wood stacked beneath Amy's feet. Hayyan watched from the shadows of a nearby building, his hood casting a deep shadow over his face. He could see Amy's terrified expression, her lips moving in silent pleas as the executioner stepped forward with a torch in hand.
As the torch was brought closer to the pyre, Hayyan took a deep breath, summoning his concentration. He extended his senses, feeling the warmth of the fire, the crackling energy that danced at the edge of his awareness. With a deep, focused exhale, he reached out with his magic, intertwining his will with the flames.
The torch touched the wood, and the pyre roared to life. Flames leaped up, but Hayyan gritted his teeth and tightened his hold on the heat, forcing it back. He directed the fire's warmth away from Amy's fragile body, allowing it to lick harmlessly around her. From the crowd's perspective, the flames seemed to envelop her, but in truth, they did little more than cast shadows against her trembling form.
Sweat beaded on Hayyan's forehead as he struggled to maintain control. His heart pounded in his ears, and he felt a painful strain building within him, but he pushed through. With his other hand, he reached for the earth beneath the platform, molding it with his will. He had mads a tunnel during the little time he had before starting of Amy's Execution, shaping it just beneath the wooden planks, digging a passageway that stretched from the square's edge to a hidden spot beyond the town walls.
As the heat warped the air, Amy slumped forward, unconscious from the ordeal. Hayyan seized the moment, using his magic to create an illusion of her collapsing into the flames. He quickly replaced her with a straw-filled bag he had prepared earlier, the figure catching fire with a satisfying crackle. The crowd cheered as the figure began to burn, oblivious to the fact that the real Amy was no longer in their sight.
Beneath the cover of the roaring flames, Hayyan reached through the tunnel with wind magic, guiding Amy's unconscious body through the narrow passageway. His hands trembled with effort as he focused on pulling her along, inch by inch, until they reached the shadowed edge of the town, far from the prying eyes of the townsfolk.
---
Outside the town walls, hidden in the thick cover of the forest, Hayyan crouched over Amy's still form. Her face was pale, streaked with soot and dirt, but she was breathing. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, relieved to feel the warmth of her skin.
He leaned back, panting heavily, and wiped the sweat from his brow. The exertion had drained him, leaving him lightheaded and aching, but he couldn't stop now. He gathered Amy into his arms, cradling her as carefully as he could. The forest loomed dark and foreboding around them, but it was safer than the town.
"I couldn't just leave her," he whispered to himself, his voice barely more than a breath in the dense undergrowth. He glanced down at Amy's peaceful face, feeling a surge of determination swell within him. "You're not alone anymore, Amy. I'll make sure of that."
With each step, he carried her further into the unknown, knowing that they were both now fugitives in a world that would never accept them. But as he walked through the darkening forest, he couldn't shake the sense that this chance meeting with Amy would change everything, for both of them.