The forest was quiet, with only the soft crackle of the fire breaking the silence. Shadows from the flames danced across the trees, creating eerie shapes in the darkness. Hayyan sat by the fire, his back against a rough tree trunk, keeping a careful watch on Amy's still form. He was exhausted but couldn't afford to let his guard down. The knights might not be searching this deep into the woods yet, but he couldn't be too careful.
Amy stirred, her fingers twitching as consciousness slowly returned to her. Her eyes fluttered open, and she sat up with a start, her gaze darting around wildly, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. The memories of the pyre, the terror, and the suffocating heat came rushing back, and she shivered, clutching her arms around herself.
She caught sight of the glowing embers of the campfire, and her eyes fixed on the silhouette of a figure sitting across from her, barely illuminated by the flickering light. Panic flared in her chest, and she pressed herself back against the tree behind her, her voice barely more than a whisper as she asked, "Who...?"
Hayyan turned toward her, his features becoming clearer in the firelight. He lifted a hand in a calming gesture and spoke gently, "It's me, Hayyan. Remember me?"
Amy blinked, the haze of fear slowly giving way to recognition. Her breathing steadied as she took in his face, recalling the man who had delivered the parcel to her mother just days before. But now, everything was different. Why was he here? What had happened? Her mind raced with questions, each one more overwhelming than the last.
Hayyan glanced around the shadowed woods, then turned his attention back to her. "I saved you, Amy," he said, his tone serious. "They were going to burn you alive... but I couldn't let that happen. I... I used magic to get you out of there. I'm a wizard. Just like you."
Amy froze, the words hitting her like a physical blow. She stared at him, wide-eyed, trying to process what he was saying. Wizard? Magic? Her thoughts tumbled over one another in confusion. Magic, Wizards, witches... What were just tales mothers tell to scare their children now became her new reality. But as she looked at Hayyan, his expression sincere and steady, the reality of the situation pressed down on her.
Her heart pounded in her chest, the memories of the flames surrounding her on the platform replaying in her mind. She remembered feeling the heat but not the pain, remembered the strange pull beneath her feet before everything went black. It all seemed impossible, and yet here she was, alive, far from the town square, with this stranger who spoke of saving her with magic.
Could it be true? she thought, her mind spinning. Is he really a wizard, like the stories say? Is he really the incarnation of devil? And what does that make me? She pressed her hands to her mouth to stifle a sob. Fear twisted inside her, a deep, gnawing terror of what might happen next. They called me a witch... my mother,she died because of me... Her chest tightened at the memory of her mother's panicked expression, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push the image away.
She had nowhere to go,as she remembered the guards knocking her mother down and the jeering wlooksprideful look of having killed the mother of a witch.
But beneath the fear, a small flicker of something else stirred. He saved me, she thought, looking at Hayyan again. But why, she questioned herself. When no one else would, he risked his life to pull me out of that fire. There was a gentleness in his eyes that she hadn't seen in since her powers awakened, a kindness that made her want to believe his words.
She took a shaky breath, letting the silence stretch between them as she tried to gather her thoughts.
In the end, she couldn't find the right words to express the confusion and fear swirling inside her. Instead, she simply said, her voice breaking, "Thank you."
It was a small, fragile sound, but it carried the weight of everything she couldn't say. Hayyan watched her, seeing the turmoil written across her face, and gave a small nod. He didn't push her to speak more, understanding that the world she thought she knew had just been turned upside down.
"You don't have to say anything more," he replied softly, turning his gaze back to the fire. "I know how this feels. Being hunted, being feared for what you are. I've been hiding for a long time too." He glanced back at her, a faint, sad smile tugging at his lips. "You're not alone anymore, Amy. Not as long as I'm here."
Amy hugged her knees to her chest, staring into the dancing flames. Her fear didn't vanish, but for the first time, a small sliver of hope slipped through the cracks. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance she wouldn't have to face this terrifying new reality alone.
Hayyan watched the flames dance in the fire pit, letting the silence settle between them. It was a heavy, somber silence, but he felt that Amy needed it—needed the time to process what had happened. After a while, he reached into a small pouch and pulled out a handful of dried berries he had gathered earlier. He offered them to her, his hand steady despite the churning emotions within him.
"Here," he said quietly. "You must be hungry."
Amy hesitated for a moment, then reached out with trembling fingers to take the berries. She nibbled at them slowly, her eyes still glassy with unshed tears. Hayyan watched her closely, seeing the exhaustion and sorrow that weighed heavily on her small shoulders. He wasn't sure what to say to comfort her—if there was anything that could truly ease the pain she was feeling.
After a few minutes, he cleared his throat, his voice uncertain. "Amy, your mother... did she—" He stopped, wondering if he should even bring it up, but the question slipped out before he could stop himself. "Did she... abandon you when she found out you were... different?" His words were hesitant, afraid of reopening wounds, but he needed to know.
Amy's grip on the berries tightened, her knuckles turning white. She squeezed her eyes shut, a shudder running through her small frame. When she spoke, her voice was brittle, like it might shatter at any moment. "No... She didn't leave me," she whispered, her words barely audible. "She tried to save me. We were... running away together, but... the knights... they—" Her voice caught in her throat, and she took a shuddering breath. "They killed her. Right in front of me, while she begged them to let me go."
Hayyan felt a cold shock run through him at her words, his mouth going dry. He hadn't expected this. He had thought perhaps Amy's mother had turned her in, that she had feared her own daughter's powers. But instead, it was the opposite—her mother had tried to protect her, and the knights had shown no mercy. He clenched his fists, the firelight casting harsh shadows on his face as anger boiled inside him.
This is what they call justice? he thought bitterly, a sharp edge to his thoughts. This is what those knights stand for? He had always known, deep down, that the world wasn't kind to people like him, but hearing Amy's story made the reality of it hit harder than ever. It was one thing to hide and fear being discovered; it was another to see the consequences play out in such a brutal, senseless way.
He glanced at Amy, who sat huddled close to the fire, her face streaked with dried tears. The thought of her watching her mother die, feeling utterly helpless, made something tighten painfully in his chest. She's just a child... he thought, feeling a wave of protectiveness wash over him. She didn't deserve this.
Hayyan took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside him. He couldn't afford to dwell on his anger now—not when Amy needed him. He reached out slowly, placing a hand on her shoulder. She flinched at the touch but didn't pull away.
"I'm... sorry, Amy," he said, his voice rough with the weight of his own emotions. "I can't change what happened, but I promise I won't let them hurt you again. Not as long as I'm here." He tried to offer her a reassuring smile, but it felt more like a grimace.
Amy looked up at him, her eyes red-rimmed and filled with a hollow sadness that no child should have to carry. For a moment, she said nothing, just held his gaze as if searching for something in his expression. Then, she nodded slowly, a tiny spark of trust flickering in her eyes. It was a fragile thing, like a candle flame in a storm, but it was there.
"Thank you," she whispered again, her voice barely more than a breath. The words seemed to carry a bit more weight this time, as if she was beginning to believe in the promise he had made.
Hayyan gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before releasing her, letting the quiet settle around them once more. He knew that the road ahead would be difficult, but for the first time, he felt like he had found a purpose in this strange, hostile world. And perhaps, in saving Amy, he could find a way to save himself too.