The journey to Cahzar was marked by silences and moments of reflection between Dinis and Irina. With each passing day, Irina became more aware of the weight the past seemed to hold over him. Dinis was an enigma, and although few words were exchanged, there was a silent communication between them, as if both knew they carried old and perhaps incurable wounds.
One night, as they rested around the campfire, Dinis, surprisingly, decided to open up a bit. Perhaps due to the growing trust he felt in Irina's presence, or maybe simply out of a need to relieve the burden of painful memories he had kept for so long. In a low voice, almost as if speaking to himself, he began to tell the story of the night he lost his parents.
"The attack came like a shadow over the village," he murmured, staring into the fire. "I was just a child... eight years old. My parents... well, they... didn't stand a chance." He paused, and Irina saw his fists clench, knuckles white under the tension. "My mother pushed me away so I could seek help. But I realized later that it was all just to give me a chance to live. They... knew they wouldn't survive."
Irina remained silent, feeling the almost palpable pain in his words. She could imagine the void that loss had left. "You were just a child," she whispered empathetically. "It must have been... terrible."
Dinis nodded, his gaze lost in the flames. "For a long time, I lived with the guilt. I thought that... if I had been stronger, if I had stayed, I might have made a difference. But I was just a child. From that night on, I lived only with the pain and the desire to avenge what happened. And over time, that became all I knew."
Irina listened attentively, understanding more about the Sentinel beside her. In a moment of gentleness, perhaps in an attempt to lighten the burden he carried, she asked him with a slight smile, "Have you never met someone special? A woman who made you think of something beyond vengeance and pain?"
Dinis remained silent, surprised by the question. He had never allowed himself to think of a future that included happiness or love. The life he knew was made of battles and an relentless quest for vengeance. After a few moments, he replied, almost in a whisper, "The truth is, I never thought I had the right to desire that. Who would join someone whose heart is marked by loss and a thirst for vengeance? I... just don't believe I have anything to offer."
The conversation naturally came to an end, and silence resumed its place between them. However, Irina seemed to still reflect on Dinis's words, feeling that the darkness he carried was, in part, what made him so determined and resolute. Deep down, she wished that someday he could find peace for the scars of his past.
Days later, the city of Cahzar appeared on the horizon. Despite its size and imposing structure, Cahzar carried in its air the weight of a city constantly haunted by its proximity to the underworld's fields. The streets, filled with suspicious faces, revealed a people who had learned to live with fear.
As they entered the heart of the city, the immense and silent cathedral stood out among the other buildings. Irina paused for a moment, observing the edifice that had long been her destination before everything changed with the attack. At the cathedral's entrance, a priest with an anxious and worried look scanned the crowd as if searching for someone specific. Upon spotting Irina, his expression brightened, and he hurried toward her, ignoring all the people around.
"Heavens, where have you been?" he exclaimed, his voice choked with relief and apprehension. "I sent an escort, fearing the worst!"
Irina took a deep breath, nodding. "We were attacked... a ferocious creature, something that seemed half dog, half human. It... massacred all the guards and took me to the Black Forest."
The priest listened attentively, his eyes shining with admiration upon hearing about Dinis's feat, who sat silently beside Irina. "And it was this young man who brought you back safely? A single man?" He seemed incredulous, but the firmness in Irina's voice left no room for doubt.
After a moment of silence, the priest cast a worried look at Dinis, as if seeing something darker and more dangerous in him. "Irina," he said in a low, serious voice, "I can't help but worry. If you truly plan to accompany this young man to Mount Targot, I fear that the darkness of that region is even deeper than anything you've faced so far."
Irina looked at the priest, her gaze filled with determination. "I know the risks, but... perhaps the only way to get the answers he seeks is there. Even so, I know this journey won't be easy, and there are parts of this path that he may need to tread alone."
Dinis, listening to the conversation, remained silent, but a mixture of gratitude and unease arose in his heart. He was beginning to understand that although Irina was willing to go by his side, this journey was too heavy a burden to share. The desire to protect Irina from the dangers he knew were lurking outweighed the longing for companionship and support.
The priest slowly nodded. "There are many legends about the oracle on Mount Targot. But there are also warnings. This is not a quest that just anyone can undertake, and no one knows what a Sentinel might encounter when challenging such mysteries."
After a brief silence, the priest turned to Dinis. "We will rest here tonight. But, young man, remember that there are burdens meant to be carried in solitude. Perhaps along this path, you will discover more than you imagine—about your parents and about yourself."
Dinis nodded, absorbing the priest's words. As silence settled once more, he realized that the weight of his journey had increased. The cathedral would provide a moment of rest, but he knew he was about to embark on a journey where answers and sacrifices walked side by side.
Irina, observing him in silence, felt that somehow this farewell would be only temporary. The mark these days had left on her heart was deep, and even though she didn't know how, she believed that their paths would cross again someday.