The second day of their journey to Eldemor began much like the first—quiet, steady, and without incident. The morning mist hung in the air as the forest slowly woke, birds chirping in the distance. Raymond and Sonya made their way down the narrow forest path, their boots crunching lightly over the fallen leaves.
Sonya, however, was more restless than usual. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Raymond. For the past day and a half, she had watched him closely. He hardly spoke unless necessary, didn't eat or drink, and he never once slowed his pace. His constant, unwavering stride gave the impression that he was a man who never grew tired, but Sonya knew better. No one was like that—not even Raymond, no matter how strong he appeared.
She stole another glance at him from the corner of her eye. His armor, dark and imposing, gleamed faintly in the morning light. His helmet obscured his features, but his posture was as rigid and controlled as ever. He was like a statue, unmoving, unyielding.
But Sonya had seen through the facade. She wasn't blind to the fact that something was wrong. Raymond wasn't just strong—he was unnaturally strong. He was walking without so much as a hint of weariness, while she could feel the strain in her own legs after a full day of travel. And it wasn't just physical. He hadn't slept once. Not the entire trip.
The more she thought about it, the more she found herself growing concerned. She wasn't one to pry into other people's business, but this was different. There was something off about Raymond, and it was eating at her. Maybe it was the way he refused to talk about himself, or the strange lack of rest, but it was as if he wasn't entirely human—or at least not like any person she had ever met.
She couldn't take it anymore.
"Raymond," she called, her voice more direct than it had been before.
He turned his head slightly at the sound of her voice, but his pace didn't change. "Yes?"
Sonya paused, trying to gather her thoughts. This wasn't going to be easy, but she couldn't hold back any longer. "You know, I've been meaning to ask you... Are you sure you're okay?"
Raymond didn't answer immediately. His glowing eyes flickered briefly toward her before returning to the road ahead. "I told you before, I'm fine. There's no need to worry."
Sonya's lips tightened. She had heard that answer a dozen times already, and she wasn't about to let it slide anymore. She stepped in front of him, blocking his path. Her stance was firm, and she crossed her arms over her chest.
"No. You're not fine. Not really," she said, meeting his gaze head-on. "You haven't eaten, you haven't drunk anything, and you haven't even rested since we left. That's not normal, Raymond. Even adventurers need sleep. Even you need sleep."
Raymond halted in his tracks, his eyes narrowing just a fraction. For a moment, there was a silence between them. Sonya could see the conflict in his expression, but it was fleeting—gone before it was fully there. Raymond wasn't the type to show vulnerability, and he certainly wasn't the type to admit weakness.
"I'm used to it," he said, his voice low, almost defensive. "I've trained myself to keep moving."
"That's not an answer, and you know it," Sonya countered, her voice more insistent. "I've traveled with enough people to know that no one can just keep going like you without consequences. What's really going on? Why won't you just tell me?"
Raymond's jaw clenched, his shoulders stiffening. His gaze flickered away from hers, not out of guilt, but more like a man trying to avoid a topic he didn't want to confront. He took a deep breath before responding, but his voice was quieter this time, almost too soft.
"There's nothing to tell."
Sonya's heart sank. She knew he wasn't telling her everything. But she didn't want to push him too far. Not yet. Still, she refused to back down. "Raymond, I'm not going to let this go. You've got to tell me what's really going on. Whatever it is, I can help. But you need to trust me."
Raymond shifted uneasily, his posture stiffening as if preparing for an argument. He opened his mouth to speak, but then, for the first time since they'd met, he hesitated. The silence between them grew, and Sonya could feel the weight of his indecision hanging in the air.
Sonya watched him closely, noticing the faint flicker of something—something like exhaustion—beneath his calm demeanor. She took a small step toward him, her voice softer now, almost coaxing. "You don't have to tell me everything. Just... let me help. You don't have to carry whatever this is alone."
Raymond stood still for several heartbeats, his expression unreadable. Then, finally, he let out a slow breath and lowered his gaze. "I... I can't explain it to you right now. But I'll be fine. I always am."
Sonya didn't believe him, but she nodded anyway. "Alright. But don't think I'm going to stop asking, Raymond. I care about you, and if you keep pushing me away, I'm not going to just let it go."
Raymond didn't respond, but he gave a brief nod. He didn't know how much longer he could keep this up. The truth was that there was no simple explanation. He wasn't sure if he could explain it—not in a way that would make sense to someone like Sonya.
The rest of the journey was quieter. Sonya's curiosity was now fully piqued, but she kept her thoughts to herself, knowing better than to push Raymond too far. For his part, Raymond did his best to maintain his usual stoic demeanor. He refused to acknowledge the unease gnawing at him, the discomfort of being so close to someone who had begun to suspect there was more to him than met the eye.
By late afternoon, they came to a small stream, and Raymond stopped to fill her water skin. Sonya, not wanting to push him too far, sat nearby and leaned against a tree, her arms folded as she watched him. She wasn't giving up, not yet. But for now, all she could do was wait.
When he returned, she gave him a pointed look. "You could have at least stopped to eat something. You've been going for hours."
Raymond glanced at her and then at the water skin in his hand. "I'm not hungry."
Sonya sighed, but she didn't press him anymore. She knew Raymond well enough by now to realize that if he didn't want to talk, he wasn't going to.
The rest of the day passed slowly, with only the sound of their footsteps echoing through the woods. The trees were beginning to thin, and the sun was starting to dip toward the horizon. Eldemor was getting closer, but Raymond's mind remained focused on one thing: what had really happened there? Why had the dire wolves attacked so ferociously?
He didn't know what awaited him, but something told him it wasn't just a simple attack by wild animals. There was something more sinister at play. And he was determined to find out what it was. But as much as he wanted to press on, he couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that Sonya's curiosity—and worry—was growing with each passing hour. He couldn't keep dodging the questions forever.
He just hoped that, when the time came, he'd be able to give her an answer.