The faint smell of singed wood clung to the air, drifting from the destroyed village behind them.
Ophilia grunted, his voice low but sharp enough to be heard.
"If they were allowed to live, they would spread word of their 'helpers'. Letting them speak is no different than scattering embers in dry grass. It spreads, and then—" He gestured with one gloved hand as if to brush dust off his cloak, "—it burns. We cannot allow that."
The riders murmured their agreement, but Ophilia's gaze turned back once more, though the village was now a faint smudge in the distance. He leaned forward in his saddle.
"They will return to this world, I'm certain of it," he declared, his voice carrying with the certainty of prophecy. "And when they do, find them. Hunt them. Even if they crawl to the edge of the Aellar."
At that moment, something rippled through the line of yellow-eyed horses. A pulse of energy trembled through the beasts' limbs. They jerked suddenly, muscles bulging under their sleek skin. Their legs grew thicker, their hooves slamming the earth harder, sending dirt and dust flying with each step.
Ophilia felt his mount surge forward, its pace increasing with unnatural speed. The creature was transforming beneath him—bigger, stronger, faster. The change twisted the edges of his mouth into something like a smile. Whatever the cost, he would not allow fools to ruin all he was so close to having.
Not now.
Not ever.
---
Back to Andrew and Mella.
The jungle stretched out before them in a haze of deep greens and twisting shadows. Andrew kept his pace steady, his eyes sweeping over the underbrush for movement while Bar-jui led them forward. Beside him, Mella moved gracefully, the only sound from her was the crunch of leaves beneath her boots.
They weren't here to fight. Not yet. This was reconnaissance—learning the layout of the land so they could navigate easily under the cover of night.
Andrew caught the way Bar-jui eyed him and Mella but said nothing. Then Bar-jui said casually: "What does Konah think of my father?"
The question made Andrew slow. He hadn't been expecting that. His thoughts spun quickly before settling on a reply. "He respects what your father has done," Andrew answered, his tone even.
Bar-jui's expression flickered—something like surprise mixed with discomfort. He looked ahead, his shoulders stiff. "That's… interesting. My father did a lot of dishonorable things in his time." His voice dropped, almost to a mutter. "But in the end, he regretted it. Tried to be better."
Andrew glanced at Mella, who was listening quietly, her face calm but thoughtful. Bar-jui went on, "The shamans told me Konah doesn't forgive. Not when the dishonorable actions outweigh the honorable ones. I believed it. Always believed that forgiveness was out of reach." His gaze flickered back. "It's nice to know all that was nonsense."
Mella finally spoke. "The shamans are only partially correct. Konah holds regret in high regard. For those who understand what they've done and seek to be better—his heart occasionally softens." She offered Bar-jui a small smile. "Your father was thought of often. Eventually, Konah forgave him."
Damn, she's good.
Bar-jui looked at her for a long moment, his face unreadable. Then he nodded, and something lighter seemed to settle over him. "I see. That's… that's good to hear."
Andrew stayed quiet, though his chest tightened with guilt. They were lying.
They were using him. Andrew wanted to justify it to himself, that this was necessary. After all, if those monster eggs hatched and unleashed monsters on the world, Bar-jui's people would be among the first to die because of proximity.
But even so, the lies sat heavy on his tongue.
The three pressed on, encountering jungle beasts along the way—creatures with curved fangs and claws like iron. But Andrew and Mella dispatched them with swift movements.
Each time, Bar-jui stood frozen, his expression stricken with disbelief at their speed and strength.
When the final creature collapsed to the dirt, Bar-jui shook his head, awe written clearly on his face. "You two… are amazing."
Andrew wiped his blade on his sleeve. "Of course we are. Konah trained us," he said simply.
After another stretch of walking, they finally came to a clearing. At its center loomed a massive black stone, smooth and flat as glass. its surface gleaming faintly in the filtered sunlight.
Bar-jui gestured toward it. "Underneath, the hole stretches for miles."
Andrew frowned, circling the stone. "And the Mao tribe won't have an issue with you being here?"
For a heartbeat, Bar-jui didn't move, his expression slipping into something hard to read. Then, just as quickly, his face smoothed into an easy smile. "Of course not. They're like brothers to us."
"R-right. I forgot."
Mella wandered around the stone, placing her palm on its surface. "It's so smooth… I've never seen anything like it."
Bar-jui said nothing, watching her carefully.
---
They returned to the village before dusk, the air thick with the smell of cooking fires. Women carried baskets of food while children chased one another through the narrow paths.
A meal was brought to them: roasted meat skewered on thin sticks. It smelled good enough, but the taste was underwhelming when Andrew bit into it.
"Snake," Bar-jui said when he noticed their expressions. "It keeps us fed."
Andrew forced himself to keep chewing. Hunger was hunger. Beside him, Mella managed to finish hers without complaint, though she wrinkled her nose slightly.
As they ate, the sky dimmed to a deep purple, stars flickering to life one by one. The villagers gathered around fires, and for a while, everything was still. Andrew turned to Mella, watching the flames reflect in her eyes.
"Hey," he said, breaking the quiet. "What do you want to do in the future?"
Mella blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
"Your goals," he clarified, leaning back against the tree behind him. "What do you plan to do? I mean, other than helping your family."
Mella looked thoughtful, a faint smile pulling at her lips. "Why do you ask?"
Andrew shrugged. "No real reason. Just curious. We've got time, so…"
She studied him for a moment before sighing, her expression softening. "Other than helping my family…" She hesitated, then laughed quietly. "It's stupid."
Andrew shook his head. "No, it's not. I'm interested."
Her smile widened slightly, though she didn't answer right away.