The Next Day
Morning didn't begin with training as usual. Outside, right in front of the house, the mess from the previous day still hadn't been cleaned. Passing by my parents' room, I entered to check if they were there, but found it empty. They must have already left. Father always wakes up first, and Ellin usually gets up around the same time as me, but she wasn't there either. She must have spent the night with Marika.
Descending from the second floor, the first place I checked was the kitchen. Perhaps Ellin was there. But no, she wasn't, and the kitchen was still in the same state as it was last night. One of the chairs lay on the floor—the one Rey had been sitting on yesterday. When the priest told us we could go see Marika, he had jumped up so fast that he knocked it over. I picked the chair up and set it back in place.
Next, I headed to the room where Marika was resting. She remained in the living room; moving her to her own room was still too risky. No one knew what might happen to her injury if we tried. So, we decided to leave her where she was.
As I walked through the hallway leading to the room, a shiver ran through me. The bloodstains still marked the floor, a grim reminder of the events. They needed to be cleaned, but no one had gotten around to it yesterday. My gaze fell on the family sword leaning against the wall. The blood on its blade and hilt had dried, leaving dark stains. I would have to clean it and return it to my parents' room later.
Entering the living room, the first thing I noticed was Ellin asleep on the floor beside Marika. She must have been so worried that she stayed by her side the entire time. Judging by the blanket draped over her, Rey had probably been here earlier. He must have decided not to wake her and covered her with it instead.
Marika lay motionless on the bed, her shallow breaths the only sign that she was still alive. I exhaled softly, relieved. She's still with us. Her pale face hadn't changed much. A light blanket covered her, hiding the wound she'd received.
—"I'll make them pay for this,"—I muttered, clenching my fists.
Before leaving the room, I hugged both of them briefly and opened a window to let in some fresh air. Then, I stepped outside.
Opening the door to the yard, the same scene from yesterday greeted me—a nightmare that refused to fade. Even now, with my thoughts clearer, the sight filled me with the same horror I'd felt the day before. Along with it came guilt.
—"If only I'd listened to Father and stayed,"—I murmured bitterly,—"Marika wouldn't have been hurt, and Ellin and I could've fought them off."
I surveyed the battlefield that was once our front yard. The body of the strange bandit who had attacked us was no longer there. Carefully examining the ground, I searched for any clues, but found nothing. The earth bore countless sword marks, and sections of the fence were destroyed, some scorched by Mother's spells. Yet nothing stood out—nothing that could help me prepare for the next encounter.
I used a few simple earth spells to level the ground, smoothing over the evidence of yesterday's chaos. Then, I decided to head into town to investigate further.
…
The streets were relatively quiet. On the opposite side of town, far from the attack, life bustled as usual. As I walked through the affected area, I passed houses that had been damaged. Many locals were helping with repairs.
—"Have you seen my father?"—I asked one of the villagers.
—"He's over by the edge of town,"—they replied.
I set off in that direction, scanning my surroundings as I went. Nothing caught my attention—until I spotted a small, dark scrap of material. It stood out enough to pique my curiosity, so I approached to take a closer look. Its texture was oddly familiar, similar to the armor worn by the bandits who had attacked us.
Reaching under a few scattered debris, I retrieved the fragment. Examining it more closely, I noticed a faint emblem on it—a small, wing-like design. It wasn't complete; part of it had been torn away.
—"This might be nothing,"—I thought, turning it over in my hands.—"It could be unrelated to them entirely."
Still, the discovery nagged at me. Tucking the scrap into my pocket, I continued on my way to meet Father.
Father stood at the edge of the town, near a collapsed house, helping some of the residents strengthen the walls and move debris. His figure was imposing against the backdrop of destruction, but I noticed tension and exhaustion in his movements. For a moment, I hesitated to interrupt him, but then I made up my mind.
— «Father,» — I called, stepping closer.
He turned around, and for a brief moment, I saw a shadow of concern in his eyes. He gestured to the workers that he would step away for a bit and set down the sandbag he had been carrying before approaching me.
— «Ruwen, is something wrong?» — he asked, his voice gentle but attentive.
I felt a knot tighten in my chest, but I tried to speak steadily:
— «I wanted to talk about yesterday. About what happened with Marika… and those bandits.»
Father frowned but said nothing. He gestured toward a small piece of collapsed wall, inviting me to sit. I sat down, avoiding his gaze. He did the same, clasping his hands over his knees.
— «I know you feel guilty,» — he began after a long pause.
— «You think that if you had stayed, things would have been different. That's normal, Ruwen. But don't forget, you're only twelve. No one expects you to be able to protect everyone.»
— «But I should have…» — I started, but he interrupted gently.
— «No. You did everything you could. You're not a warrior; you're still learning. Blaming yourself for what you didn't do leads nowhere. Instead, think about how you can help now.»
I clenched my fists, feeling anger and helplessness tear me apart inside. But Father continued:
— «Revenge is not what you need, Ruwen. Those people…» — he paused, as if choosing his words carefully. — «They are dangerous, even for seasoned fighters. If you think you can handle them on your own… you can't. You'll only put yourself in danger and leave us and Ellin alone. Do you understand that?»
I remained silent, unable to respond. He was right, but the thought of doing nothing felt unbearable.
— «If you truly want to help,» — Father continued, — «use your head. Notice what I might have missed. But no independent actions. Do you promise me that?»
— «I… yes,» — I forced out. But deep down, I was already making a decision. I wasn't going to sit and wait.
Father placed a hand on my shoulder, his gaze softening.
— «You're a smart boy, Ruwen. And I'm proud of you. But don't forget—you're still a child. Don't try to take on more than you can. Now go home. Help Ellin and stay with Marika. She needs all of us.
I nodded and stood up, feeling a lump rise in my throat. I wanted to say something else, but the words stuck. Instead, I silently turned and walked away, feeling Father's gaze on my back.
On my way home, I tried to calm my thoughts, but they kept swirling wildly in my head like an endless storm. Everything Father had told me was true—I was just a child, and my strength was limited. Yet anger and a sense of helplessness refused to leave me. I had to do something, take action.
When I returned home, I approached the living room and hesitated at the door. Ellin was still sitting beside Marika, her face weary, her eyes red from sleeplessness. I knew she hadn't had any proper rest. But she was there.
Mother noticed me and gave a short nod:
— «Good, you're back. There's still much to do around the house,» — she said, standing up.
— «Help with the cleaning,» — she added, leaving the room.
— «Alright,» — I replied.
The rest of the day, I spent helping Ellin with the cleaning. When the day finally ended, I went up to my room. My mind was occupied with the task ahead. In my room, I opened a small chest and began gathering supplies. A cloak, a knife, and some provisions—everything I might need on the road.
After packing the items into a bag, I sat at my desk and wrote a short letter:
«Don't worry if I'm gone for three or four days. I have to do this.
Ruwen.»
I left the letter on the bed, where my mother would definitely find it. One last glance at the room, one last breath of air from home, and I stepped into the corridor. Before leaving, I went to Marika. She was still unconscious, her face remained pale. I adjusted the blanket and paused for a moment, staring at her still figure. My mother wasn't there; she was in her room, tired, she had quickly given in and fallen asleep.
—"I promise, they will pay,"— I whispered, clenching my fists.
I quietly left the house, trying not to disturb my mother, and headed towards the forest. The moonlight faintly illuminated the path I walked, and despite the night's silence, each step echoed dully in my mind. I could feel my heart pounding wildly, knowing that my actions might impact the lives of everyone I held dear.
When I reached the edge of the forest, my mind sharpened—now the hardest part began. I already knew where the bandit camp was and how it was arranged. The last time I watched them, I had a rough understanding of their setup. The bandits weren't great strategists, but their numbers and the tense atmosphere around them made me stay alert.
After studying all possible paths and hiding spots, I made a plan. Before acting, I felt anxiety again, but quickly suppressed it. Fear had no place in this moment. My revenge would happen today. And my plan would begin now.
I aimed at one of the camp entrances, hidden behind thick bushes, and stepped forward. The forest was quiet, with only the rustling of leaves breaking the silence. In my hands was a knife, its blade glinting in the dark, and my body was prepared for what was to come.
As I approached, I froze. Three bandits were standing guard at the entrance, but they didn't expect an attack. I knew there must be others, possibly inside. The plan was simple: neutralize these three, get inside, and deal with those in the camp.
I took a deep breath, hiding in the shadows. The knife was in my hand, but my mind was focused on the next move. I knew I couldn't afford to make a mistake—every moment mattered. I rose and, using agility, snuck up behind one of the guards, silently approaching and immobilizing him with a blow to the neck.
The other two bandits noticed him too late. I was faster, my movements like lightning—with a knife in hand and determination in my eyes. When the second guard tried to scream, his attempt was immediately stopped. I quickly moved on to the third and finished what I had started.
Each of their bodies fell to the ground with a silent thud. But there was no joy in me, only a cold and merciless gaze, consumed by vengeance.
I didn't have time to examine the camp in detail, but it was enough to understand—now I needed to enter the camp. In my heart, I knew I was stepping onto a dangerous path, but there was no turning back. I moved quickly, hiding in the darkness, sneaking deeper into the camp, where it all began.
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End of Chapter 12.