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"I know a stream close by…" That was what I said, but why is she so weak? The rain beating us while we searched for shelter was a bad idea, sure, but I didn't think it would get her this sick so suddenly. I won't lie—I'm not faring much better. My teeth knock together like castanets, goosebumps covering every inch of my skin. Our clothes are drenched, clinging to us like a second skin. Just looking at her, slumped against the wet ground like a ragged doll soaked in rain, makes my chest tighten with pity.
"I think we should keep moving. We're close," I said, extending my hand to her. She looked up at me with hollow eyes, exhaustion written all over her pale face. She grabbed my hand without a word, and I helped her up. Her fingers felt like ice.
"It wouldn't be a good idea to stay here any longer." She nodded weakly, and we resumed our slow march through the forest.
We walked in silence, the sound of squelching mud underfoot and the rain dripping from the leaves above the only company we had. After what felt like an eternity, the stream finally came into view, its waters glimmering faintly in the fading light.
"There's a problem," I said as I surveyed the stream, my brows furrowing.
Elara glanced at me, her voice barely above a whisper. "What problem?"
"We can't bathe in cold water," I explained, feeling irritation prickling at my patience. "Not in our condition."
She stood in silence for a moment, seemingly trying to think of a solution but finding none. Finally, she asked, "W-what should we do?"
Her stammer made me sigh. "We need to warm the water somehow." My eyes scanned the area until they settled on a birch tree. The sight of its papery bark sparked an idea. I knelt down, rummaging through my pack for tools. "Stay put. I'll handle this."
Without waiting for her response, I set to work. I carefully carved away strips of the birch bark, shaping it into a rough container. Its natural resistance to water would allow it to hold liquid long enough to boil some. Meanwhile, I called over my shoulder, "Hey, don't just sit there. Get a fire started."
To her credit, she didn't complain. She gathered sticks and dried leaves, arranging them meticulously as I worked on the makeshift container. Soon, the fire flickered to life, casting warmth over the cold, damp clearing. I finished shaping the container and filled it with water from the stream.
It wasn't long before the water began to bubble. I mixed the boiling water with cooler stream water to make it warm enough for a bath. "You first," I said, gesturing toward the makeshift tub. "Don't forget to wash your clothes, too."
She hesitated, eyes darting around nervously before finally nodding. "I won't spy on you," I added dryly. "Just make it quick."
She vanished behind the rocks, and I let out a breath, grateful for the brief solitude. My thoughts, however, refused to rest. The badges—the clue—everything hung over me like a dark cloud. The only thing delaying me now was her.
She returned sooner than I expected, wrapped in her tattered undergarments. Her damp hair clung to her face, making her look younger, more fragile. For the first time, I noticed the delicate contours of her face, the innocence in her wide doe eyes contrasting with the haunted expression she wore. I quickly averted my gaze, clearing my throat. "Sorry for staring. How was the bath?"
"I-it wasn't bad," she mumbled, her face flushing as she sat by the fire.
Once she settled, I took my turn. The warmth of the water melted some of the chill from my bones, but my mind stayed sharp. We couldn't afford to waste time. When I finished and returned to the fire, I found her waiting quietly, her clothes drying nearby.
"Elara," I began, "how were you abducted?"
Her expression darkened, and she drew her knees to her chest. "I'm a student at Yale University," she said softly. "I was on my way to the Sterling Memorial Library to get some books. It was late, and as I left, I saw someone on New Haven Street—beaten, looking tattered. I thought he needed help."
"And then you were surrounded," I guessed, folding my arms.
"Yes." Her voice trembled. "It all happened so fast."
"How cliché," I muttered, shaking my head. "What do you study?"
"Social Sciences," she answered, clearly flustered.
"History, specifically?"
"Yes."
"Are you good with languages?"
She paused, uncertainty in her eyes. "Not very good… but I know the basics."
I nodded, considering her answer. "About the clue," I said, leaning forward. "Can you remember it?"
Her brows knit together in concentration before she recited it: "An'yami ni ki o tsukete, ha ni chūi shite, ippo ippo ga eien ni kewashiku naru deshou."
I blinked, surprised by her fluency. "What do you think it means?"
She bit her lip, thinking hard. "It'd be best to break it down word by word."
"Fine," I agreed. "Start with 'an'yami.'"
"Darkness," she said, drawing the Kanji character "暗闇" in the dirt with a stick. "It means darkness."
"And 'ni'?"
"It's a particle meaning 'to,' written as に."
We continued like this, dissecting the phrase piece by piece:
"Ha" could mean "tooth" or act as a particle depending on context.
"Chūi suru" meant "to be careful," written as 注意する.
"Ippo ippo" meant "step by step," 一歩一歩.
"Ga" was a subject marker.
"Eien ni" translated to "forever," 永遠に.
"Kewashiku naru" meant "become steep," 険しくなる.
Finally, we pieced the words together: "Be careful of the darkness, mind your teeth, and know that each step will become increasingly difficult forever."
The sentence gnawed at me. "Mind your teeth?" I repeated, frowning. "What the hell does that mean?"
"I-I don't know," she admitted, her voice trembling. "It sounds… ominous."
"We'll figure it out later." My stomach growled, reminding me that we hadn't eaten all day. "Stay here. I'll find us something to eat."
She nodded, sitting close to the fire, her expression unreadable. As I walked into the woods, the clue echoed in my mind. Darkness. Teeth. Endless struggle. Whatever it meant, it was just the beginning.