"Sister, I am thirsty," Sandoz said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He had just finished devouring a fist-sized chunk of boar meat and a banana, his small hands wiping at the corners of his mouth.
Lara bent down and unearthed a bamboo tube half-buried in the ground. She handed it to the boy, the water inside now cool after being previously boiled. She was confident it was safe to drink.
Her thoughts wandered to the river nearby. Was the water there drinkable? Perhaps it was. But boiling it had become second nature to her—an ingrained habit born of caution when she lacked the means to purify it chemically.
The old man's sharp eyes followed her every movement, observing in silence.
"Sir, may we know your name?" Reya broke the quiet, her voice casual as she chewed on a handful of wild berries to mask the lingering taste of the meat.
"My name is Jethru," the old man replied, his tone firm but his expression unexpectedly kind. "But you can call me Grandpa."
He leaned slightly forward, his gaze steady. "Where are you going? And what is your plan?"
Lara glanced at him from beneath her lashes, her face impassive but her mind racing. She was weighing her options, debating whether or not to reveal the truth to this stranger.
"Grandpa, we want to return to Northem, specifically to Savadra," Reya answered cheerfully, her voice bright with optimism.
"Savadra... the capital city of Northem," Jethru repeated, his tone subdued. A fleeting shadow of pain crossed his face, too quick to linger but impossible for Lara to miss.
"Do you know the place, Grandpa?" Reya asked, her curiosity piqued.
Jethru's gaze shifted to the tanned teenager speaking to him. Her face, dotted with acne, caught his attention for the first time. Until now, he had been focused on Lara. His fingers twitched involuntarily. He had always been a man who sought perfection, and blemishes—on objects or people—irritated him. Still, something about Reya's sunny personality softened his critical nature. The urge to help her, to cure her imperfections, grew stronger.
"You're bold," he said, his tone both impressed and concerned. "Don't you realize there are at least five groups of bandits hiding in the mountains of Alta-Sierra? And as if that's not enough, Estalis and Northem are at war. The mountain range is the contested boundary between the two countries."
Reya's expression shifted, her confidence faltering. "How could that be? Everything was peaceful just five days ago!"
Jethru turned his sharp eyes on her.
"Of course, it seemed peaceful. Your military wouldn't announce a border war to civilians," he said bluntly, the weight of his words sinking into the air between them.
"Then what should we do, Grandpa? Can you travel with us? It should be safer if we have you with us, right? General O—"
"What do you suggest, Grandpa Jethru?" Lara interrupted Reya, cutting her off sharply.
'This girl... she has no sense of danger at all', Lara thought, her irritation barely concealed. 'Has she learned nothing from our previous abduction? How can she trust a stranger we've only known for an hour?' Lara made a mental note to have a serious talk with Reya—and Sandoz too. The man might appear harmless, but appearances were often deceiving.
Jethru cleared his throat, his gaze steady. "If you have nowhere else to go, I know of a safe place where you can stay until things settle down."
"Grandpa, you're so kind!" Reya exclaimed, her eyes shining. "I'm convinced you're the Hermit Miss Lara dreamed about. My miss must have foreseen the future in her dreams!"
"Reya!" Lara's voice rose, sharp and commanding. She shot the maid a reproachful glare, her patience wearing thin.
Turning back to Jethru, Lara's tone softened but remained guarded. "Grandpa Jethru, thank you for your offer. But we don't want to impose on you. We can manage here in this cave—"
"No!" Jethru interrupted firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You cannot stay here. I know a better place for you."
The certainty in his voice made Lara's instincts flare. Why was he so insistent? Why was he so eager to take them elsewhere?
Her suspicions boiled over. Without hesitation, Lara's hand moved like a flash of lightning. She unsheathed the knife strapped to her outer thigh and pointed it directly at Jethru's chest.
"Why are you so anxious to take us away?" she demanded, her voice cold and unwavering, the blade gleaming in the dim light of the cave.
"Old man, are you one of them? Are you trying to trick us?" Lara's voice was icy, her gaze sharp and unyielding.
Reya's eyes widened in alarm, darting between Lara and Jethru. Her attention was locked on the knife, its gleaming tip hovering dangerously close—barely two centimeters from the old man's chest.
"Miss... Miss Lara," Reya stammered, her voice trembling. "Please put the knife down. It's sharp... you might hurt Grandpa!" Her words were pleading, fear etched across her face.
Jethru chuckled, a sound low and unhurried, as if amused by the turn of events. For so long, his life had been nothing but monotonous routines, each day blending into the next. But now—when was the last time something, or someone, had truly piqued his interest?
"What a bold little girl," he said, his lips curling into a teasing smile. "I am not a human trafficker."
"Then perhaps you're a pedophile," Lara shot back, her tone cutting, "and you have bad intentions toward us."
Jethru's smile faded, replaced by a deep frown. Pedophile? He didn't fully understand the term, but the context was clear enough.
"You, little girl," he said sharply, his tone laced with irritation. "My intentions are pure. Do not insult me with your baseless accusations."
In a single swift motion, Jethru's hand darted forward, disarming Lara before she could react. The knife clattered to the ground as he gripped her wrist firmly, his strength belying his age.
Lara's eyes narrowed, her instincts kicking in. Twisting her arm sharply, she freed herself from his grasp and immediately retaliated. Her leg lashed out in a powerful kick aimed at his crotch, but Jethru sidestepped it effortlessly, his movements fluid and precise.
Undeterred, Lara launched a flurry of attacks, drawing from every discipline she had learned—Taekwondo, Karate, Kung Fu, even techniques borrowed from mixed martial arts. Punches, kicks, and strikes came at the old man in rapid succession!
"Grandpa Jethru!"