The forest was eerily quiet, save for the faint rustling of leaves. Five men moved through the tall grass, their steps light and careful. They were slavers, each had a dark, menacing look from their years of unspeakable doings, and their search was driven by frustration. Their companions had disappeared, leaving behind no trace, except for some leftover ashes at an abandoned camp from days before.
"Fucking split up, they said," one of the slavers grumbled, wiping sweat from his brow. "Now they're probably dead, and we're left wiping their ass."
"Shut it," scolded the leader, a tall man with scars etched across his face. "We'll find whoever's responsible. They couldn't have gotten far."
The group moved with practiced precision. This wasn't their first hunt, and they fully expected it to end like the others-with their prey beaten, broken, and dragged back in chains.
It was then they spotted her.
Mira knelt near a patch of herbs, her small hands trembling as she picked at the leaves. She had ventured farther than usual, hoping to find something delicious to bring home. But the sound of heavy boots froze her in place. Her heart pounded in her chest as she slowly turned her head.
Their eyes met.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still, Then, Mira let out a piercing scream before she tried to run away. But it was too late. Rough hands grabbed her arms, dragging her back as she kicked and thrashed.
"Got you," one of the slavers sneered. "Where do you think you're going little rabbit?"
Mira's screams echoed through the forest, but they soon turned to quiet sobs as fear overtook her.
---
Fiore's ear twitched. She froze, her hands hovering over the watering can where she had been watering the seeds. The scream rang out again, faint but unmistakable.
"Mira," she whispered, her sharp half-elf hearing leaving no doubt.
She dropped everything and ran toward the house, her feet light but frantic. When she burst in, the other girls turned to her in alarm.
"Fiore, what's wrong?" Elara asked, concern etched on her face.
"Mira!" Fiore gasped. "I heard her scream! In the forest! She's in trouble!"
The room fell into chaos as the girls all started speaking at once, panic spreading like wildfire. Fiore turned to Zoran, who sat by the window, sharpening his dagger.
"Zoran!" she cried, her voice desperate. "She's in danger! We have to help her!"
Zoran's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on the dagger. He didn't waste time asking questions. "Stay calm," he said firmly, his voice cutting through the noise. "Where exactly did you hear the scream?"
Fiore pointed toward the eastern part of the forest, her hands shaking. "That way. It wasn't far."
Zoran nodded and grabbed his weapons, slipping them into the holsters on his wheelchair. "Everyone stays here," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.
But the girls wouldn't listen. "We can't just sit here!" Fiore argued. "What if something bad happened to her? She's one of us!"
"We want to help out too!" Elara followed up.
The others nodded, their faces pale but determined. Zoran stared at them for a long moment, then let out a heavy sigh. "Fine," he said. "But you need to stay close to me. Do you understand?"
"Yes," they all said in unison, their voices trembling but resolute.
---
The forest seemed darker than usual, the canopy above covering the late afternoon sun. Zoran led the way, his wheelchair moving steadily over the uneven terrain. The girls followed closely, their breaths shallow and nervous.
The deeper they went, the more the atmosphere weighed on them. Memories of chains, beatings, and the abuses of their former captors surfaced, making their steps falter. Zoran noticed their hesitation and turned his head slightly.
"Focus," he said quietly. "You're not slaves anymore. You're stronger than they ever made you believe."
His words gave them a boost of courage, but fear still remained in their heart.
It wasn't long before they heard voices up ahead. Zoran raised a hand signalling the group to stop. He motioned for them to stay back as he move closer, his sharp eye scanning the scene.
In a small clearing, Mira knelt on the ground, her face bloodied and bruised. One of the slavers stood over her, shouting questions.
"Where are they?!" He demanded, striking her across the face. Mira whimpered but didn't answer, her eyes distant and filled with tears.
It's over... I'm going back... to the cages... Elara... Zoran... I'm sorry... Blood and tears streaked Mira's face, her despair drowning out even the pain.
Zoran's eyes narrowed as rage bubbled inside him. He reached for a small vial at his side, pulling out a dart coated in poison. And swiftly shot it toward the man hitting Mira.
The dart hit its mark, the man staggered, clutching his neck before collapsing to the ground, lifeless. The others turned in shock, their eyes narrowing as they spotted Zoran and the girls behind.
"*Sniff* Zho-ran *Sniff*" Mira couldn't say anything, seeing all of them coming for her. She felt warm in her heart, but also dread as she feared for Zoran and the rest of the girls.
"Well, well," The leader said, his lips curling into a sneer." Looks like we found the one responsible for our missing friends. And it seems they've got some of our properties with them."
The girls flinched at his words, old fears, resurfacing. Zoran, however, remained calm, his icy gaze fixed on the slavers.
"You've made a mistake coming here," his voice low and menacing. "Let her go, and you might walk away alive."
The leader laughed, "Big words for a fucking cripple. Let's see if you can back them up."
"Ugh!"
Before Zoran could react, the leader grabbed Mira and pressed a blade to her neck. "Drop your weapons," he ordered, his tone deadly, "or the girl dies."
The girls behind Zoran froze, their breaths hitching as they watched the blade drew a thin line of blood on Mira's throat. Zoran's hands tightening on his dagger, his mind racing.
He couldn't do anything, any action from him would get Mira killed. He couldn't think of anything that could save Mira. He felt an intense, seething rage, not just at the slavers, but also at himself. Memories of his past life flooded his mind. His comrades falling helplessly in battle, while he just stood there and watched them die. Now, the same thing is about to happen to Mira. He couldn't save Mira, he was powerless.
Or was he?
Something stirred deep within him, a dormant force that seemed to be waiting for a moment like this. Zoran felt it awaken, coursing through his entire body like fire. His vision sharpened, his senses heightening as time seemed to slow.
The slaver never saw it coming.
In an instant, Zoran vanished from his spot. The next moment, he was behind the man holding Mira. The slaver's eyes widened in shock as he felt the cold steel of a dagger pierce his throat. Blood gushed out as he released his grip on Mira and slowly crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
The remaining slavers froze, their faces pale with fear. "W-what the hell?!" One of them stammered, backing away. "What is he?!"
Zoran turned to them, his expression devoid of any emotion. His green eyes, once dull and weary, now burned with an icy fury that sent chills down their spine.
One of the slavers broke down, screaming as he tried to run. But he didn't make it far. Zoran moved faster than they could track, cutting him down with ruthless efficiency.
The remaining two slavers dropped their weapons and fell to their knees, kowtowing and begging for mercy. "P-please!" One of them cried. "We'll leave! You'll never see us again! Please spare us!"
Zoran's gaze didn't waver. He raised his arms, his dagger glinting in the dim light.
"No," Zoran replied, his voice a deadly whisper. "Your mistakes end here."
The final slaver let out a choked grasp as Zoran's blade sliced cleanly through his throat. The forest fell silent once more, the only sound the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze, and the drops of blood trickling down from his dagger.