Chapter 5
Adelaide sat by the campfire, her movements restricted by the ropes biting into her wrists. She shifted uncomfortably, her tear-streaked face stinging and her shoulder aching. “Asshole…” she muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible. She glanced to her side, where the man who had discovered her sat flipping a knife in the air, catching it with practiced ease. His steel-gray eyes locked onto hers, unwavering. Embarrassed, Adelaide quickly turned her gaze forward.
Her eyes landed on him—the one who had nearly killed her. He was speaking to the archer, his hand resting on her shoulder, his fingers brushing hers. The archer responded softly, her words seeming to ease the worry etched into his face. Disgust churned in Adelaide’s stomach at the sight. She turned away, pulling her knees up and resting her head on them, shielding herself from the scene.
The fighter sat nearby, tending to the campfire. His golden eyes reflected the dancing flames as sparks spiraled into the night sky. He didn’t look at her, but Adelaide could feel his awareness. He was the only reason she was still alive, and for that, she felt a reluctant gratitude. The smoke stung her eyes, and exhaustion weighed heavily on her. She closed her eyes, seeking a moment of reprieve.
The question echoed in her mind as she replayed the events that had led her here.
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She remembered being knocked down by the man with the knives. The fighter and archer, startled by her sudden appearance, had started toward her, but the man in the dark cloak shouted something that froze them in their tracks. They exchanged glances, then turned their attention back to the fallen monstrosity, resuming their grim task of hacking away at its body.
Adelaide’s cloak was yanked from her shoulders, the sudden loss of warmth making her shiver. Knife-jerk worked methodically, cutting away her makeshift belt and tossing it aside along with her cloak. He tied her wrists together with practiced efficiency. Feeling a pang of hopelessness, Adelaide chose not to resist, hoping cooperation might ensure her survival. “Hey, can you tie that more gently? That’s kind of tight,” she asked, glancing over her shoulder. Her words fell on deaf ears as the man continued his work in silence.
Discouraged, Adelaide’s gaze shifted to the duo. A deep sense of regret took hold as she watched them desecrate the creature’s remains. The fighter’s sword, glowing with a golden aura, cleaved through the beast’s horns effortlessly, each swing precise. Meanwhile, the archer produced a concealed bowie knife, driving it into the snake’s tail and extracting an oval-shaped mass from its maw. Adelaide’s stomach churned as nausea crept in, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away.
The fighter sheathed his sword and pulled a knife from the small of his back. With methodical precision, he began to remove the lion head’s eyes, moving swiftly to the other heads. Each grisly prize was delivered to the man in the dark robe, who documented them in a small book before placing them into the knapsack at his side. Their movements were seamless, practiced—something that, despite herself, Adelaide found quietly impressive.
As they worked, something extraordinary happened. The wounds on the creature, even its open mouths, began to leak—not blood, but light. Adelaide blinked, her mind struggling to reconcile what she was seeing. Tiny orbs of luminescence floated from the monstrosity, rising like ethereal sparks into the night sky. The archer and fighter quickened their pace, their movements suddenly more urgent. Adelaide’s curiosity ignited. she wondered, her focus locked on the glowing motes as they drifted upward and faded, merging with the darkness. They were beautiful, almost hypnotic, yet their mystery left an edge of unease.
Her attention snapped back to the duo. The lights didn’t just rise—they moved, too, drifting sideways toward the group. Adelaide held her breath, anticipation coiled tightly in her chest. If these motes were dangerous, she would soon know. Yet, as the lights made contact with each of them, nothing happened. The motes dimmed and vanished, absorbed into their forms.
Adelaide’s eyes widened as she noticed a strange pattern. Each mote seemed to be drawn to a jewel. The fighter wore a necklace with a radiant yellow gem, while the archer’s cloak-pin, shaped like a purple leaf, flickered faintly. The man in the dark robe held a blue jewel, tethered to his belt with a silver chain. Even the gray jewel on Knife-jerk’s leather bracer emitted a soft glow whenever a mote touched it.
Then, something unexpected occurred. A solitary mote drifted toward her, moving lazily across the campfire’s flickering light. She froze, transfixed, as it brushed against her chest and disappeared into the fabric of her shirt. A faint pink glow spread outward from the point of contact, and Adelaide’s breath caught. She wasn’t the only one who noticed.
Knife-jerk’s sharp eyes had tracked the entire event. He barked an incomprehensible command, halting the duo mid-action. Without hesitation, he stomped toward her, his expression unreadable. Before Adelaide could react, he pressed his hand to her chest, directly where the mote had vanished.
“HEY!!” Adelaide shouted, her voice ringing with fury. She lashed out instinctively, kicking him in the shin and twisting her body away. “Back off, pervert!” she spat, venom lacing her words.
Her attack barely registered. Knife-jerk’s face reddened, but he remained unshaken. Gripping her shoulders, he forced her to face him, his cold gray eyes boring into hers with a look that sent shivers down her spine. He barked something over his shoulder, summoning the archer, who soon appeared at his side. The two exchanged hurried words, their urgency unmistakable. The man took a deliberate step back, his piercing gaze never leaving Adelaide. He folded his arms, his stance rigid and authoritative, as though silently commanding her compliance. The archer knelt in front of Adelaide, her movements careful, her expression softened by curiosity.
The woman spoke softly to Adelaide, her tone laced with curiosity. It sounded like a question, but Adelaide hesitated. “I… I don’t,” she stammered, “I don’t understand.” Confusion clouded the woman’s face as she turned back to the man, who simply shrugged in response. She refocused on Adelaide, undeterred.
Another mote drifted into the woman’s cloak pin, igniting a gentle purple glow. She tapped the jewel and repeated her question, this time more deliberately, her words slower. “I’m sorry, but saying it slower won’t help,” Adelaide sighed, shaking her head. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
A mote of light entered the jerk’s gray bracer, and the archer’s eyes followed the faint glow. She gestured toward it and repeated the same unfamiliar word again. Frustrated, Adelaide decided to mimic her. “Z-zyn…ah…r-rith?” she stumbled over the syllables, feeling the foreign word on her lips for the first time.
The archer’s expression brightened, excitement flickering in her eyes. She repeated the word more quickly, gesturing between her own cloak pin and the gray bracer. As another mote passed by, drifting lazily toward Adelaide, her focus sharpened. The light touched her chest, disappearing into her shirt, and she noticed the archer’s expectant gaze. With unwavering purpose, the woman pointed at Adelaide’s chest and said the word one final time.
Understanding dawned on Adelaide. Her eyes darted downward, catching the faint pink glow where the mote had vanished. The light faded slowly as time passed. She met the archer’s gaze, nodded, and—feeling heat rise to her cheeks—awkwardly puffed her chest toward the woman. The gesture made her blush, but it had the intended effect.
The archer’s movements were delicate as she untied Adelaide’s shirt collar, letting the fabric slip past her collarbones. She carefully reached in, fishing out the chain hidden beneath Adelaide’s shirt, and lifted the pink pendant from its hiding place. After studying it briefly, the archer released the pendant, allowing it to fall gently back against Adelaide’s chest. A small smile softened her face before she stood and turned toward Knife-jerk. His gaze hadn’t shifted; it remained fixed on Adelaide.
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The two exchanged a few quick words before calling over the others. Adelaide shifted her focus to the fallen beast. The fighter seemed to have completed his gruesome work, harvesting whatever it was they sought from the creature’s body. Yet, despite the group’s efforts, the monster continued to leak motes of light.
Adelaide’s breath caught at an unsettling sight—the beast was less solid than before. Its form began to distort, fading just enough that she could make out the tree standing behind it, visible through the translucent remains. A glowing orb pulsed rhythmically within the creature’s chest, drawing her attention. The light absorbed far more motes than it released, as if pulling in the very essence of the beast.
Her eyes remained locked on the phenomenon, entranced, until the appearance of the other two men broke her line of sight.
Adelaide lifted her gaze from the ground, her eyes meeting the fighter’s. He stared down at her, his expression unreadable, though his tone carried a sharp edge as he spoke. She couldn’t understand his words, but the anger in them was unmistakable. Knife-jerk scoffed loudly, throwing a dismissive remark at the fighter, who responded with equal intensity. With a shrug, Knife-jerk turned away, distancing himself from the group as if washing his hands of the situation. Adelaide watched him lean against a nearby tree, pulling a knife from the strap on his thigh and casually cleaning under his nails, his indifference palpable.
Suddenly, Adelaide was shoved backward. The force sent her sprawling, her wrists twisting painfully beneath her as the ropes binding them refused to give. A sharp cry escaped her lips as pain shot up her arm, settling in her shoulder like fire. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked up at the three figures still standing nearby.
The fighter’s arm was raised, blocking her from the man in the dark robe. Their voices clashed in heated shouts, the robed man gesturing furiously past the fighter’s arm, his finger aimed directly at Adelaide. Sparks flickered at his fingertips, crackling ominously in the dim light.
Adelaide’s heart sank, her body turning cold as dread washed over her. The thought gripped her, paralyzing her as she stared at the robed man’s sparking hand. A tear slid down her cheek, but she didn’t blink it away. She couldn’t. This might be the last thing she ever saw.
The woman’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. She grabbed the robed man’s wrist, forcing his gaze to shift toward her. His eyes burned with anger as he snapped something at her, his words harsh and biting. She didn’t back down, her own voice rising in defiance. Their argument escalated, the air between them crackling with tension.
The fighter seized the moment, stepping squarely in front of Adelaide. His broad frame became a shield, blocking her from the robed man’s view—and vice versa. The shouting continued, voices clashing like steel on steel, each word sharpening the hostility in the air.
Adelaide’s fear began to ebb, replaced by a simmering anger that bubbled to the surface. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as her frustration grew. She had fought so hard to survive—the lake, the cabin, the forest. Every trial, every danger, she had faced head-on. And now, this man, this stranger, had decided she didn’t deserve to live?
Her chest heaved with the weight of her fury, her mind racing with indignation. The thought burned in her, igniting a fire that refused to be extinguished.
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“…fuck you…” Adelaide muttered under her breath, her face twisting in disgust. The fighter’s arms lowered slightly as he turned to face her, allowing her and the robed man to lock eyes once more. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she glared at him, her voice trembling with emotion. “You don’t even know me! I’ve done nothing to you!” she spat, her words sharp and defiant.
The robed man’s fists clenched tightly at his sides, sparks flickering through the gaps in his fingers. The archer struggled to hold him back, her grip firm but strained. His glare burned into Adelaide, his fury palpable.
“I’ve done nothing! Don’t you understand? Nothing!” Adelaide’s voice rose, desperation mingling with anger. Her chest heaved as she shouted at him, her emotions spilling over. “You can’t just kill an innocent person! You’re a psychopath! An absolute psycho, you blue-sparkly fuck!”
Adelaide panted, her breaths shallow and angry. Her glare bore into the robed man, the air between them charged with unspoken fury. Sparks seemed to crackle in the space they shared. A sudden chuckle broke the tension, pulling her attention to the side. Her head snapped toward the sound.
Knife-jerk approached the group, his laughter cutting through the heavy atmosphere. The robed man’s head whipped toward him, his voice rising in a sharp shout. Knife-jerk merely shrugged, his expression maddeningly casual, and muttered something under his breath. The robed man’s patience snapped—a bolt of energy shot from his hand, crackling toward Knife-jerk.
Adelaide froze, her heart pounding. The thought gripped her, but before she could process it, laughter rang out again—this time from the robed man’s direction. Her eyes widened in disbelief. Knife-jerk was there, impossibly fast, his blade pressed against the robed man’s throat.
A gasp escaped her lips.
Knife-jerk leaned in, whispering something too low for her to hear. His knife lingered for a moment longer before he pulled it away, stepping back with a smirk that sent a chill down her spine. Without a word, he returned to the tree he had leaned against moments before, as if nothing had happened.
Adelaide’s thoughts raced as she tracked his movements, her mind struggling to reconcile what she had just witnessed.
The fighter’s voice broke through her daze, drawing her focus. He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around the robed man and the archer, guiding them away from Adelaide. They moved toward the edge of the clearing, near the carcass of the fallen monster. The fighter spoke to the robed man, his tone firm but measured, and patted his shoulder. After exchanging a nod with the archer, he turned and began making his way back toward Adelaide.
She watched him approach, her gaze wary and unyielding. His golden eyes met hers, and he raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. A faint, disarming smile played on his lips as he murmured something in a soothing tone, reaching out cautiously. Adelaide flinched instinctively, distrust flaring in her chest. His hands rose again, palms open, his voice growing softer—a melody of calm meant to ease her wariness.
Her eyes darted between his hands and his face, her breath shallow. He maintained his gentle smile, an expression brimming with careful patience. She hesitated, her muscles tense, before finally allowing him to close the distance. As his hands reached her, she braced herself—but to her surprise, he merely helped her sit upright, his movements deliberate and unthreatening.
“Th-thank you…” she whispered, her voice catching in her throat as she adjusted her posture to ease the strain. The words spilled out more from habit than expectation—she doubted he understood her, but politeness demanded she express her gratitude.
He straightened, nodding at her with a look that almost seemed like understanding, before stepping away to settle near the campfire.
Adelaide sniffled quietly, curling her body down as best she could with her hands bound behind her back. Her exhaustion was an insistent weight, pulling at her limbs. “I didn’t even do anything…” she murmured to herself, sadness pooling in her chest. As she shifted, her pink pendant slipped out of sight, though its deeper, more vivid glow caught her attention for a fleeting moment.
A shiver ran through her. The fire’s heat reached her in whispers, failing to banish the lingering chill. She longed desperately for her cloak, its comforting embrace a memory just out of reach.
Then, warmth returned. She blinked, glancing upward from the glow of the campfire to find him hovering over her once more. The soft light of the flames highlighted the blush dusting his cheeks as he draped the cloak across her shoulders with careful, deliberate hands. He said something, his voice a murmur she couldn’t comprehend, and then retreated back to his seat by the fire.
“Thanks,” she mumbled toward him, lowering her head to rest against the hard ground. Sleep was no kinder to her with her hands tied behind her back, but exhaustion was a relentless force. Despite the discomfort, it pulled her into a restless slumber at last.
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Adelaide sniffled quietly, curling her body down as best she could with her hands bound behind her back. Her exhaustion was an insistent weight, pulling at her limbs. “I didn’t even do anything…” she murmured to herself, sadness pooling in her chest. As she shifted, her pink pendant slipped out of sight, though its deeper, more vivid glow caught her attention for a fleeting moment.
A shiver ran through her. The fire’s heat reached her in whispers, failing to banish the lingering chill. She longed desperately for her cloak, its comforting embrace a memory just out of reach.
Then, warmth returned. She blinked, glancing upward from the glow of the campfire to find him hovering over her once more. The soft light of the flames highlighted the blush dusting his cheeks as he draped the cloak across her shoulders with careful, deliberate hands. He said something, his voice a murmur she couldn’t comprehend, and then retreated back to his seat by the fire.
“Thanks,” she mumbled toward him, lowering her head to rest against the hard ground. Sleep was no kinder to her with her hands tied behind her back, but exhaustion was a relentless force. Despite the warmth of the cloak, the chill of uncertainty lingered. Sleep came for her, restless and full of shadows.
