The light of the torch revealed the vast underground area through which Loren, Ryoken, and Salamandra advanced. The priestess, shorter in stature, led the group with quiet confidence until they reached a wide stone chamber. There, she indicated the place where he had been left.
At the far end, there was a motionless body. Ryoken crossed the space without hesitation, while several natives tried to reach him with fists and nails, restrained by the invisible barrier of the prison. As he drew closer, he immediately recognized who lay before him. The one who had once been known for his strength was now reduced to a disturbing state.
He crouched down, extending his hand until it nearly touched the chest of the inert body. Loren tried to warn him, but the instant his fingers brushed the skin, a grotesque mouth opened in the man's chest, trying to devour his hand. Ryoken recoiled swiftly, narrowly protecting his limb.
Salamandra approached at once, her expression rigid, wanting to know if he had been injured. Ryoken reassured her, stating that he had suffered no wounds. Loren joined them shortly afterward, keeping her hands resting in front of her body.
Turning to the priestess, Salamandra sought information about the physical condition of that man's adopted daughters. Loren cleared her throat before answering, taking on a darker tone as she explained that the situation was delicate. Despite the violence of the confrontation, Shaphira had endured relatively well, however her ears had suffered irreversible damage after the scream that had echoed throughout the region. Depending on how things progressed, there was a possibility that she might never hear again.
The statement caused the weight of concern to settle in the hearts of the two leaders. Ryoken stepped forward, showing anxiety as he asked about Elisa. Loren explained that although the general showed no significant physical injuries, her pain was mental in nature. The loss of consciousness had triggered a severe nervous breakdown, capable of compromising her emotions and reasoning from that point onward.
The moment was heavy for everyone. Loren placed a hand over her chest and requested to be granted responsibility for the care of the two sisters. She also asked that some men be assigned to guard the place, in case there were any sign of Slady awakening.
Salamandra showed curiosity at the need for so many soldiers to contain only one man. Loren, assuming a firm posture, made it clear that that being was more dangerous than they could understand and that she did not intend to risk a possible escape.
Accepting the priestess's warning, Ryoken and Salamandra agreed to choose the most reliable natives to maintain surveillance of the underground prison. Then, Ryoken officially authorized Loren to take responsibility for the care of the two sisters.
Some time later, when the torches began to go out and the prisoners started to grumble in the darkness, Loren was the last to leave the chamber. Before departing, she held her gaze for a few moments on the inactive body, imagining all the questions she still wished to ask that man.
With her departure, silence and darkness took over the place.
Later, in a humble house where the two slept, Loren entered to find a caretaker tending to them properly. The woman noticed her, offering a smile and a friendly wave, asking what she could do for the priestess. Loren shook her head in refusal and requested a moment alone. Without hesitation, the caretaker withdrew, while Loren sat on a chair between the improvised beds.
Her fingers clenched together at the knuckles, her heart pounding painfully as she saw them so vulnerable. Then, moving her hands to her chest, her voice emerged in a murmur. Her prayer asked for protection and care from the divinity beyond the heavens for the two of them, each word an honest plea from her heart.
When she finished her prayer, she dipped her fingers into a graceful liquid, wrapping them around a cross. Raising it above their chests, she poured the liquid over them, believing it would place them under the protection of the god she believed in.
And in a certain way, the skin of their chests absorbed the liquid, their breathing flowing through their nostrils in a softer manner, almost intentional. Satisfied with the result, she rose from her seat and bade them farewell, wishing that Zyrionq would heal all the wounds that had scarred such deeply injured souls.
At night, positioned in a resting stance, a man, along with others of his kind, observed the shadows of the trees analytically, like patient hunters waiting for the sudden movement of prey. Suddenly, the sound of rustling leaves became something distorted, not from the direction of the forest...
but from the underground.
Commanding them to stay alert behind him, the most experienced one entered the prison. Of course, the prisoners begged for freedom, claimed to be innocent. But beside their barriers were written all the proofs of crimes so vile that they would make even a brave man feel nauseated.
But the most frightening factor of all...
was the silent disappearance of a certain "inert" body.
Footsteps echoed in the darkness of the night. Elisa and Shaphira, unprotected, could not know who stood before them. With a firm knock on the doorframe, a man entered, taking slow steps toward the beds. His closed eyes were fixed on their faces, one hand moving to their cheeks, caressing them with an almost familiar delicacy.
He crouched down, the old, dark fabric covering below his waist dragging across the ground. His mouth hesitated before speaking, his voice dragging itself from his throat. There were not many words, only the acknowledgment of all the mistakes he had made in life, and especially with them.
And now, even if it cost him his life, he would pay for every sin he had committed. This was not for him, not for anyone,
it was exclusively for them.
Even if, in the near future, he became something that could hardly be called... human, he begged that they would not feel guilty for his fate.
He did not deserve their suffering.
He was unworthy of any feeling of mercy they might feel for him.
He was unworthy of having them, of ever having been able to call them daughters, even though they had never shared his rotten blood.
And in that moment, without waiting another second, he said his farewell, declaring that even if there were doubts about his feelings toward them...
the truth was absolute, he loved them with all his heart.
Then he turned away, disappearing into the darkness of the forest. The only hand he had left gathered a significant number of leaves, shaping them over his palm and thus covering his eyes with a new blindfold.
With his feet leaving the sands of a natural bridge and stepping onto the snow that covered them, he reached his destination.
A temple.