Day 1
At the break of dawn, with mist still clinging to the leaves, Aerax opened his eyes. Naked beneath the pale shafts of sunlight piercing through the forest canopy, he sat up with a shiver. The wound on his shoulder — where Elion's divine spear had pierced him — still glowed a deep, smoldering red, blistered and throbbing as though something alive writhed beneath the skin. But he did not cry out. Pain was not something he was accustomed to voicing.
Nearby, Minoros was folding a hide into a neat bundle, while Leos stretched delicately, binding the golden chains tighter around his wrists. Neither of them noticed Aerax had woken until his voice cut the silence.
"How long… was I out?"
Minoros turned with a faint smile. "Two days. The sun has risen and fallen twice since I carried you out of the cavern."
Aerax nodded, forcing himself upright. Every joint burned as though hot coals were pressed into his flesh. But there was no time for complaint. No time for rest.
"We must return to Neosis," Minoros said. "There's no other way. And Prince Leos must be taken back safely."
Aerax glanced at the prince. Leos no longer looked radiant as he had when they first met. His platinum fur was dulled with dust, his eyes heavy with fatigue, every step leaving a trace of blood from his chained wrists. Yet he made no protest, nor did he request a pause. He simply walked in silence.
And so they set out, pushing deeper into the forest. No mounts. No wagon. Only their bare feet and the narrow dirt track winding through ancient trees. The canopy above was so thick it swallowed the sky, leaving only fractured beams of light spilling onto the muddy path, tangled with roots.
Day 2
Aerax's wound left him limping. Every gust of wind across his shoulder brought a burning pain sharp enough to make him grit his teeth. Sometimes his vision swam, but still he followed behind Minoros's heavy stride, behind Leos's dragging, weary steps.
Minoros carried the last bundle of dried meat. They rationed it carefully, eating just enough to endure. Water came from the streams they found along the way. Leos, though chained, maintained his princely composure. Each night, he lay a little apart from the fire, curled beneath a hide, eyes closed but ears keen to the sounds of the forest.
Aerax grew used to the sound of chains striking stone. A steady rhythm — mournful, unyielding. Each clang was a reminder that the prince remained bound, both in body and in destiny.
Day 3
Rain fell. Heavy forest rain that turned the ground to slick clay. Twice, Leos slipped and bloodied his knees. At last, Aerax could not bear to watch. He lifted Leos onto his back, carrying him for a long stretch of the road. Each step sent daggers of pain through his wounded shoulder, but he bore it in silence, teeth clenched.
Minoros found a shallow rock overhang where they could shelter. They lit a smoky fire in the damp air. Aerax said nothing, letting the flames warm his soaked back. The red scar on his shoulder had spread across his chest now, like some cursed brand.
Leos studied him, for the first time, without his usual distance. "Thank you… for carrying me," he said softly.
"It is my duty to see you safe," Aerax answered.
Day 4
The forest thinned. Trees shrank low, the wind grew dry, and dust scoured the air. They stepped into a barren land — half desert, half wasteland. The sun blazed, and the earth cracked red beneath their feet. No more streams. Only small hollows in the stone where rainwater lingered.
Minoros led them, pausing at times to gauge the sun. "Two more days, if we do not lose our way," he said.
Aerax gave no reply. He had no strength left for words. Each morning, his wound grew darker, deeper. Yet he revealed nothing. Leos, watching quietly, sensed in him not weakness, but a kind of relentless will.
Day 5
The wind carried the scent of salt. They knew Neosis was near. But Aerax's body betrayed him — fever rose, breath came heavy, his vision blurred. Seeing this, Leos asked to take his place. He told Minoros to carry Aerax for a while.
Minoros raised a brow in surprise, then smiled. They switched roles. For hours, Leos walked without complaint, though the golden chains bit deep into his wrists. His stride was weary, yet his gaze remained proud.
That night, they found a hollow at the base of a cliff, a deep stone pocket where they could sleep. The sea wind whistled through, bringing with it a chill. Minoros divided the last of their water among themselves in equal shares. Aerax sipped slowly, eyelids heavy, body trembling.
Day 6
By afternoon, from the crest of a dusty hill, they saw it — the stone road leading to the southern gate of Neosis. Beyond rose towering walls, banners snapping in the wind. From afar, caravans and patrols looked no bigger than ants crawling at the foot of a mountain.
They stopped and gazed down. All three were spent, hollowed by the journey. Yet none spoke of turning back. Aerax clenched his fist. The crimson brand on his shoulder had now spread to his waist, but still he stood. His eyes fixed on the city, lit by a new fire — hope, mingled with caution.
Minoros nodded quietly. "We are close now."
And so they walked on. Not quickly, not hurried, but without pause. Their three shadows stretched across the red road, left behind with every step — a trail marked by blood, sweat, and the fragile belief that their sacrifices would not be in vain.
It was the sixth day — the final day of their return.