Rafael watched silently as the guards dragged Malrek down the dim hallway, the boy's shaky breaths echoing against the stone. Rafael kept his posture calm, but inside, a storm churned. Execution. Public execution. That was not part of the plan.
He forced his fists to unclench and turned toward the exit. But before he could take a single step, a figure moved into his path. It was the girl—brown hair cascading down her shoulders, green eyes fixed sharply on him. She approached with a mix of caution and curiosity.
Rafael tensed. He kept his hood low, cloak masking half his face. His blue eyes, however, met hers directly. "I'm Sophia," she said quietly. "What's your name?"
Rafael hesitated. Too long. She raised a brow. "…Rafael," he finally answered, voice low. She smiled softly.
"What do you want?" he asked, more sharply than intended. "To thank you," she said simply. For a moment, he froze. In his past life, gratitude was a stranger. No one had ever thanked him—not sincerely. Not even once. He stared at her, unsure how to respond.
"I was terrified yesterday," she continued. "I thought I was going to die. But you… you saved me. I owe you my life."
Rafael's tongue felt heavy. He had no idea how to process the warmth in her voice.
"You're welcome," he forced out.
But she wasn't done. "I want to repay you somehow," Sophia insisted.
"That's not necessary," Rafael muttered, trying to step around her again. She followed him out the door, matching every step.
"I insist!" He stopped, sighed, and finally gave in—just to get her off his back.
"Fine," he said. "If you really want to repay me… tell me where I can get medicine. Something strong. Something that can cure a disease no doctor here understands."
He didn't mention his mother. He didn't have to. The desperation in his tone slipped through for the first time. Sophia's expression softened. She thought long and hard. "…There is someone," she said finally. "A doctor from the main city province. He's… different. Skilled. He might be able to help."
"I don't need another useless village doctor," Rafael replied flatly. "He's not from this village," she said firmly. "He's real. And he's good."
Rafael considered her. If there was even a chance… "Fine," he said. "We'll meet in three days. Then we go to him." Sophia nodded, relieved. "Three days. I'll be ready." She smiled, genuinely, and waved as she turned to leave. "Goodnight, Rafael." Rafael watched her disappear into the night.
He hurried home. Inside, the house was silent.
Sara lay motionless—her breathing shallow, her eyes closed. She had slipped further, deeper, into the coma. Her skin was paler than ever. Rafael knelt beside her bed.
"I'll fix this," he whispered. "I swear it."
He covered her gently with a blanket, tucking the edges around her frail body as if the fabric alone could protect her from death. For a long moment he stood there, listening to the faint, uneven breaths she managed to draw. It twisted something deep inside him.
Eventually, exhausted, Rafael settled down beside the dying fire. The embers cast a weak, flickering glow across the room. Sleep crept over him like a slow tide, but his mind refused to quiet. All he could think about was Malrek. How was he going to save him? Should he even try?
The thought he had been avoiding all day finally surfaced, ugly and honest. It might be easier—smarter—to let Malrek die. The bounty was already in his hands. No one suspected him. If he walked away now, the coins would be his alone.
No risky jailbreak.No danger.No loose ends.
A clean, simple solution.
And why not? Malrek was a thief, a troublemaker, someone he had met only by chance. Saving him meant risking everything—for what? A promise? A plan they barely had time to finish?
Rafael stared into the dimming fire, jaw clenched. Part of him wanted to abandon Malrek.And for a moment… that part of him almost won.
High noon burned over the village square.
Malrek was dragged out by two guards, half-dressed, wrists bound, rope biting into his skin. They tied him to a thick wooden pole at the center of the square. A jeering crowd had already gathered. Children threw pebbles. Drunk men hurled stones. Someone spat.
Malrek clenched his teeth, trying not to scream. His eyes darted through the faces—desperate for a glimpse of Rafael. Nothing. The chief strutted onto the raised platform like a rooster, grinning ear to ear.
"Villagers!" he shouted, arms raised high. "Today we rid ourselves of a plague. A thief. A murderer. A menace!" He pointed dramatically at Malrek.
"This boy attacked this very village twice! I will protect you all—and that begins with eliminating filth like him!" The crowd roared in agreement.
Malrek swallowed hard. The executioner approached—an enormous man with a hood, muscles rippling as he lifted a heavy axe. He took position behind Malrek, testing the weight of the blade. Malrek's throat tightened. He scanned the crowd one last time. Where is he…? Rafael… where are you? There was no sign. Malrek exhaled shakily. I curse the day I was born… and the day I met that bastard Rafael. The executioner raised the axe. And then— WHOOOOM—
A violent gust of wind tore through the square.
Dust exploded upward in a swirling cloud. People stumbled, shielding their faces. Hats flew. Cloaks whipped. Screams erupted as debris danced in the blinding storm.
In the chaos, no one saw the cloaked figure shoot forward—moving like a shadow cut loose from the earth. The executioner's eyes widened— SHHK! —and his body fell lifelessly to the side, throat cut clean. The figure slashed through Malrek's ropes in one whip-crack motion. Malrek blinked, stunned, as the figure grabbed him by the waist and hoisted him over a shoulder.
"W–who—?!" Malrek choked, but the wind drowned his voice.
The cloaked figure vanished into the storm. By the time the dust settled and the wind died, the square fell into stunned silence. The executioner lay dead. The pole stood empty. Malrek was gone.
The chief's face turned crimson with rage.
"FIND HIM!" he screamed. "FIND HIM NOW!" Guards scrambled in every direction.
Meanwhile, in a narrow alley behind the baker's shop… The cloaked figure gently set Malrek down. Malrek coughed, eyes watering, still shaking. The figure removed his hood.
Rafael's blue eyes met his. "You—!" Malrek gasped, pointing a trembling finger. "Y–YOU TOOK YOUR SWEET TIME!" Rafael smirked just slightly. "Yeah. Sorry about that."