Ashes of Victory
Smoke and ash still clung to the air as Seren struggled to steady her breath. The explosion had obliterated their supplies, leaving them wounded and stranded in the depths of an unfamiliar forest. She turned to the woman slumped beside her—Sir Elara, one of the knights assigned to her protection. Blood soaked through Elara's tunic, her breaths ragged and shallow. The explosion had thrown them both off their feet, but Elara had taken the brunt of it, shielding Seren at the last second.
"Stay with me," Seren urged, pressing her hands against the wound.
Elara grunted. "I've had worse."
That was a lie. Seren could tell.
"We need shelter," said Lira, scanning the surroundings. She was the group's healer, but even now, Seren could see the exhaustion in her face. She was skilled at both healing magic and physical buffs, but the battle had drained her, and they had no potions left. "I—I can try a minor spell, but I don't know if I have the energy."
"You need to conserve your strength," said another knight, Riven, adjusting the crossbow strapped to her back. She had kept watch while they fought, taking out key threats from a distance, but now they were all equally worn down. "We need supplies, shelter—fast."
Nia, the fifth member of their group and a scout, had already moved a few paces ahead, her sharp eyes scanning the surroundings. "We can't stay here. That explosion might have drawn attention. If there are more of them, we're sitting targets."
Seren clenched her fists, frustration bubbling beneath her exhaustion. This mission had been designed to test her abilities, to prove her worth not just as royalty but as a capable leader. The palace had trusted her with this task—tracking and eliminating the notorious bandit, Garrick the Blackfang. The woman had been a menace, terrorizing villages and trade routes.
The fight against Garrick had been brutal. The bandit leader had been stronger than expected, wielding both a wickedly sharp blade and dark magic. Her band had fought fiercely, but in the end, Seren and her knights had cut them down one by one. Seren had faced Garrick directly, their swords clashing in a flurry of sparks and steel. The bandit had grinned even as she was backed into a corner, blood dripping from a gash on her arm.
"You think this is victory?" Garrick had spat, her eyes burning with something unhinged. "Royalty like you never understand. We always have the last laugh."
Before Seren could react, the bandit had slammed her hand against the ground. Runes flared to life beneath her, a hastily drawn magic circle glowing with eerie light. The explosion that followed had been instantaneous. The force sent Seren flying, the heat searing her skin. The world spun as she hit the ground, and when the smoke cleared, Garrick was nothing more than a scorched corpse—her final spiteful act ensuring the princess and her knights suffered alongside her.
Their supplies had been destroyed in the blast. Their healer was spent. One of her knights was gravely wounded. And now they were lost in an unknown part of the forest, vulnerable.
Seren had just begun to steel herself when movement in the distance caught her attention. A rustle of leaves, a flicker of motion between the trees. They all tensed, hands moving instinctively to weapons, expecting another enemy.
But what stepped into view was not a threat—at least, not in the way they anticipated.
A boy.
He looked no older than twelve, his clothes worn, his posture relaxed in a way that spoke of familiarity with the wilderness. His sharp gaze swept over them, lingering briefly on Elara's wound before shifting to the remains of their destroyed supplies. He didn't say anything at first, just exhaled through his nose in a way that almost sounded like amusement.
The princess and her knights were trained warriors, and yet, in that moment, all they could do was stare at him in disbelief.
A boy? Living out here? Alone?
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An Unexpected Encounter
For a long moment, silence stretched between them. The boy met their stunned gazes without a hint of fear, his expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh that seemed far too weary for someone his age, he finally spoke.
"You look like hell."
Seren blinked. That was not the reaction she had expected.
Lira, despite her exhaustion, let out a huff of laughter before wincing at the strain. Riven, ever cautious, kept her hand close to her crossbow. Elara, still slumped against the tree, barely reacted, too focused on breathing through the pain.
Nia narrowed her eyes. "Who are you? What are you doing out here alone?"
The boy tilted his head. "I live here."
Seren studied him carefully. His clothes were simple, slightly tattered but well-worn in a way that suggested long use rather than neglect. He held himself with the ease of someone accustomed to surviving in the wild, yet there was no aggression in his stance. If anything, he seemed… indifferent.
Lira spoke up, voice strained. "You live out here? Alone?"
The boy shrugged. "Pretty much."
A beat of silence. The knights exchanged glances.
There was something unsettling about this whole situation. A lone boy in the middle of the forest? Their instincts screamed that something was off. A trap, perhaps? Had they been found by the remnants of Garrick's gang? But the boy didn't fit the image of a bandit. He was too young, too at ease.
Riven's grip tightened on her crossbow. "You expect us to believe that? A kid, living out here all alone?"
The boy sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "Believe whatever you want. Doesn't change the fact that you're in my territory."
Seren tensed. His territory?
It wasn't the words themselves but the way he said them—like it was a simple fact, not a boast or a threat. Like he knew these woods better than anyone. And maybe he did.
Lira shook her head. "Look, kid, we don't mean trouble. We just... had a rough night."
The boy's gaze flickered to Elara, taking in her bloodied form. He exhaled sharply, then reached into a small pouch at his waist and tossed something toward Seren. She caught it instinctively—a bundle of herbs, neatly wrapped in cloth.
"That should help."
Seren hesitated before unwrapping the bundle. Her eyes widened slightly. These weren't ordinary herbs. They were rare, potent medicinal plants—ones that only grew in dangerous parts of the forest. The kind that could mean the difference between life and death.
"How did you get these?" she asked warily.
The boy smirked. "I have my ways."
Another pause. Another exchange of glances. None of them quite knew what to make of this strange encounter. The boy wasn't acting like a lost child. He wasn't frightened, wasn't begging for help or company. If anything, he seemed... bored.
And that, more than anything, set them on edge.
Seren exhaled slowly, tightening her grip on the herbs. "Alright. If you're offering help, then we won't refuse. But let's be clear—we're not a threat to you, and we expect the same in return."
The boy shrugged. "Fine by me. Just don't mess with my stuff."
Seren gave a small nod and turned to her group. "Let's get Elara stabilized."
As they worked, she couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter was far from over.
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Shelter in the Wild
Elara's breathing was still uneven, but the herbs seemed to help. Lira, though exhausted, managed to apply them properly, her hands steady despite the strain. The scent of crushed leaves mixed with the lingering ash and blood in the air, a bitter reminder of their situation.
The boy stood a few paces away, his posture relaxed yet watchful. He wasn't fidgeting, wasn't nervous. If anything, he looked vaguely bored, as though their presence was an inconvenience rather than a concern.
Seren studied him. He was young, but there was something unsettling about the way he carried himself—self-assured, wary, and entirely too comfortable in the middle of the wilderness. She couldn't decide if he was dangerous or just peculiar.
She exhaled. "We need shelter. Do you know a place nearby?"
The boy met her gaze, considering her words for a moment before he finally shrugged. "You can use my hut for shelter too. Just… don't mess with my stuff."
A pause. The knights exchanged looks, the tension between them shifting. Surprise. Uncertainty. Caution.
Riven raised an eyebrow. "You live out here?"
The boy shook his head. "I live with my parents."
The words landed heavily in the quiet. Seren didn't miss the way her knights reacted—slight stiffening of shoulders, shared glances, silent questions flashing between them. If he had parents, why hadn't they appeared? Why wasn't there any sign of them?
Nia hesitated before speaking. "Then… will they mind us staying here?"
The boy's expression didn't change. "Nope."
No explanation. No elaboration. Just that simple, flat response before he turned on his heel and started walking, expecting them to follow.
Seren hesitated, her instincts prickling at the back of her mind. But what choice did they have? With Elara injured and Lira barely standing, they couldn't afford to be picky.
Wordlessly, she motioned for her knights to move. They fell in step behind the boy, their weapons kept close—not drawn, but ready.
The forest swallowed them in silence as they walked. The air felt heavier here, the thick canopy above casting deep shadows over the uneven ground. The boy moved effortlessly, stepping over roots and ducking beneath branches as though he'd done it a thousand times before. The knights, despite their training, weren't as fluid. They were on edge, their eyes flicking between the trees, scanning for signs of danger.
As they walked, Seren caught herself observing him. His clothes were worn but well-kept, not tattered rags like a lost child's. He walked with confidence, but not arrogance. There was no hesitation in his steps. He knew this forest like it was a part of him.
That thought unsettled her.
Eventually, through the shifting trees, a small structure came into view.
The hut.
Nestled against the roots of an enormous tree, the wooden dwelling was built with care, sturdy despite its simple construction. A small stack of firewood rested nearby, a water basin set just outside the entrance. A set of drying herbs hung under the eaves, swaying slightly in the cool evening breeze.
It was isolated. No signs of a village, no neighboring homes. Just wilderness stretching out in every direction.
The boy stopped a few steps from the door and turned back to them. His gaze swept over the group, lingering on Elara's injured form, before he jerked his chin toward the hut.
"Here it is."
None of them moved.
Lira shifted, glancing at Seren. Nia's fingers twitched near the hilt of her dagger. Riven's crossbow remained strapped to her back, but her stance had turned rigid.
Seren took a slow breath. The hut looked… normal. Functional. Lived-in.
But something about this still felt off.
The boy wasn't nervous about strangers near his home. He wasn't worried, wasn't cautious. If anything, he seemed indifferent.
And that was what made her uneasy.
She met his gaze once more, searching for something—some hint of deception, some flicker of motive. But there was nothing. Just quiet patience, as if he were waiting to see what they would do next.
Then, a single thought crept into her mind.
If he lived with his parents…
Where were they?
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Echoes of the Past
The hut stood silent before them, small yet sturdy against the vast wilderness. The boy watched them expectantly, arms crossed, his sharp gaze unreadable. Seren hesitated, exchanging a glance with her knights. Trust was a dangerous thing, and their situation was already precarious.
Elara groaned softly, drawing Seren's attention. Her breathing was shallower now. They couldn't afford to waste time debating.
Seren nodded. "We'll take shelter. But if this is a trick—"
The boy rolled his eyes. "If it was, you'd already know."
With that, he turned and pushed open the door, stepping inside without another word.
The knights exchanged uneasy glances but followed. Seren went in first, cautious but determined.
Inside, the hut was simple but well-kept. A wooden table with neatly arranged tools, shelves lined with dried herbs and small bundles of supplies. A single cot rested against the far wall, the blankets folded with surprising care. The scent of earth and pine filled the space, blending with faint traces of old smoke.
Seren scanned the room, noting the lack of any extra beds. No signs of a second occupant, let alone two.
He said he lived with his parents.
Her fingers curled slightly. Something wasn't adding up.
The boy moved with familiarity, stepping toward a shelf and grabbing a bundle of cloth. "Put her here." He gestured to the cot.
Seren hesitated only a second before motioning to Lira and Nia. They carefully eased Elara onto the bedding, the knight groaning but not resisting.
Lira crouched beside her, checking the wound. "She needs rest. These herbs will help, but…" She trailed off, shooting a glance toward their host.
The boy leaned against the wall, watching. "I've got more supplies if you need them."
Riven folded her arms. "Generous for someone who doesn't know us."
The boy shrugged. "You'd be dead without them."
Silence.
Seren studied him again, this time more carefully. His expression remained unreadable, but she could see something behind his eyes—something old, too heavy for a child's face.
Then she noticed it.
The shelf near the cot. A small wooden carving sat there, half-finished, its edges smoothed from wear. Beside it, an extra blanket, neatly folded. A second bowl on the table, though only one was in use.
Traces of others. But no one here.
She exhaled slowly. "Your parents."
The boy didn't move. Didn't blink.
Then, without looking at her, he said, "They went hunting."
The knights exchanged quick glances. Hunting? At this hour?
Nia frowned, voice cautious. "When will they return?"
The boy smirked, his expression unreadable. "Dunno. It's been two years. I'm still waiting."
A heavy silence settled over the room.
No one spoke, but Seren could feel the weight of his words pressing down on them all. The fire crackled in the small hearth, its warmth suddenly feeling dim against the cold truth hanging in the air.
The boy sighed, rubbing the back of his head. Welp. Guess that joke didn't land.
"…Right." The blonde cleared her throat. "Let's get that wound treated."
The others immediately got to work, tending to their injured companion. The boy leaned back, watching quietly.
He had given them a place to stay, some herbs, and a bad joke.