The man asked, his voice hoarse with worry:
— Helmo? Who are these people?
Helmo replied immediately, in an innocent tone:
— I met them in the forest while I was chasing a wild rabbit. They were lost, and I think they had spent a long time among the trees. They looked exhausted, so I brought them here to rest for a while. Then they'll continue on their way.
His father cast him a long look, then turned to the guests, his voice now more cautious:
— And who are you? What brings you to this forest?
Mihon stepped forward, his mysterious eyes fixed on the man, and spoke in a calm, composed voice:
— We come from outside the forest. We were traveling toward the Kingdom of Randor, but we lost our way... The forest was dense, and we couldn't find a way out.
The man examined the two boys with piercing eyes. They were about the same age as his own son, and that made him suddenly furrow his brows. Then his face twisted into sharp anger as he turned to Helmo, growling:
— Why did you bring them here? Don't you realize how dangerous that was?! This place is not safe. Those bastards… they show no mercy. They will exploit their presence and destroy their lives!
But Mihon, having caught a glimpse of the sorrow in Helmo's eyes, stepped in with a confident tone:
— There's no need to worry, sir. We came of our own will—Helmo had no part in the decision. He treated us kindly and meant no harm. All he did… was offer us food and rest.
— You don't know who lives in this place… you don't know how savage they are. If they find out you're here, they won't hesitate for a single moment to turn you into their slaves.
Mihon smiled faintly, a confident smile.
— "Don't worry… we'll take care of it ourselves."
The man said nothing, but he sensed that there was something unusual about Mihon and Youray. Two boys their age shouldn't be able to wander through this forest and come out unharmed. He looked at them closely—Youray's unwavering gaze, Mihon's calm composure… No, these two were not ordinary.
He coughed, shaking off his confusion, then said,
— "Well then… Helmo, did you catch anything today?"
Helmo pointed excitedly toward the table.
— "Yes! It's over there! Cooked and ready. We just started. Come, sit with us!"
They all gathered around the wooden table, and under the dim glow of an oil lamp, scattered conversations began to unfold. Helmo spoke with tireless enthusiasm, recounting what Mihon and Youray had told him, while the two merely smiled or offered the occasional light comment.
When they had finished eating, the father said in a practical tone, "Helmo, we've run out of water. Go to the well and fetch some."
Helmo stood up, took a large clay jar, then turned to his two guests. "Come on, let's go together. It'll be a chance to see the center of the village."
The three of them left the house, the night air carrying a chill laced with the scent of wood and smoke. Mihon asked, "Where is the well?"
"In the middle of the village, beside the chief's house."
The road was relatively long, as Helmo's home stood at the edge of the village. As they neared the center, eyes began to fall on them like rain. The villagers were not used to seeing strangers. Whispers rose, and a wave of murmurs swept through the air.
They approached the well, where a number of villagers had gathered to fill their tractors. The whispers stopped, and the voices began to get louder.
- Who are they? - Have you seen them before? - They are strangers... How long have strangers been passing through here?
Suddenly, an old man came out of one of the nearby houses, his voice strong despite his age: - What's with the headache?
He began to search with his angry eyes, until they fell on Mihon and Youray standing next to Helmo. - Helmo! Come here!
The boy rushed over to him and began to tell him the story from the beginning. The leader didn't interrupt, but watched Mihon and Youray with keen eyes.
When he finished, he said: -You're not from here, are you?
- That's right, we're heading to Randor.
"And do you know why no one dares approach this forest?"
Mihon told him what he had read in the newspapers, the widespread warnings, and how people had started talking about the recurring "disappearances."
When he finished speaking, the leader's face darkened. He muttered bitterly,
"Damn it... damn those bastards. It seems all of this was planned."
Mihon said calmly, "I think so."
But the leader didn't lift his eyes. He kept staring at Mihon's face.
Suddenly, his eyes narrowed, and he stepped closer.
The wind had shifted a few strands of Mihon's hair, revealing the second black mark above his eyebrow.
The leader whispered to himself, his voice barely audible,
"No... it can't be... those two marks... I've seen them before..."
Then he suddenly asked:
— How is the old man?
Mihon and Youray were both surprised.
— Which old man do you mean?
— Clivor... His name is Clivor, isn't it?
Mihon's gaze froze, then he answered slowly:
— How do you know him?
The village chief spoke, his voice weighed down by distant memories and deep regret:
— That man came here about sixteen years ago, carrying a small infant in his arms. He stayed in our village for only three days, then left. Before leaving, he said to me firmly: "Leave this place. Take the villagers and go far away."
He didn't explain why—he was in a hurry, and I didn't ask for a reason. Back then, the village was thriving, full of people, with merchants coming from every direction… I couldn't imagine leaving it.
I refused—stubbornly, foolishly. And now… this is what I regret more than anything. Because of that decision, this village still suffers.
The old man was sorrowful as he spoke, as if every word tore a piece from his soul.
"And that child he was carrying back then… was you.
I still remember those two black dots above your left eyebrow.
What a coincidence, for you to return to this place after all these years."
Two hours ago, in a distant place
In a wide room bathed in the glow of screens, a man sat on a tall chair. Before him, another man bowed, dressed in gray clothes and a hat that concealed his eyes.
The bowed man said, "Yes, sir. There are only two of them."
The man on the throne replied in a cold voice, "Bring them immediately. Take four men with you."
"Yes, sir."
The man left quickly.
The one with blond hair and blue eyes sat, rubbing his thick eyebrow with slight tension.
"It's been a long time... since anyone entered this forest..."