The instructors and some of the young ones could feel something… something eerie. They couldn't quite place it, but the atmosphere had shifted. There hadn't been any positivity before, yet now it felt like night, not visually, but in the heavy, suffocating silence of it.
The instructors exchanged glances but said nothing. Valerick stood to the side, one hand and a foot braced against a tree, his head resting on his arm. His other arm bled slowly as he thought about the situation and how he would answer his superiors. The other three looked both guilty and tense.
The remaining Belenorians were still crying. Their voices grew ragged and twisted, almost inhuman, with each passing second.
"Apprehend the remaining Belenorians. We'll head back to Devarth Hollow."
Valerick's voice was low and tired. Every part of him ached. His arm throbbed, and his chest felt heavy with the thought that he had failed, that he should have done more.
He held his bleeding arm, not just to stop the pain but to steady himself. He couldn't look at anyone. Meeting their eyes would only make the guilt worse. Without another word, he turned and started toward Devarth Hollow, his steps slow and heavy.
The instructors followed his order. They seized the remaining women and children with heavy hearts and bound them in chains. The captives were still crying, but now their voices turned sharp, spitting curses between sobs. They hissed and shouted, but the instructors dragged them forward with firm hands.
It was part of being on the battlefield. Mercy could live in the heart, but duty came first. They had to do what was required, and they could not show weakness.
The chains didn't break the Belenorians' spirit. They fought against every pull, and it only made their situation worse. At times, they were dragged across the ground; at others, they staggered forward, the iron pressing painfully against their wrists and ankles with every step.
The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the weary travellers. They were travelling in a rough line. Everyone was sleepy and tired, their steps slow from the long day. The road ahead wound through a thick forest, its air heavy with moisture and the scent of damp earth. Shadows filled the space between the trees, and an uneasy feeling lingered. Ahead still lay a six-hour march to Devarth Hollow, and the road promised no rest.
Ravnar looked around and didn't have a good vibe about the place. He approached Valerick, who was at a distance ahead of him, leading.
"Should I go forward to find a suitable place for camping?" he asked Valerick. He wasn't tired but was concerned about the rest.
"NO!" Valerick replied.
Ravnar looked confused but said nothing. Valerick paused for a moment, then continued,
"We'll rest when we reach Devarth Hollow."
Something was going on in his mind, yet Ravnar and others couldn't tell what.
"Don't you think we should wait here? Students and these sick children can't march for six hours straight," Ravnar insisted.
"Ask the Academy next time to make you the leader." Valerick wasn't in a good mood and maintained his distance from everyone else.
Behind the cadets, the students, instructors, and Belenorians followed. The wicked-looking woman and the children were now more complicit with the instructors, moving along with less resistance than before.
Larsen, who was travelling with Fiona and the others, didn't look good either. He could feel something pressing against his chest, an abstract pressure, one that made his heart sink. His mind was becoming more and more foggy.
As the clarity in his head faded, replaced by clouds of confusion and chaos, he started losing it. He couldn't understand it, how could he, when his mind was unable to process anything?
It was the point where fear dominated his entire body, a fear of the unknown and strange, something he could never comprehend, but this time he could feel it more, in his mind... and in his heart.
Ahead, Valerick had no intention of resting for the night. He was already far from the rest of the party, and the distance kept growing until he disappeared from sight.
Behind him, everyone moved slowly. Many watched as he kept going, his figure fading into the darkness of the thick forest, until he was gone. Instead of trying to keep up, they all slowed their pace even more, widening the distance between them and him.
The forest ahead was darker and thicker. Ravnar, who had seen Valerick vanish into the night, decided to tell him to slow down and stay with the rest of them.
"Hey, Mason, I think he's gone too far now. He should keep up with us."
"I'll go and find him," he said, then left.
"Come back quickly, even if you can't find him. He's probably around. He'll join us when he realises."
Ravnar walked straight into the darkness. He couldn't see anything ahead. He kept shouting,
"Valerick! Are you here?"
"Can you hear me, Valerick?"
But there was no response.
Valerick, now curious, lit up his torch. The warm light pushed back some of the darkness around him, revealing the thick tree branch. He was sitting there, trying to focus his eyes on the movement ahead.
"Ah… there you are."
He could see him now, facing him and looking in a better mood. Ravnar, however, seemed a bit suspicious of him now. His eyes narrowed slightly, scanning Valerick as if trying to read what was going on in his mind.
"What are you doing?" he asked, stepping a little closer.
"I… went ahead by mistake. I'm sorry." Valerick's voice was calm, almost casual.
"Let's just stop here."
"Here?" Ravnar asked, glancing around at the pitch-black forest.
"No, no, where are the others right now?"
"What? What's this sudden change of mind? Or should I say... a change of heart?"
Ravnar's suspicions grew. His grip tightened slightly on the torch in his hand, and his gaze didn't leave Valerick.
"No, no, it's nothing. I just realised it's probably not possible for them to march till after midnight."
"Hmm… let's go." Ravnar seemed a bit relieved that they were going to rest for a while. His shoulders loosened, though his eyes still lingered on Valerick for a moment longer before he turned to lead the way back.