We continued walking, Nimue wiping the blood from her scepter with a little water that emerged, like her healing magic, from the palm of her hand.
"You seem to know how to handle many kinds of magic," I said, trying to strike up a conversation. She nodded, visibly proud. "When I was a little girl I was interested in learning things beyond healing." I asked, curious. "What do you care?" He answered, crossing his arms. "I'm just curious..." I insisted.
Nimue sighed, resigned and giving in a little. I'll tell you.
Nimue raised her hand decisively, and with a slight tap on the ground, small stones began to rise from the ground, slowly spinning in the air until they formed a kind of rocky barrier next to us.
"Terra magic," he explained, "allows me to control the earth and the stones. I can lift rocks, create cover to protect ourselves, or move the ground in my favor. Ideal for when you need quick defense or a good hiding place.
I watched the barrier with some admiration.
"Not bad. It is better to have something solid than just to know about water and cures.
She smiled with a gleam of satisfaction.
"That's not all. Check this out.
With a gesture, he summoned water from the humidity of the air, which swirled to form a liquid ball in his palm, bright and shining.
"This is aqua magic, marine magic. I can manipulate water to attack, defend, or even heal. It's more versatile than it looks.
I nodded, impressed, as the ball of water exploded in a fine rain that refreshed the atmosphere.
"And the healing?"
"That's the basics," Nimue replied. But what really fascinates me is the magic of Void, the magic of emptiness. It's dark, mysterious... and full of possibilities.
He looked at me with a spark in his eyes.
—Very few people in the world know how to do Void magic. It is very dangerous but fascinating.
So there is more magic than dark and healing? Of course it is. Every time I heard a new guy I wanted to learn how to use it, but of course, it was just the impulse of the moment, then all the desire disappeared completely.
"Void magic isn't like dark magic?" I asked curiously.
Violet eyes, bright with the sunlight that shone from the front, penetrated me completely. I swallowed hard, I thought he was going to beat me.
"Of course not!" Ignorant! He replied. "Void magic is a branch of dark magic, yes, but it's completely different.
A branch? That is to say... were there variations of each type within them? Fascinating...
"By the way..." he murmured. I remembered that Nimue's blood was different in color, something that made me curious from the get-go. I wanted to ask but I thought maybe it would be a bad time.
We walked for at least two more hours among trees that, as the day progressed, the colors of the leaves began to change. At night they were blue and during sunrise they turned orange. It was like a clock with which you could control what time of day was about to be just by looking at the trees.
The sun was already approaching its highest point. The light filtered through the tall branches, casting long, wavy shadows on the ground. A light breeze blew from both sides, as if something—or someone—was breathing from the forest itself.
"Son of Toran, look at that!" Nimue exclaimed, pointing to something in front.
I frowned and looked where it was pointing.
There, a few meters away, among the undergrowth, a perfectly defined path opened. It wasn't just any path... it was wide, uniform, and bordered by perfectly aligned stones. The ground was flattened, almost weedless, as if someone had taken it upon himself to maintain it. It didn't have the wild look of the forest. No. That was... like a road.
"What's that?" I asked, cautiously.
—An old road, because of how it is laid out. But he's in too good a state," Nimue replied, folding her arms. His gaze jumped from side to side, his senses alert.
I nodded and moved a few steps closer, pulling out the map for the umpteenth time. The lines drawn on the parchment clearly indicated that we should turn to the right... and just to the right stretched that natural road, getting lost among the trees.
"Just what the map indicates," I murmured. It seems that someone has already made this path before us.
"Or that it still does," Nimue added suspiciously. But hey, better this than cutting our faces with every branch of the forest.
We enter the path, with a firm step, although somewhat uncomfortable. The silence felt different here. It was not the silence of the forest. It was more... intentional. As if the place itself held its breath waiting for us to take the next step.
I didn't know if we were following a safe route or if we were walking towards something much worse. But for now, it was the only clear path.
At last, the sound of our footsteps changed. The rustling of leaves and branches gave way to the sharp thud of boots against firmer, more worked ground. It was, without a doubt, something very comforting.
As we made our way along the path, I could hear Nimue humming something in the background. A soft melody, almost imperceptible, but with a curious rhythm... like a lullaby or an ancient song.
"What is that you humming?" I asked, in a curious tone.
Nimue was startled, as if she didn't expect him to speak just at that moment when she was completely in her world.
"Nothing!" he blurted out, almost shouting. I was talking to myself," she added, nervously.
Yes, of course... let me believe it.
"Don't lie to me... "baddie oni," I said sarcastically, smiling.
She stopped short and, without saying anything, slammed her foot on the ground with all the force she had at that moment.
"Agh!" I complained, trying to get out of the way. "Fuck, that hurt!"
"You are very repellent!" He replied, crossing his arms with a frown. Don't treat me like a little oni!
"Then you'd rather be treated like a grumpy witch?"
"Agh! You are unbearable!
We continued walking, with the echo of our footsteps echoing along the road, while a light breeze gently pushed us from behind, as if even the wind wanted us to stop fooling around and keep moving forward.
The air was calm, almost too calm. Only the distant song of a distracted bird and the constant sound of our footsteps broke the silence.
But suddenly, something changed.
Cloc, cloc... cloc, cloc...
A rhythmic, dry and increasingly close sound. Helmets. Horse hooves.
"Do you hear it?" I asked quietly, stopping in my tracks.
"Yes," Nimue replied, her face tense.
A few seconds later, another noise accompanied the hooves: the rattle of wooden wheels against the rammed earth. A car, without a doubt.
We didn't expect company... And in this world, that meant danger.
Without hesitation, we both threw ourselves to the side of the road and hid behind some thick bushes. They weren't the best in the world, but they gave enough cover to go unnoticed if we didn't make any sudden movements.
I held my breath. Nimue too. The car was nearby. Very close.
Clooooc, cloooc, clo-cloc... clac-clac-clac...
The creak of the wooden axles, the screech of the wheels hitting some loose stone, the tired snort of the horse... Everything was real, tangible.
I could see the silhouette of the vehicle from between the leaves. It was a wooden cart somewhat worn, but neat. She was carrying a few boxes and barrels tightly fastened, and was led by a calm-looking man in a wide-brimmed hat and staring blankly at the horizon.
He didn't seem like an enemy.
We waited until it passed by and only then, slowly, did we come out of hiding. Nimue brushed the leaves out of her hair as I sat up cautiously.
"Do you think it was dangerous?" He asked quietly.
"I don't know... but it didn't seem like it. He looked more like someone who is passing through.
We both looked at the dirt road that stretched out before us. It was evident that someone used it frequently. It was too well maintained to be a simple forgotten route.
"This road could lead us to some city," I said, almost aloud, as if trying to convince myself.
"A city," Nimue repeated in a hopeful tone. That means rest, supplies... and decent food!
"And maybe problems too," I added, not entirely optimistic. But if we want to find answers, or any clues about the cure, we will have to take risks.
We both stayed for a few seconds looking at the trail.
"Let's go on the road," I said at last.
Nimue nodded, and we set off, now with a new direction and a slight spark of hope ignited amid so much uncertainty.
According to Oni beliefs, humans hated us so intensely that there were even military squads created exclusively to hunt us. We were taught from a young age to hide, to distrust, to run rather than doubt. We couldn't allow a human to see us. Never.
"On the map does it indicate if there is a big city or..." a small town? Nimue asked, her voice low but firm.
"I don't plan to use the map again!" I blurted out, annoyed, gritting my teeth. My side still hurt. That map had brought me nothing but misfortune.
"Okay, okay... "Grumpy don," he replied, raising his hands in surrender.
"Look who's talking..." the grumpy witch," I replied, raising an eyebrow.
"Mmph!" he grumbled, turning around with his arms folded as if he were five years old.
As we made our way along the path, some structures began to emerge among the trees, at the very edge of the trail. The first thing that caught my attention was the material: marble? Yes... It looked like white marble, although with bluish veins that shone slightly in contact with sunlight. It was a type of stone that I had never seen in my world.
"Is that marble?" I asked, between curious and distrustful.
"I don't know if it's marble, but it's beautiful," Nimue said, pausing to take a closer look at one of the sculptures.
The figures were modest, but not simple. There was intention behind each of them. Some of them represented creatures I didn't recognize—at least not from any magic or history book I'd ever read—birds with more than a pair of wings, twisted fanged cats, even a species of deer with eyes on the sides of its head. Mystical animals. Or nightmare, I wasn't sure.
"They're stylish, there's no denying that," I said, circling a figure that looked like a cross between snake and dragon, coiled around itself as if protecting something invisible.
"Yes... and also time. "They're worn, but not entirely abandoned," Nimue observed, running her fingers over the inscriptions at the base of one of them. I don't understand what it says. It is not an Oni language, neither ancient nor modern.
We continue to move forward. At every step, new structures appeared. Some larger, such as broken columns or remains of walls decorated with reliefs; others small, simple stones carved with shapes without apparent sense. But they all conveyed something. History. Memory.
"Do you think anyone lives nearby?" I asked.
"I don't know... But this does not seem recent, although it does not seem old enough to be forgotten either. It's as if someone is taking care of him... from time to time.
"Maybe this road does lead to some important place," I murmured.
The wind blew softly, and a slight rustle of dry leaves accompanied our steps. The atmosphere was denser. More... sacred, perhaps. As if we were crossing a hidden sanctuary or an area that no one had set foot in years.
But we were wrong.
Not many steps ahead, the sound of the wind through the trees was replaced by something much more human: voices.
We stopped instantly, hiding behind some low bushes that bordered the road. We looked at each other. Nimue nodded silently, and we crouched down and peeked out cautiously.
In front of us, about fifty yards away, a wrecked cart occupied part of the road. The axle split, a blown wheel, and fragments of wood scattered everywhere. Around him, a group of six or seven people were arguing agitatedly. They wore worn, tattered clothes, covered with mud and dust. Some women hugged small children while the men appeared to inspect the wreckage of the wagon.
"Look at them... how pathetic," Nimue snapped, with a hint of contempt in her voice.
"Have they had an accident?" I asked, with more compassion than perhaps I should show.
"It could be, but it doesn't make sense. "We haven't heard anything," he said, frowning. Not a blow, not a scream. And the cart from before seemed in perfect condition...
I was silent, watching.
The voices did not understand each other. They spoke a language that neither of them recognized. Still, the tone was clear: they were worried. They looked at the sky, the forest, the trees... as if they were afraid that something would follow them.
Nimue crouched even further.
"We shouldn't go close. What if they are hostile?
"But... they don't look like soldiers. They do not carry weapons. Nor armor. They're peasants, at most," I pointed with my chin at one of them. That man can barely stand.
"So what?" According to Oni beliefs, humans hate us. They always have. Some even create squads to hunt down ours.
Yes, Nimue, I know.
"If we could get between the blankets that cover the merchandise..."
"No way," Nimue blurted out, glaring at me. He knew perfectly well what he wanted to do.
"Well, I don't know about you, but I don't have time to lose. If you don't come, here you stay. I sat up without further ado, coming out of the bushes as if nothing had happened, walking with a determined step towards the group of humans.
"Nak-Son of Toran! Where do you think you're going!? Nimue exclaimed with a muffled cry, trying not to raise her voice too much.
I didn't listen to him. I didn't even look at her. I had to. Something was pushing me, as if the blood was burning under my skin.
Step by step, I felt a twinge in my chest. A yellowish flash emerged from him, like a ray of sunlight slipping through a narrow crack.
"Fuck," I muttered under my breath, biting my lower lip to ignore the pain.
I didn't know if it was magic, anxiety, or a damn warning that I was getting into the lion's den. But it was too late to back down.
The group of people hadn't seen me yet. They walked to and fro, carrying things from the broken wagon, arguing among themselves in that unknown language. A woman, the youngest, was the first to look up. He looked at me for a moment, and then he shouted something incomprehensible.
Several heads turned towards me.
And I... Smiled. As if he were one more. As if there was nothing strange about a stranger coming out of the woods just at that moment.