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Chapter 2 - Chapter 2: The Unseen Path

Chapter 2: The Unseen Path

 

The tension at the gate of Butita, already a taut wire, was pulled tighter by Fayrouz's sharp rebuke. The guard whose laziness had been so publicly questioned straightened his spine, his hand tightening on the shaft of his spear. The weariness in his eyes was replaced by a flash of indignant fire.

"Lazy? And what, exactly, do you mean by that, girl?" he demanded, his voice low and gravelly.

Fayrouz did not flinch. Though she faced him, her head was tilted slightly, as if listening to the vibrations in his voice rather than seeing the anger on his face. "The protection of the kingdom's roads falls under the purview of its certified guards and knights. You stand here, making excuses and attempting to shift the entirety of that responsibility onto the Knights, who are likely engaged in far more pressing matters. That is the very definition of dereliction of duty."

"Our duty is to this gate and the protection of this village," the second guard interjected, his tone sharper. "Not the ten leagues of open road between here and Saikono. Do not speak on matters of law and jurisdiction when you clearly know nothing of them."

"I know that I cannot stand by and listen to you tarnish the honor of the Knights," Fayrouz declared, a chilling finality in her tone. She took a single, deliberate step towards the village gate. "Therefore, I will handle the matter of these bandits myself."

A heavy silence fell over the small group, broken only by the buzz of a fly and the soft snort of one of the old horses. The guards stared, their professional calm finally cracking into expressions of pure, unadulterated disbelief. Even Fulan found himself momentarily stunned by the sheer, unshakeable confidence radiating from the blindfolded girl beside him.

From behind them, the old wagon driver cleared his throat nervously. "Pardon me, miss," he called out, his voice hesitant. "That is all very… noble. But you have not yet paid for the journey."

Fayrouz froze mid-step. For a fraction of a second, her unwavering composure seemed to falter. A short, tense silence passed. "I have no money," she admitted, her voice losing none of its clarity. "But I can offer you a service. A promise. When I become a Knight of Saita, I will owe you a favor. My name is Fayrouz. Remember it, for I will be the strongest Knight of my generation."

The old man blinked, his mouth slightly agape. He looked from the impossibly bold girl to the empty road ahead, then back again. "I… I don't know if I'll live long enough to see that day, miss."

Before the awkwardness could curdle the air completely, Fulan stepped forward. Without a word, he retrieved another silver coin from his pouch—another serpent of the Tania Kingdom—and pressed it into the driver's hand. "Thank you again for the safe travels."

The old driver's weathered face broke into a look of genuine gratitude and relief. He closed his hand around the two coins. "You are a kind lad," he said, his voice warm. "May you have good fortune in the exam that awaits you." He gave a final nod, clambered back onto his wagon, and with a soft click of his tongue, urged his old companions forward, leaving the youths at the gate.

At the word "exam," Fayrouz's head, which had been turned slightly away in thought, snapped back in Fulan's direction. Her bandaged face betrayed nothing, but the subtle arch of her eyebrows was unmistakable—a flicker of keen interest. Exam?

She seemed to file the thought away, turning and striding through the open gate into Butita village. Fulan followed a few paces behind her. The two guards exchanged a look, a silent conversation of shrugged shoulders and raised eyebrows that communicated their utter bewilderment. They were guards of a sleepy village gate, not arbiters of the fate of reckless youths. Letting them pass was, they seemed to decide, the path of least resistance.

Butita village was a peaceful, rustic place. The ground underfoot was well-trodden earth, not stone. The houses were crafted from dark, sturdy wood, with thatched roofs from which thin tendrils of smoke drifted lazily into the sky. The air smelled of burning oak, fresh-baked bread, and the faint, dusty scent of chickens scratching in the alleyways between homes. Villagers paused in their work to watch the two strangers pass—a quiet boy and a blindfolded girl with an unnervingly straight back—their curiosity piqued but respectful.

Fulan walked directly behind Fayrouz, the silence stretching between them. Is this alright? he thought, a sense of awkwardness creeping in. I must look like I'm stalking her. Her hair swayed gently with each step, the blue-tipped strands catching the light like slivers of sapphire.

As if sensing his thoughts, she spoke without stopping or turning. "Thank you for what you did back there," she said, her voice a low murmur. "I promise to provide you a service of equal value to repay that coin."

Fulan quickened his pace, drawing alongside her. It felt more natural than trailing behind. "Don't worry about it," he said quietly. "It wasn't a big deal."

She continued walking, her steps even and sure, navigating the uneven ground as if she could see every dip and stone. "By the way," she began, her tone casual but deliberate, "what did that man mean by 'the exam'?"

"Raganda Academy," Fulan answered. "The entrance exam is in a few days."

Fayrouz was silent for several long strides, the only sound their soft footfalls on the dusty path. "I see," she said finally. "Then we are headed to the same place."

A slow smile spread across Fulan's face. "I suspected as much," he said, "when you mentioned becoming a Knight."

They walked on, a comfortable quiet settling between them as they traversed the length of the small village. Soon, the gate at the opposite end came into view, a mirror image of the one they had entered, complete with two more certified guards.

These guards, however, had a more concerned, almost fatherly demeanor. "Hold on, you two," one of them said, holding up a hand. "You're not planning on taking the old pass, are you?"

"We are," Fayrouz stated plainly.

The guard shook his head, sighing. "Listen, the Nine Spider-Feet have claimed it. It's not safe. You can take the northern route through the hills, or the southern one through the marsh. We can give you directions."

"How long will those routes take?" Fulan asked.

"An extra two days for the hills, maybe three for the marsh, if you're quick," the other guard supplied. "It's a long way around."

Two or three days. The exam would be over by then. The reality of their situation settled heavily in the air. Their only option was the path forward.

"The delay is unacceptable," Fayrouz announced, her voice leaving no room for argument. "I will remove the danger from our path. Fundamentally."

The guards looked at her, then at Fulan, then back at her blindfold. "Miss, with all due respect," the first guard said gently, "those are dangerous men. This isn't a game."

But Fayrouz's resolve was a cliff against which their words broke and fell away. She simply walked past them, heading out onto the road that led into the wilderness. Fulan gave the guards a small, apologetic nod and followed her without hesitation.

"Reckless," one guard muttered, watching them go.

"The youth of today," the other sighed, shaking his head. "They believe they're invincible."

The road beyond the gate was narrower, the wilderness pressing in closer on both sides. For a full hour, they walked in silence. The afternoon sun beat down, the autumn air holding a lingering warmth that made the air shimmer. The world was alive with the drone of insects and the rustle of leaves in a faint, dry wind. Towering trees formed a canopy high above, dappling the path in shifting patterns of light and shadow. To Fulan's eyes, the path was utterly empty. There were no tracks, no signs of a camp, no hint of an ambush.

He let out a quiet sigh. "There's nothing here," he said, breaking the long silence. "Maybe the bandits already left."

In front of him, Fayrouz stopped dead. Her entire body went rigid, her head cocked as if catching a sound no one else could hear.

"No," she whispered, her voice taut. "They are here."

She turned slowly, her bandaged face sweeping across the seemingly empty woods to their left. "They have been watching us this entire time."

Fulan frowned, his eyes scanning the dense foliage. "What are you talking about? There's no one there."

As the words left his mouth, the air itself seemed to warp. In nine distinct spots scattered amongst the trees, the light bent and twisted, shimmering like the iridescent surface of a soap bubble. The distortion cleared, and reality snapped back into place, leaving nine figures standing where there had been only empty space moments before. They emerged from their concealment as smoothly as lizards appearing on a sun-warmed rock.

Fulan's breath caught in his throat, his hand instinctively dropping to the hilt of the sword he wore at his hip. The figures were all clad in drab, brown cloaks with deep hoods that obscured their faces in shadow. They stood perfectly still, their sudden appearance both silent and profoundly menacing.

One of them, a man with a broad, powerful build, took a step forward. A cruel, amused smile played on the part of his face visible beneath the hood.

"Well, well," the man's voice boomed, echoing slightly in the quiet woods. "What do we have here? A human radar?"

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