The warm glow of the afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on Marilin's face as she gazed at her daughter, Aris. A gentle smile played on her lips, and her voice was imbued with warmth. "I don't know," she said, her words laced with a soothing cadence that seemed to match the rhythmic creaking of the coach. The leather seats groaned softly as the vehicle swayed, the horses' hooves pounding out a steady beat against the earthy path. The scent of blooming wildflowers wafted through the air, sweet and heady, mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest floor.
As the coach emerged from the trees, Aris's eyes landed on the pendant on former Jaden's arm, its facets reflecting the sun's rays like a tiny star amidst the shadows. Her face scratched in thought as she scanned the surroundings, her brow furrowed in concentration. The pendant seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy, drawing her attention like a lodestone.
Aris's gaze drifted back to her mother, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Her voice was filled with conviction as she spoke, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I think I know a name that would fit him well." Marilin's eyebrow arched in curiosity, her expression a mask of polite interest, though her eyes betrayed a glimmer of intrigue. "What's that?" she asked, her voice low and melodious, as if she were coaxing a secret from Aris.
Aris hesitated, her gaze locking onto her mother's, her eyes searching for something. The silence stretched out between them, punctuated only by the creaking of the coach and the distant chirping of a bird. "First, let me ask you a question," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper, as if she were sharing a confidence.
The forest seemed to hold its breath as Marilin waited for Aris to continue, the silence stretching out like a taut thread. The rustling of leaves and chirping of birds filled the air, a soothing melody that underscored the tension, as if the very woods themselves were leaning in to listen. A faint scent of damp earth and moss wafted up from the forest floor, mingling with the sweet aroma of blooming wildflowers.
"Are we still using our last family name?" Aris asked, her brow furrowed in thought, her fingers drumming a staccato beat on the worn leather seat. Marilin was taken aback by the question, her eyes narrowing slightly as she processed the implications. But she realized the sense in it, and a small nod punctuated her response. "No," she replied, her voice firm, like the snap of a branch. "From now on, this village will be our home, and its name will be our family name."
Aris's face lit up with understanding, her eyes sparkling like dew-killed leaves in the morning sun. She nodded enthusiastically, her ponytail bobbing behind her like a dark, glossy waterfall. "And what's the name?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, as if she were sharing a secret with the forest.
"Ranon," Marilin replied, a sense of finality in her voice, like the closing of a heavy door. The name seemed to settle into the air, taking root like a ancient tree.
Aris smiled, her eyes shining with excitement, as if the very thought of Cyan was a ray of sunlight on a winter's day. "In that case... It's Nice to meet you, Cyan Sayl Ranon," she said, gazing at the baby with an almost maternal tenderness. From that day onwards, Jaden became known as Cyan, a name that seemed to fit him like a well-worn glove.
Marilin chuckled, her eyes cr crling at the corners as she gazed at Aris. "It's a wonderful name," she said, her voice filled with warmth. "But where did you pull Sayl from?" Her curiosity was palpable, and Aris's smile grew wider, her eyes sparkling with importance.
Aris leaned in, her voice filled with a quiet confidence. "Here in the south, middle names are crucial – they're a whispered promise, a secret shared between the earth and the soul. I added Sayl as his middle name because in the north, it means moon." She paused, her gaze drifting to Cyan, who was sleeping peacefully in his swaddle. "It suits him, don't you think? The way the moon glows with a light that's both gentle and strong?"
Marilin's eyes softened as she looked at her daughter, her expression a mix of wonder and warmth. "Moon, huh? It suits him well." The coach creaked on, the sun beating down on the forest, casting dappled shadows on the ground. The scent of blooming wildflowers wafted through the air, sweet and heady, mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest floor.
The years slipped by like leaves on a gentle stream, and the villagers grew to accept the Ranon family as one of their own. Randell and Cyan made new friends, their laughter echoing through the streets like music. Aris blossomed into a confident and compassionate young girl, her smile as bright as the morning sun.
Ten years later, a figure in black melded into the shadows of the forest, their bow drawn and aimed at a majestic deer with one blue and one red horn. The figure's eyes narrowed, their gaze locked onto the deer's heart, their breathing slow and steady like the forest's pulse. The scent of damp earth and moss wafted up from the forest floor, mingling with the sweet aroma of blooming wildflowers. The deer's ears twitched, and it sensed danger, its muscles tensing like coiled springs. But the figure was too skilled, their fingers moving with the precision of a master craftsman.
The arrow flew, its trajectory true... but just as it was about to strike, a sudden gust of wind whispered through the trees, and the arrow veered off course, hitting a nearby tree with a loud thud. The figure muttered a curse, frustration etched on their face like a shadow. The deer bounded away, its hooves pounding out a staccato beat on the forest floor.
The figure whistled a signal that echoed through the forest, clear as a bell: "Cyan." The sound lingered, a summons that seemed to vibrate through the very trees.
As the sun beat down on the forest, another figure sprinted through the trees, their movements fluid and precise like a river flowing over smooth stones. Cyan, a very young, yet skilled weapon master, chased after a majestic deer, his eyes fixed on the target like a hawk tracking its prey. The forest blurred around him, a green-and-brown kaleidoscope of leaves and branches. With a swift motion, he drew four arrows, placing two on his bow and two in his mouth, his fingers moving with the ease of practice.
The deer's ears twitched, and it sensed danger, its muscles tensing like whipcord. But Cyan was relentless, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity. The first arrow struck the deer's stomach, the second its leg. Though the deer slowed, it refused to yield, its eyes flashing with a fierce determination.
Cyan leapt into the air, drawing two more arrows as he soared, his movements like a dance. Time seemed to slow as he released the arrows, which flew towards the deer with deadly precision, striking its head with a sickening crunch.
END OF CHAPTER 2