บท 9: Chapter 8: Shadowy Truths
The three heroes set up camp on the edge of the forest. The sky was darkening rapidly. Too rapid for them to search for sticks. Perhaps it was better to not burn a light for the moths to find them. Riona rummaged in her satchel for a loaf to break with the others.
Lance lay sprawled over a leaf, using the saddle as a pillow. Enzo was seated on the same leaf, picking at an object as if there wasn't anything better to occupy himself with. "Move a bit, won't you? Your fat arse is taking all the space," rumbled Lance, scooting closer to Enzo dramatically. Enzo smacked his leg, outright insulted by the crude remark. "Excuse you," replied Enzo, "I was the one who found the leaf! You move!"
"I shall do no such thing—"
"Could you stop bickering?" interrupted Riona pressing at her temples, desperately trying to expel her developing headache. To her luck, the two hushed on command.
A twig snapped, snatching all their attention. Riona's pointy ears were strained up, her eyes zoomed in and her hand on the hilt of her sword. Enzo squinted, whispering, "I don't see anything. Must have been a beetle..."
"A beetle wouldn't go quiet right after," said Riona, still alert.
"Well if I were being stared at like I'm a piece of food, I would go quiet too," chuckled Lance, leaning back down. Riona sent him a glare. "Could you be a little bit more serious?"
Enzo stood, dusting himself off. "I volunteer to go look."
The legs of the princess moved on their own as she jumped. "No, I will. I insist."
Lance peered up, commenting, "You just want to leave us and enjoy the scenery."
"There is hardly any scenery to see," said Enzo, "We butterflies can't see in the dark." Riona stayed silent as Lance rolled his eyes. "I was being sarcastic you nitwit," he mumbled.
Riona twirled on her heel, waving them off. "I shall leave you to... argue about whatever." And she left exceptionally rash, her wings fluttering. She flew a fair distance above the grass to avoid any toad's tongues from yanking her into the pits of their ugly stomachs.
The remark about night vision slightly bothered the princess. Her eyes adjusted to the dusk lighting splendidly without trouble. Maybe their eyes need to be dark like mine to see, she thought. Suddenly her eyes caught a light in the distance. A torch, so she ducked, diving into the grass. She was still on the edge of the forest and hadn't expected any other people yet. It is night, maybe the Moths are moving about, she assumed, I guess I should walk then.
Her senses stayed alert. Riona waited a good moment before trudging delicately. She peeked from under the tall grass strands hoping to catch a glimpse of any enemy. Hiding from the sky, she made her way towards the darkness of the forest. Some excitement tickled her stomach but it could easily have been mistaken for fear. She experienced herself sweating under her leather straps. Her tunic dampened around her neck. Her wings dragged slightly behind her as she folded them, scared that light would reflect from them.
Her feet halted. There is was, the looming darkness of the forest. Riona found herself intimidated by the sheer immenseness of the trees. Never would she have imagined standing this close to the forest, yet it had this strange inviting aura to it. It must be a warning. There is a reason why we don't survive there, wondered Riona.
Her boot stepped back, resulting in a crackle of dry leaves. She flinched but not as much as when another leaf scrunched further from her. Her heart pounded in her chest, her body frozen and her eyes filled with absolute terror.
Something or someone stepped closer. Riona internally scolded herself, Grab your sword! Grab your sword, you useless idiot! The Moth will attack if you don't attack first! Grab your sword!
Her hand inched towards the grip. Her fingers touched the steel but it was too late. A hand grabbed her shoulder to turn her towards them. An instinct kicked in that would have been much more appreciated before. Her hand balled up in a fist and she swung, hard, blowing a punch to the jaw. Her eyes stretched wildly as the attacker ripped to his side, his hand latching onto the place she struck him. He groaned but soon he was crying in pain. Riona kicked the man in his side. His hands wrapped around her leg though and he pulled her. She reached with claws towards his dark face that was covered under a hood. He dodged her, yelling civilized words to her surprise, "Would you please calm down, princess!"
She retracted her hands at once. "W-who are you," she stuttered, jerking her leg from his grip but the man's fingers dug into the leather of her pants. "No one you need to worry about," replied the man firmly, "I am here to keep an eye on you."
"That calms me no more than a blade would to my throat," she snapped.
"Well, I am not holding any weapon beside your leg, which I would consider a heck of a weapon of yours," joked the stranger. Riona wobbled uncomfortably and he let go. Her hand gripped the hilt of her sword as her eyes scanned this unusual stranger. "You haven't answered who you are," she reminded with a harsh tone. Her heart was still racing, a spike of adrenaline causing her limbs to shake mildly. "I am a helper," he said, "self-appointed."
She already had two volunteers which she wasn't about to rat out. She frowned, snapping, "I don't need a helper."
"Oh, but you do, princess. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have been wandering the darkness this very moment."
"What do you mean? Explain yourself."
"That twig you heard earlier? A pixie had been following you. It was a spy for the Moths since they hate the light and if I hadn't taken care of it, the three of you would have been tied up."
Riona blinked. She opened her mouth: "Prove you are on our side."
The man abided and pulled up the sleeve of his right arm, revealing a mark. Riona stepped closer for a better inspection. She spotted the royal seal on his arm. Every knight, spy and guard was required to be marked, a symbol of their loyalty and trust in the monarchs. Riona raised a brow to question, "What are you? A retired knight?"
His voice was far too smooth to be old but he didn't seem too young either. He was tall, once again the typical body type of a guard or soldier. Though if he had been a knight, she would have recognized him. The man laughed, "I am far from retired, princess. I can assure you, I am as young as you are. I might have been a bit slow to catch your punch but I am as young as you are."
"You seem to have trouble answering questions," she said annoyed, "What are you?"
The man smiled, his face still partially hidden, "A fighter raised as a Shadow. More I will not share."
As a child, Riona had learnt about the people who were referred to as "Shadows". They were mindfully picked individuals raised to be assassins. No one knew their exact identities, hence why he must have refused to give out his name. Shadows swear to protect the throne at all costs on the last day of their training. After that, they are encouraged to move around the kingdom. They listen in on conversations and steal things that no one will notice, all for the safety of the crown. They do not choose sides, they only dedicate themselves to the king or queen (whoever is the chosen monarch).
Riona now understood the man's intentions fully so her grip relaxed on her sword. She was to be the next queen so logically he was there to help as he had stated.
"It is an honour to be in your presence," said the princess, slightly bowing her head out of respect, "I have been a fan of your history ever since I was a little girl. I admire the work of the Shadows."
The man smirked, happy to hear a princess admit her appreciation to him, "The pleasure is all mine, princess."
"Riona, please call me by my name. We are equals on this mission," she said with a smile. The man seemed to stare at her for a moment. It wasn't just any day that the princess offers someone to drop formalities — he liked it.
"Riona, how marvellous," he mused, "Now back to the surroundings. If you head further into the forest you will find a stream. There the Moths have set camp."
"Is their king with them?" asked Riona.
"Of course, he is with them. He doesn't leave his people."
"Then we ambush him?"
"No. Never go for the head of the snake immediately. You must draw it out of its hole to where you want it, then strike."
"You sound just like my brother," she admitted, converting her eyes to her boots.
The Shadow man rested a hand on her slumped shoulder. "You must learn that the sword is not always the solution. You reach for it too quickly to fully understand the situation. Such an attitude shall be your downfall if you are not focused. Plan carefully because all situations require calculation," explained the man softly. Riona nodded, her expression slightly uncertain. She had much to learn, that she was willing to admit to her stubborn self. At least the Shadow didn't make her feel incompetent.
"I propose we move in on the silently and watch for now. Your fire friend will have to know exactly where to place the bombs. For that, we must observe."
"Lead the way, Sir Shadow," she said, motioning her hand for him to walk ahead. He smirked, his feet carrying him closely past her. She followed right after, mimicking his every step, in fear of stepping on a leaf. Perhaps she could learn more than one thing from the Shadow.
*°*
The man raised a palm, signalling her to halt. With two fingers he pointed left, motioning Riona to move beside his crouched body. On all fours, the process crawled behind a branch. Her view was obstructed by the object so her face edged to peep over the moulding stick. Before her were green-lit fires. They weren't bright like their flames, which stirred a curiosity in her. What did the Moths use for wood? On a further side stood a few assumed to be guards. Their wings were pale brown. Some had deeper brown wings with light blotches. From what she could spot, there were women guards too with hair as curly as the tendrils of the Passion vine. Their waves were wild and tangled, yet tied back by thin strips of grass. Riona had till then only seen braids, never a hairstyle that resembled the tail of a flutterhorse.
Closer to her right sat two men. The one was large in size and the other more slender. "That is their king, Zagreus," whispered the Shadow man. Riona couldn't tear her eyes from him. Their king had this aura to him, one of threatening blood thirst. One of fierce fire. One of familiarity. The princess was immersed in the appearance of the king. He didn't seem as monstrous like as the butterfly folk described him to be. He was every bit civilized as they were. He had ordinary hands, not claws. He had normal wings, without spikes running down his spine. And his eyes were deep brown, not blood red.
"You have his eyes," said the Shadow man out of the blue, swiftly knocking Riona from her trance. She frowned, her lips mouthing, "What?"
The Shadow man pointed to her and then the Moths. "Do you not see the similarities? Or are you too afraid to look deeper?"
Riona's heart dropped... Not because of how unbelievable the audacity of the shocking comparison was but rather because she did see it.
"My mother really was a wench..." she stated silently, a single tear escaping the prison of her tearduct that had once run dry.
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