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Chapter 18 - chapter 18: Eyes in the Dark

As night fell, the forest darkened under a shroud of silence.

The slivers of moonlight that pierced through the thick branches barely reached the blood-stained earth.

Time itself seemed to slow, stretching each second into an eternity.

The air hung heavy-dense with the iron scent of blood, sweat, and dread.

Crickets chirped louder than usual, their chorus unnerving, and the distant howls of animals-once a warning-now felt like harmless whispers.

Because tonight, the true threat didn't wear fangs or claws.

It wore armor.

It wielded blades.

It bled loyalty.

Tonight, the forest wasn't ruled by beasts.

It was ruled by men-and men can be far more dangerous.

Fabale held the half-conscious Octavio in his arms, his heart pounding louder than the chaos in his head.

What's happening...? That arrow... friend or enemy? Octavio... blood... danger... what do I do...?

His thoughts swirled violently, yet his body stayed still-locked in place, cradling Octavio close, eyes scanning the shadowed forest.

Then-

"Fa...Fabale...?"

Octavio's faint voice sliced through Fabale's mental storm, dragging him back to the present.

Fabale looked down.

Octavio lay miserably in his arms-his body marked by cuts and bruises, blood seeping from the wound. Fabale hadn't even realized his hands were already pressing tightly over it, trying to stop the bleeding.

With effort, Fabale forced a small smile and said softly,

"Look at these honor marks on your body... singing your bravery, warrior prince."

His hands moved quickly now-ripping a strip of cloth from his own sleeve, tying it around the wound with trembling fingers, yet careful hands.

Octavio gave a faint smile in return.

It was weak... but it reached his eyes. Pride. Trust.

Fabale's chest ached. But now was not the time.

He leaned in close and whispered,

"But we need to move... Can you bear with me a little, Octavio?"

Because Fabale knew-they weren't alone.

Someone was out there.

Watching. Waiting.

But whether they were friend or foe... was still a mystery wrapped in darkness.

Fabale stumbled through the forest, one arm supporting Octavio's weight, the other gripping his sword tightly. Shadows stretched long under the trees, the forest now steeped in the eerie silence that only came before a storm-or after bloodshed.

Then, he saw it.

A massive tree, roots like thick veins crawling across the earth. And beside it-a hollow, half-covered with wild grass and tangled vines. A cave.

It didn't look man-made. No signs of tool or stonework. The claw marks faintly carved into the stone walls hinted at an old inhabitant-maybe a bear.

But now wasn't the time to worry about that.

Fabale gently lowered Octavio onto a patch of moss under the tree's sheltering branches. His friend groaned softly but didn't stir. Fabale placed a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"I'll check. Stay right here."

Sword drawn, Fabale crouched and stepped into the cave's mouth. He listened. Waited. Sniffed the air.

No growl. No scent of rot. No warm animal breath.

Just silence and the distant rustling of trees.

"Looks like it's abandoned..." he murmured, half to himself.

Without wasting another second, he returned and dragged Octavio inside-careful not to jostle the injury.

Inside, it was cold. Damp. But safer than being out in the open.

Fabale laid Octavio down carefully, then exited to gather whatever he could-dried leaves, straw, fallen branches, a few stones.

He worked swiftly, fingers aching from exhaustion, but heart thumping with urgency.

He built the fire like his mother once taught him-small, focused, shielded from wind.

Sparks lit. A tiny flame danced to life.

Warmth finally bloomed in the cave.

Kneeling at Octavio's side, Fabale cleaned the wound gently. His movements were slow, delicate. Then something in his bag caught his eye-

The ointment given by the innkeeper's wife.

Fabale let out a soft, breathy chuckle.

"Who knew it would be used like this..." he whispered, unscrewing the lid.

With solemn hands, he applied the balm to Octavio's wounds. Then bandaged them tightly, sealing away the blood and pain.

Afterward, Fabale pulled out the wild herbs he had foraged over the last three days-crushing them with smooth stones, mixing with water until a bitter paste formed. He fed it slowly to Octavio, supporting his head, brushing stray strands of hair from his face.

Octavio swallowed weakly and drifted to sleep again.

The cave fell quiet.

Fabale shifted beside him, finally tending to his own bruises and cuts. He wrapped the cloth tightly, biting down the sting.

Then-he laid his weapons at arm's reach, but remained sitting upright.

Sword across his lap.

Eyes locked on the fire.

No sleep.

Only thoughts.

The flames danced on his face as he murmured to the silence,

"How much pain must this jungle demand... for the one I hold dear?"

--------

The night offered no answer.

Only wind.

And the soft rise and fall of Octavio's breath beside him.

Beyond the flickering warmth of the cave fire, the forest slept under a shroud of whispers and shadows.

But high above, perched among the thick branches of an ancient tree, a pair of golden eyes gleamed in the dark-watchful, unwavering.

The figure remained still, save for one hand pressing tightly against his bleeding left arm. Blood trickled down his elbow, staining the fabric beneath.

Yet his gaze never strayed.

"They're safe... at least."

The voice barely left his lips. The pain was secondary. Watching over the two princes-that was the mission now.

---

Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, far from the treacherous woods, a different kind of flame crackled-one fueled not by wood, but by burning secrets.

In the dim, opulent chamber of Minister Edrew, a fire roared inside a marble hearth. Shadows danced on the walls, but none darker than the man's expression.

He stood alone, a single letter clenched in his gloved hand, freshly delivered by a messenger bird.

The parchment read:

> "Mission failed."

A flick of his wrist. The letter spiraled into the flames, curling at the edges, ink turning to ash.

Edrew didn't blink.

Then-a second bird arrived, talons clutching another scroll. Edrew removed the note, eyes scanning the contents swiftly.

> "Revas heading to Rala. Delegation approved by the king."

Edrew's jaw tightened. His fingers crumpled the letter slowly-deliberately.

"So... Revas," he muttered, voice low and venom-laced.

"You're not just crossing the border now-

you're crossing ME ."

Behind him, the fire cracked, swallowing his silence.

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