Morning came bright and early as opening bay doors to the jungle, in the briefest moment when it inhaled and exhaled softly all around. It imparted that aura to Aren and Amira waking under thick trees, where pale beams of dawn wove through leaves.
They climbed down in silence, the cool, crisp air of morning upon their skins.
Side by side they knelt by the edge of the tiny stream, washing their faces. Aren scooped a little water and playfully splashed it over her, but this time she gave nothing more than a calm smile, her thoughts already too far away.
"What's your appetite for another day of monkey attacks and angry vines?" he gently mocked, slinging droplets from his hair. .
Amira stood and flung back her wet hair. "Ready as ever!"
They packed their belongings, tramped through underbrush, and were swallowed up by ferns and moss-grown arboreal giants until finally they reached the narrow gaping mouth of the cave, festooned by a thick veil of ivy.
His first step into darkness, Aren leaned in and pulled an old parchment, its edges frayed and marks faded almost to nothing.
He squinted at it, eyebrows knitting in displeasure. "I think it says... 'Beware of the large rocks and small squirrels?'"
Amira chuckled softly, moving closer. "Let me see, dear," she said, her warmth slightly tempered by firmness.
Without hesitation, he willingly presented the scroll to her.
Scrutinizing it closely, her eyes drifted quickly from the odd runes. With her finger, she traced the lines as she furrowed her brow, her thoughts evidently far away.
Minutes passed, and she shook her head. "I can't read it either. It's simply far, far too old; part of it seems deliberately disguised."
Aren shrugged and shoved the parchment into his pouch. "Well, lucky for us, I never needed a map to get into trouble."
Together they entered the cave as it wrapped itself around them in darkness with cold air rising around. Aren now became infinitely more vigilant, sword firmly gripped.
Suddenly, Aren froze in his tracks. He leant in to Amira and quietly said in her ear, "Do you see that? Over there... shadows moving."
She did not reply.
In confusion, he turned his head back towards her. "Amira?"
Before he could say anything else, loud, weighty steps rang behind them and out of shadows rushed figures, silently and quickly. Strong hands grabbed him; yanking him backward, a rough cloth bag was thrown over his head; a sudden pain lanced his shoulder as they shoved him down onto his knees.
He had his wrists tied shut so tight that he could feel the pulse thudding under them through the roping.
A moment later, the bag was yanked off from his head. Blinking at the sudden blaze from the torches, he lifted his gaze to see her.
Amira stood there calm and resplendent in the flickering cave light before him, as though admiring the what one might call a beautiful piece of art.
"Hello, Laughing Blade," she said, her voice strangely smooth. "I have heard so much about you... and honestly, you have made me laugh. So thank you for that."
Aren really smiled in a crooked manner, while inside his head were whirling thoughts. "Oww, Amira... yeah, nice, I knew it. All along. But I doubted it... Silly me."
Amira raised a hand, and then a guard stepped forward holding out a small glittering object.
"Hand over the Milu," she said softly.
Despite this, Aren's grin did not wither. Oh, the magical lucky charm? You mean the thing everyone assumes makes me unstoppable? Well, I guess you win, my dear.
And hey... don't forget to tie my belt properly after robbing me, alright?"
He laughed, but a thunderous surge echoed through him.
He was not only astonished but felt as though something was snapping inside him.
Amira advanced until she was close to him almost touching his face. "Our kingdom has always wanted these relics," she murmured, voice cold. "And here you are, wandering around with them like a jungle clown.
Now I have the blue and purple Milu, and with them... my people will rise."
Aren stared into her desperate eyes. "You're greedy, my love," he whispered.
For a moment, her gaze did not waver; then she looked away, as if something cracked inside her too.
"I am not a mere tracker or an archer," she said, her voice becoming tender. "I am a princess. The princess of Zehara Kingdom.
And I'm doing this for them."
Words hung cold among the cave's ceilings - like a draught.
It dropped off, chuckling, into mountainside silence. His gaze moved past her to the guards and back at her, a brief spark of sorrow piercing his usual mirth.
"Aha! You always did know how to surprise me," he murmured under his breath.
She turned and walked away, fists clenched, fingers almost trembling. The guards stepped closer, still waiting for her next command.
Aren lowered his head, his peripheral vision all bright and sharp.
A thousand thoughts burned inside him. Anger, confusion, heartbreak - and behind all, one single, very dangerous resolve.
He might be bound now. But Laughing Blade is not finished yet...