Danger

The conversation with Lady Nabila stretched into the late hours of the night, sharing stories. As she finally took her leave, the quiet solitude of the tent enveloped me, but sleep remained elusive. Perhaps it was the unsettling events of the day or the lingering effects of my earlier fatigue, where I ended up sleeping the whole day but my mind refused to settle into rest.

Tossing and turning in bed, I found myself caught in a restless cycle, my thoughts swirling with unanswered questions and unspoken fears. With a sigh of resignation, I decided to abandon the futile pursuit of sleep and seek solace in the company of the night.

Wrapping myself in a white coat against the chill of the evening air, I emerged from the confines of my tent, guided by the flickering glow of the campfire. As I approached, the comforting warmth of the flames beckoned me closer, drawing me into the circle of light cast by its radiant embrace.

A group of guards, their faces illuminated by the dancing firelight, sat gathered around the crackling flames, their voices mingling in hushed conversation. Their presence offered a sense of familiarity in the midst of the unfamiliar.

One of the young guards, his demeanour respectful yet approachable, noticed my arrival and greeted me with a warm smile. "Princess Daniella, why out this late" he says standing at attention.

''Be at ease,'' I say, ''i simply lacked sleep, care if I join you.''

''Yes,'' he says his tone reverent as he pours a cup of hot tea from a nearby pot. "Would you care for some tea?"

Grateful for the offer, I nodded in response, accepting the steaming cup with a murmured thanks. The fragrant aroma of the herbal tea enveloped me, soothing my senses as I settled into a seat beside the young guard, grateful for the simple comfort it provided.

"Please continue with your stories," I requested, a hint of anticipation lacing my words. "I would love something entertaining to distract me from my restless thoughts."

The other guards, initially tense in my presence, seemed to relax at my invitation, their expressions softening as they prepared to regale me with tales of adventure and intrigue. 

"This gentleman from Solaragrath was telling us about airborne elephants," one of the royal guards from my Division One remarks.

The guard who offered me tea smiles and corrects him, "They're not airborne elephants; they're called air tusks."

Intrigued, I inquire further, "So how does such a big animal fly?"

"They're trained by a tribe in the valleys called Tuskers," he explains, "but I think it's more about magic because not all the elephants fly."

Fascinated by the concept, I press for more details, "So what are they used for? Are they used only by that tribe? what magic is used?"

"They're not commercially used because they have a large temper, and when they poop from the sky, it's rather unfortunate for the people below," he responds matter-of-factly, prompting laughter from me and the other guards at the vivid imagery.

"Are you serious?" I manage to ask between giggles, imagining the absurd scenario. "The unfortunate souls below. I'm guessing they're not popular with the people."

"Not at all," he confirms with a shake of his head, indicating their lack of popularity.

As our conversation shifts, one of the guards from my unit chimes in, expressing understanding, which elicits nods of agreement from the others.

"What's more interesting in the kingdom?" I inquire, eager to learn about their way of life. "Do people use magic in their day-to-day activities? How is the medicine there?"

The guards exchange knowing glances, seemingly pondering the best way to answer my questions, setting the stage for a fascinating exchange of insights and experiences from their homeland.

"Well," he begins, "I'm not the best person to ask about the medicine field, but for magic, it's used by everyone, especially women and the craft industry, men too use magic but they aren't good"

"It sounds beautiful," I comment, intrigued by the contrast with the attitudes toward magic in the Far South. "Unlike in the Far South, a lot of people don't like using magic. Those who have it tend to use it for..."

Before I can finish my sentence, I'm suddenly tackled to the ground, startled by the unexpected assault. As I turn, I see a spear land dangerously close to me, my heart pounding with adrenaline. I look up and meet the gaze of Vider, his presence looming over me. The guards spring into action, grabbing their weapons and assuming defensive positions, ready to protect me at all costs.

Vider's hands around my waist, pulling me in close, elicit conflicting emotions within me, a mixture of fear and a strange sense of comfort. Despite this, I push him away and scramble to my feet, unable to stay put as curiosity compels me to scan the surroundings for the source of the threat.

"Princess, stay put!" one of my guards shouts urgently, but I can't heed the command, my instincts urging me to assess the situation. It doesn't make sense; the attack couldn't have come from above the trees. 

Vider retrieves his axe from his back, his gaze scanning the area for any signs of danger. The other guards form a protective circle around me, their weapons at the ready. Moments later, bandits emerge from the shadows, dragging everyone out of their tents, including the handmaidens, Lady Nabila, Miss Motan, Miss Mary, and others.

They're dressed in all black, their faces obscured by masks, and they brandish weapons, including a menacing-looking magic rifle.

"Drop your weapons!" one of the masked men commands, his voice cold and authoritative, signalling the dire situation we find ourselves in.

Everyone seems to take his order and lays down their weapons, submitting to the bandits' demands, except for Vider, who maintains a composed demeanour, his resolve unshaken. I stand in front of him, my gaze is unwavering as I confront the bandit who issued the demand.

"What do you want?" I inquire in a diplomatic tone, masking the revulsion I feel at his base desires.

"Just some gold and women," he replies, his tone dripping with contempt, sending shivers down my spine. Despite my efforts, a small giggle escapes me, unable to contain my disbelief at his audacity.

"Gold and women," I echo, my tone laced with thinly veiled disdain. "You expect us to comply with such base desires?"

The bandit's expression darkens with irritation at my response, his arrogance palpable. "We'll take what we want," he asserts menacingly, his voice dripping with malice.

Refusing to cower before him, I meet his gaze with unwavering resolve. "You'll find no compliance here," I declare firmly, my words ringing with defiance.

Suddenly, Flora's screams pierce the tense atmosphere, her voice echoing with desperation as she pleads to be released. Moments later, she's brought next to the campfire, her limbs bound and her face bruised. I notice a scratch on one of the bandit's faces, evidence of Flora's resistance.

"This one's feisty," he remarks, callously dropping her to the ground.

Concerned for her safety, I move to approach her, but the bandit in front of me swiftly draws a knife to my neck, halting my advance.

As the bandit presses the knife closer to my neck, I instinctively step back, feeling the cold steel against my skin. "Didn't your mother teach you not to draw a knife on a lady?" I challenge, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me. "If that blade so much as grazes my skin, you'll regret it."

''PRINCESS??,'' Miss Motan's urgent call breaks through the tension, prompting me to reconsider my choice of words. .

"Pardon my language," I amend, searching for a more diplomatic approach. "If it poses a threat to me, you'll face the consequences."

''Much better,'' Miss Motan's approval reassures me that my revised response strikes the right balance between assertiveness and diplomacy in this perilous situation.

"You're acting cocky, princess," he sneers, his tone laced with arrogance. "We've got this place surrounded. One wrong move and I'll signal them to take all of you down."

I maintain my composure, unfazed by his bravado. "Be my guest," I retort, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me. The others around the fire watch in surprise at my boldness.

"I'm not easily threatened by such matters," I continue, my gaze piercing. "You have approximately 30 men surrounding us, along with about 9 or 10 women. Your caravan is located roughly a mile from here, heavily armed. Your tactical ambush when our manpower was depleted was well-executed, and I commend your crew for it, but you are still outnumbered, outmuscled, and definitely outmagicked.''

The bandit's grip on his gun tightens, his expression growing more hostile. "What are you getting at, princess?" he demands, his voice tinged with frustration.

"I'm offering you and your crew a chance to leave here alive," I declare, raising my hand to display my fingers. "But make no mistake. When I snap my fingers, anyone within a 500-meter radius whom I consider a threat will be eliminated."