Chapter Twenty: Road to the Tryvyan Forest

At the first crack of dawn, various feet marched into the borders of the town of Azrynia.

Ayra looked straight ahead ever since they entered the borders of her hometown, forcing herself to not look at the familiar areas spread all around. It was arduous to pass by the very prairies in which she had spent time playing around when she was a mere child.

She repeatedly reminded herself that it was simply one more mission and nothing more. But it was hard. So hard that her hand couldn't let go of the locket resting at the base of her neck.

The atmosphere was still dark, an early morning bluish hue kissing her surroundings that warmly indicated the arrival of the flaming ball of fire in the sky.

At the foot of the hills, few people from the town stood.

The Lord of Azrynia, along with the other superiors stood below the hill. The hill that visibly stood as a formidable barricade between them and the Tryvyan forest lying beyond it.

They dismounted their horses. Ayra quietly stood there, watching as the Guardians and the guards approach the Lord of Azrynia.

A hand gently rested on Ayra's stiff shoulder.

The wind curved around her.

Neslyn and Valda remained on either side of her.

"The wind here seems so...stagnant." Ayra murmured, her power absentmindedly nudging at the heavy air around her.

The fingers on her shoulder curved ever so slightly.

"It's just the wind, Ayra," Valda stressed in a solemn voice.

Ayra didn't answer to that. Instead, she discreetly advanced forward, with Neslyn and Valda walking next to her.

The Lord and the superiors paused when Ayra approached them. Eyes grew wide with pure recognition and heavy with raw sadness. She also didn't fail to notice of their eyes grew dark with cursed memories.

"How are you, Ayra?"

Lord Gabriell Reynard asked with a kind smile. A smile so familiar that cruelly installed a deep nostalgia within her. Ayra mentally shook her head and took in his features, observing what time had done to the man.

His hair had begun to grey and his eyes crinkled, embraced with small crescents around them but she soon realised that age did nothing to his handsome features.

A fleeting thought passed through her head and she wondered how Cecilia Reynard looked now. She also wondered how the other children of the town looked now.

Ayra slightly bowed her head. "I'm fine, my Lord."

She raised her head, slowly taking in everyone's appearance. They looked so different now, so unfamiliar that the dormant memories of them slightly grew with changes in her head.

Ayra remembered playing pranks on them when she was young. Remembered getting an earful from them for being such a brat.

But now, to them, Ayra was not the little, impish brat of the town anymore. To them, she was the last child who survived. To them, she was the child who lost everything. To them, she was the child who can't smile as she did before. 

To them, Ayra was deserted in this world.

And she could see all of this in their shadowed eyes. The sadness, the pity, the hidden rage and the silent condolence. She could see everything.

And she didn't like it. She didn't like it at all.

The Lord and the others began giving details about the mission to them. But Ayra didn't pay attention. She couldn't pay attention when she stood atop the very grounds she saw her loved ones play and walk on.

The wind quietly hovered around her quiet structure, as though it was attempting to ward away all the reasons that troubled her endlessly.

A couple of moments went by like that, with Ayra just hiding inside the small, secluded shell that she mentally made for herself.

When the short meeting came to an end, they immediately began venturing up the mountains and towards the Tryvyan Forest resting beyond.

A few villagers accompanied them on their way to the forest. With the orders from Lord Gabrielle himself, they were asked to show the secret path that the priests used to venture in and out of the ruins.

This secret trail that served as a shortcut was heavily protected by magical wards. It would be seemingly easier and safer for them to pass through the deadly Tryvyan forest without arresting the attention of the dark, otherworldly creatures breathing inside.

The early morning sun blazed brightly above the woods. It was lovely and pleasant, yet the warriors were unable to enjoy the warm essence of it.

Ayra had a steady grip on her reins as she listened to the conversation flowing between Rydan and a Senior that the Lord decided to send as a form of authority. 

"It has been three days already and no one has managed to find out what is going on inside that forest?" Rydan questioned.

The man shook his head. "No. We discharged twenty guards as soon as we received the admonition." He grew silent, his next words lowering to a frosty degree,

"But the guards never returned."

The wind came to a deadly halt. No one spoke for a while. Even Rydan seemed tongue-tied at that statement, his expression growing visibly remorseful.

"What happened to the injured priest that you found that night? He must know what had occurred inside the ruins."

"The priest died the next day before we could even question him. He was already half-dead and completely bloodied up when the villager found him."

"Any information after examining his body?" Rydan prodded further.

"None that would give us a lead. Heavy claw marks and teeth imprints marred his entire body. We believed that he got caught by a group of terras while attempting to flee from whatever was inside the ruins."

Ayra quietly wondered why he didn't use this secret, ward-protected path that they were currently heading to. 

Rydan eyes grew heavy with a never-ending sea of thoughts and she wondered if he arrived at the same decision.

"A herd of terras could've ambushed the ruins then. I mean, it's been three days and there are no signs of any demons either. So that could be a possibility too, right?" Cressa chimed in.

The man shook his head. "That can't be the case. The perimeters around the ruins are heavily protected by wards too, just like the perimeters of the entire forest is. A normal terras can't possibly break through it."

"Then..." Ayra started,

"Whatever creature is inside there either emerged from the Gate or from outside the forest."

Everyone quietened. No one even dared to breathe.

"What if the Gate is already open and the demons are waiting for us?"

"What are you saying?" Valda shrieked, shifting her head to see if anyone heard Neslyn.

"That is absurd and absolutely creepy!"

"You never know!" Neslyn argued.

Ayra was quiet, choosing to just listen to their thoughts while she mulled over her own.

The wind suddenly slowed down and Ayra raised her head just in time to see a big, inhumanely large boulder splitting the path into two different trails in front of them.

The villagers guided everyone to the path towards the left. The path that led towards the Tryvyan forest.

But Ayra's eyes lingered on the lone path towards the right. The path that she knew by heart. The path that she had ventured through on various occasions when she was young.

A path that she had always wandered with Ruhnn and Caelan.

The wind grew cold.

She tore her gaze away from it and bent her head down, her hands visibly clenching the calf-skin reins of her steed.

"Ayra? Are you alright?" A soft voice inquired.

She harshly breathed out before raising her head to see Aslan.

His eyes grew heavy with worry at her expression.

"Ayra, you look pale."

"I'm fine." She said, even though she was not.

Aslan didn't prod any further and Ayra wholly appreciated that. Because Celestials know what she would answer him if he did question his curiosity.

"I know we just met and you don't trust me yet. But, " he looked at her, honey-kissed eyes gleaming.

"I'm here if you need me, Ayra."

Ayra's expression softened at those words.

"Thank you, Aslan."

"Ayra!" A voice suddenly called out.

They faced forward and saw Valda waiting a few feet away on her horse.

"What are you both doing? Hurry up! We got no time to spare!" She yelled, waving her hands and signalling them forward.

Aslan smiled at her before nodding his head forward.

"Let's go."

ווו×

After a few hours of walking through the woods, they finally reached the peak of the mountain. The afternoon sun burned fiercely in the sky, swiftly warming up the lands below.

The villagers abruptly stopped in their tracks.

"What's wrong?" Aslan questioned.

One of them just raised a shaky finger towards the front.

Ayra and the others slowly moved their steeds towards the edge of the cliff.

The wind died down. Her powers harshly coiling back in response to the sudden fear that lighted within her.

And everyone, every single person there gasped at the sight in front of them.

The Tryvyan forest was enormous, and now, surrounding that large expanse of deadly lushness, was a swirling mass of pure mist that now shrouded the entire forest.

This was the wall of mist that Elder Michaelis talked about. The inhumane wall of mist that everyone refused to believe.

If this was truly the work of a demon, then they knew for a fact that they would not return alive.

"What the fuck is that?" Cressa breathed out. And this time, Rydan and Aslan didn't reprimand her.

"Oh, Celestials above," Neslyn sent a silent prayer to the Celestials above.

Everyone was paralysed with raw, unadulterated fear. Even the Guardians were struck with similar emotions. And Ayra didn't want to look back at the expressions that the other guards wore.

The raw horror and hopelessness licked at the air around. The tension was so thick that even her power could taste it.

It felt like the mission was coming to end before it could even begin. Because every being that held a sword here realised that whatever lay ahead of them, is unfathomably dangerous and life-threatening. If they would return, the would return as dead bodies and not as survived souls.

And Ayra, even as she stood there, knew that some of them sent their final prayers above.

This is the end, they thought. 

But what everybody didn't know, was that something deadlier than the end itself awaited them.