3

Ivy urges him to begin the demonstration. Camui nods and, kneeling, places the wooden figure on the ground near his legs. He raises the knife and in one motion buries it in the real hare, almost touching the ground beneath.

A dry crunching sound is heard. A vertical crack appears all over the figure. The wood blackens as if rotten, crumbles into a pile of dust that is soon carried away by the breeze. Tiny points of light rise up the knife to envelop Camui's hand, and spread across his body, surrounding him with a scintillating glow that, according to his grandfather, only the sculptor who destroys the work can see.

For Camui the royal hare is a furtive but brave creature. Even with a small body, the hare never hesitates to rise above the big rocks of the river or the high hills like a king watching over his kingdom, nor does he hesitate to challenge beasts that far surpass him in size, always relying on his skill and his reflexes. The hare holds tons of courage, the same courage that rubs off on the boy.

Camui takes a deep breath. Plants his hands in the grasses and retracts his fingers, plucking a few blades of grass. Stands up, feeling lighter and full of energy. He prances about, switching feet, buoyed by the confidence of an animal that is impossible to hunt. Lifts his face and surveys the village. Villagers who meet his gaze hurry to avoid it, stifled by the boy's will.

Camui's attention follows long, until it is riveted on the four guards in sketchy armor, and the seeker with the band of golden towers. He remembers what he told him, the belittlement.

How long did it take you to make it? Fifteen minutes?

Camui's chest swells with fire. That man damaged his pride... A small pride that Camui never paid attention to, but under the effect of the statuette, it becomes precious and very delicate. Intoxicated by the lightness, Camui rushes forward, so fast that Ivy has no chance to catch his arm.

The boy, agile as a wild beast, zigzags through the crowd. He knocks a girl on her ass by his sudden appearance. The girl screams at him, but he keeps going. Each new step brings him closer to the seeker, who at that moment turns his back on him, unaware of what is coming.

Camui bends his knees, and leaps impossibly high for his skinny legs. He climbs more than three meters and lands on a nearby roof. Immediately, and without his balance faltering, his feet resume his steps. He jumps onto another house, and another. Breaks a few shingles in his haste and, without stopping, slaps a weather vane with his open hand as he passes.

For an instant he feels like wind, and embracing that feeling he jumps again, this time throwing both legs forward. Towards his soles the target approaches: the seeker's head. Both feet make contact. One toe digs into his nose and the other into his eye. They fall together.

An uproar arises among the travelers and villagers. Immediately a ring of people forms around the men of Fortalementa. The mayor makes his way to witness the scene with horror...

The prospector is on the ground, with his mouth open and his eyes blank, a trickle of blood runs from his mouth and a front tooth is missing from his well cared for dentition. Camui lies on the seeker's body, trembling and panting, unable to move his legs because of the pain that lashes his muscles, and the burning that collapses his lungs. All the euphoria of his little pride, already gone.

Fortalementa's men unsheathe their swords and point them at the boy. Camui is too tired to notice, he keeps his eyes closed and forces himself to focus on breathing. He inhales, exhales, endures the pain.

The guards demand answers from the mayor, but he stammers with his hands up as if looking for an excuse, before saying that Camui is not part of the community.

"He is a savage who lives in the outskirts. I beg you not to judge his actions as if they were our own, he is no one to us"

It would be the seeker who would settle the fate of the village... When he wakes up.

For the moment the guards comply by beating the boy to death. One of them takes a step forward, grabs Camui by the thick bush of hair to force him away from the eagle, and readies the flat side of his sword.

"Get your filthy hand away from him" a stern voice interrupts the beating.

The crowd opens in two, pushed by a dominating presence like the heat of a volcano. The woman approaches and faces the four armed men. She rolls her eyes at the one holding Camui by the hair.

"Or do you want to know how wood feels when it burns?"

The guards tremble without needing an introduction. They see the wide pointed hat, the hand, the two angry faces formed by the knots of the cane. They stifle a gasp, training and battle experience allowing them to maintain their boldness and composure for a few moments, but the bravery burns away as soon as Ivy strikes the earth with the bottom of her staff.

They smell smoke like a warning of fire. The four back away and leave Camui alone. They swallow saliva as they remember stories of flame and death. Stories of Arboreal.