Chapter Thirteen : Towards Azrynia

The sun was finally starting to bid a warm goodbye to the prolific day, gently summoning the night in its blazing wake. The woods slowly stilled, the irenic atmosphere mercifully coaxing the creatures of the night to sing their arrivals.

Birds sang their farewells, rodents stirred behind the bushes and a cool breeze kissed the quiescent woods. Only the sound of the horses pressing their hooves onto the crisp, crunchy leaves sliced through the silent air.

The air was indeed calming, but the wizards travelling through these woods felt anything but that.

With their eyes sharp and shoulders rolled back, they trudged along the thickets, steadily preparing their hearts and minds for whatever is coming their way.

Yet, for one specific wizard, it was seemingly difficult to do that.

The sickening feeling inside Ayra's chest grew deeper and deeper with every step they took towards the thick, abeyant Tryvyan forest hidden beyond the mountains. Invisible hands rose and grabbed her entire body, wickedly trying to swallow her and bury her deep inside the abyss of despair.

Eight years. It had been eight years since she left the village. Eight years since she shed the soul of her younger self back at that very place and rose out of there as another being.

But now, on her way to Azrynia, Ayra felt as though she didn't completely shed her old soul.

One hand firmly held the calfskin reins of her lofty, white steed. And the other hand delicately clasped the locket resting beneath her riding garb.

It was an anchor that she could hold onto. It always has been. But now she was aware of it. Too aware of it. And she didn't have the foggiest idea whether it was a good or a bad thing.

A handful of astral guards accompanied them on this dangerous endeavour but Ayra supposed the number was sufficient since it was believed that the four Guardians were an army of their own.

Also, to lay it out plainly, the Tryvyan Forest was unearthly. Blood-curdling creatures prowled behind the shadows of that thick forest. Drawing too much attention would end up in losing a few lives and nobody wished for that.

The Tryvyan Forest. When she was young, the other children of the village would never step near that deathly forest, wouldn't dare to breathe in its path. But Ayra had always been intrigued by this forest. She didn't know what was so entrancing about the forest, but she felt it call to her. But she never stretched a hand back. Even though her younger self was reckless and foolish, she never crossed those boundaries. 

And as scary as the Tryvyan forest was, the genuine danger lay beyond it. 

The ruins of the First Gate.

It was the sole reason why the Tryvyan Forest, despite being so beautiful, had transformed into a place no normal being could journey through.

They say that the dark energy behind the Gate drew in supernatural creatures that still walked this world even after the Seven Gates were sealed shut. They say it was a delicate calling from these creatures' home itself.

Ayra had never seen the ruins and didn't dare to even think about it. Her little legs would always stop behind the magical barriers encompassing the perimeters of the forest, along with her whimsical interest and dauntlessness.

But she had spent countless times, standing behind the magical wards and staring at the forest, its haziness morphing into a quiet call of a siren.

Ayra, to this day, never comprehended this frightful fascination that she bore for this place. Maybe it was because a guileless child like her had never seen what lurked beyond.

But now, Ayra knew what walked behind the darkness.

Terras. Terras--cannibalistic species of creatures that were akin to Nightwalkers, rested somewhere deep inside those backwoods. Various sorts and forms of these horrible species existed in this world, but Ayra didn't know how many of them the Tryvyan Forest bore in its womb. 

Ayra had her head bowed and shoulders drooped forward, eyes wary and alert. The evening wind whistled, signalling that darkness had begun to fall. 

A smooth voice clashed with her thoughts. 

"Care to share the reason for that little frown on your face?"

Ayra turned her surprised eyes towards Aslan.

"Huh?"

Aslan smiled faintly, his eyes lighting up with amusement. The warm orange gleam of the sunset softly kissed his chestnut brown hair and his honey-hued eyes.

He was beautiful. 

"You were frowning the entire journey. I couldn't help but ask what's gnawing your mind." He inclined his head. "Are you perhaps worried? Or scared?"

Ayra bit her lip and faced towards the front. 

Her eyes zeroed in on Neslyn and Valda, who were riding a couple of metres in the front and indulging in a conversation with Rydan. Ayra also didnt fail to notice how Cressa carefully treaded behind Valda and close to a quiet Ryo.

She pondered the question.

Worried? Certainly. Scared? No.

She was terrified.

"What about you? Aren't you worried or scared?" Ayra shot back and glanced at Aslan, surprised to find his gaze already fixed on her.

Aslan noticed the deviation but didn't press further. Instead, his lips pulled back into a smirk.

"I would be lying if I said no." He conceded with a broad smile.

Ayra blinked.

"Now now, don't look at me like that." He chuckled, his eyes shining accordingly.

"I may be a Guardian but I'm still a human, you know. Besides, I'm certain every wizard here is feeling the same way. I would be surprised if someone didn't harbour such feelings at all."

Ayra supposed he was right. She glanced around, seeing how every shoulder was tense with unspoken apprehension and uneasiness. She was so consumed in her thoughts that she didn't notice at all.

"I wonder, " she began, taking a gander at each wizard riding in front of her.

"How many of us will return alive."

It was quiet for a moment. Ayra bit her lip. 

"I apologise. That was insensitive of me."

Aslan gently shook his head.

"Don't apologise, Ayra. You are not the only one who is having such thoughts." He smiled solemnly.

"I'm certain you realize that this mission is very different to the other missions that were assigned to us. Everyone here understands the heaviness of this situation and is similarly ready for whatever awaits us."

Aslan faced ahead, his smile dropping a fraction.

"Even if it is death."

Her hands tightened on the reins.

"Every mission that you and I went on was always heading towards the end. Death breathed down on our necks every single time, Ayra. We walked hand in hand with the reaper every time we embarked on such perilous journeys."

"But look at us now, still alive and kicking. How do you think that happened?"

Ayra listened quietly, her shoulder feeling lighter and lighter with every word Aslan expressed.

"It's because we are wizards, Ayra. We have a duty to perform and a promise to fulfil. And this duty and promise intertwine and fills our heart with tremendous courage."

"Courage to fight till we die.

"Besides, this is not the first time we are fighting those dreadful demons. We have always been fighting them. What difference does it make now?"

He inclined his head, his smile unforgivingly consoling.

"This is just like any other mission."

Ayra's heart slightly surged with strength. Her mind felt more focused and invigorated now.

Just like any other mission.

She replayed these words in her head, again and again, the impact of these simple words reliably pushing down her previous thoughts.

"Just another mission, huh." She quietly asked, her lips curving. 

"Yes, " he beamed. "Just another mission."

Ayra smiled back and Aslan returned it wholeheartedly.

A gentle wind blew and Ayra slowly relished in the feeling.

So," Aslan droned with a prodding grin,

"Even a wizard of Foxerall feels such emotions, huh?"

Ayra simply shrugged.

"You can imagine my surprise when I heard a Guardian such as yourself shared similar feelings as well." 

Aslan chuckled. "There's not much of a difference, then. However, this ought to be our little secret though. No one else can know that the mighty Guardians and the strongest wizards of Foxerall are capable of having such humane feelings. Fear of death? How unusual."

Ayra softly chuckled.

"Your secret is safe in my hands then."

Aslan smiled, his eyes twinkling. 

"And yours is safe in mine."

They shared another warm smile with each other before sliding into a comfortable silence.

Ayra slightly faced the evening sky, closing her eyes and breathing in the fresh breeze. The soft strands of her moon-white hair lightly fluttered against her cheek. 

"You..." Aslan started and Ayra turned to face him.

But before he could continue, Rydan's voice boomed towards them.

"The night is beginning to fall. We shall rest for now and leave first thing in the morning."

Ayra almost sighed in relief. 

ווו×

Ayra couldn't sleep at all.

Her eyes were fully open, intently gazing at the top of the makeshift tent that they were presently sleeping in. Her gaze was clear and her ears softly listened to the wind sing outside. 

It carried the endless chirping of the crickets to her ears and whispered the soft murmurs of the nightly creatures behind the trees. She heard the distant hooting of the barred owls and the soft singing of the mocking birds.

It was a pleasant night.

Ayra sighed. Unwinding herself from Neslyn's arms and Valda's legs, she silently straightened up to her feet. She crouched down on her knees and slowly pulled up the thick, warm coverlet over her best friends' bodies, softly tucking them in.

After a fleeting glance at a dozing Valda and Neslyn, Ayra spun around and quietly left the tent.

She immediately felt the cool wind kiss her face. She curved her fingers, gently caressing the wind with her power and feeling it respond to her.

Makeshift tents were scattered all around and about the small clearing. It was dead quiet. Everyone seemed to be asleep.

Ayra decided to check on the horses but before she could head towards them, the wind carried a soft rustling sound to her.

A little figure ventured out of one of the Guardians' tents and trudged towards the deep woods.

The wind whistled.

It was Ryo.

Ayra raised her eyebrows in confusion.

And without a second thought, followed the Guardian into the darkness.