Illeron, the bard!

The Elven girl's eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and concern washing over her. She realized that her origins were not as hidden as she had hoped. She wondered how much this stranger knew about her and the kingdom she came from.

"I... I don't understand," she stammered, her voice filled with uncertainty. "How could you possibly know about the Whisperwind kingdom and our preference for calling tangerines as oranges?"

Azrael's gaze remained fixed on her, his eyes piercing through the veil of mystery.

"Let's just say I've traveled far and wide, and my knowledge extends beyond the realms most mortals have ventured," he replied cryptically.

Her mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle before her. Could this be a mere coincidence, or was there something more to this encounter? She couldn't shake off the feeling that fate had brought them together for a reason, intertwining their paths in ways she couldn't comprehend.

"Can I trust you?" she asked, her eyes slowly starting to glow.

He chuckled and shook his head. "I wouldn't trust me if I were you." That much was true. He doesn't trust the girl, and he doesn't trust himself. The moment she reveals anything hidden, she's dead.

A moment passed before she spoke again, "Are you a Witch hunter?"

"No, I'm not."

"But you said, you slew the witch. Was that a lie?" Her heartbeat fastened.

"No. That is true." He replied. "But there was someone else too but unfortunately he didn't make out. He died along with the witch."

"Then what are you?"

"I'm an ally," he replied with a sigh, "At least for now."

The fire was long extinguished. The moon shone brightly overhead, illuminating the woods in a soft, silvery light. The girl and Azrael were still seated by the fire, the embers glowing softly in the darkness.

They were silent for a moment before the girl spoke again.

"My name is Kaitlynn," she said.

'Lies.' he thought.

"Mhmm..." he hummed as he gazed at the Wood's around them. Then he stood and patted his butt. "We need more firewood if we plan to survive the night. I'll look for it."

As Azrael stood up and prepared to venture into the woods to gather firewood, Kaitlynn watched him intently, her eyes still glowing faintly. She couldn't shake off the feeling that there was more to him than met the eye, and she wondered about the secrets he held within him.

He disappeared into the darkness, leaving her alone by the campfire, pondering over their conversation.

***

Azrael thought about his position on all of this and his position for the future. What he was going to do and what was his end game. Revenge was the main goal. But simply taking their lives was not going to be enough. He needed to destroy them completely. He knew that if he wanted to truly have his vengeance; he was going to have to do something much, much worse. He was going to have to find a way to make sure that they will never live again.

'Life is meaningless,' he understood that.

He built an entire life, and it crumbled in front of his eyes like nothing. He wasted time and effort. He wasted his emotions. 20 years of his life wasted just for the gods or demons or devils or...whatever the thing to just rewind it at will. That was ridiculous.

'How many times have they rewind time? How many battles have they listed to rewind it?'

He understood his regression was not because of his merit but rather, it was for something else. Something that he's a part of for some reason.

'Whatever it is, I need to exact my revenge before playing with them.'

He collected the firewood, admired the beauty of the dark, and returned to his camp only to find someone else was also there.

"Who's he?" He dropped the firewood and reached for the knife on his back.

"I don't know. I don't know. He was bleeding and was in a gruesome state when he crawled here." She was tightening a piece of cloth around the boy's stomach, seemingly torn from the helms of her tunic.

Blood still leaked from the boy. He looked rather pale and dying. His dark wavy hair was a mess and his face was covered with cuts, blood, and dirt.

"Ah, well yes, is this your saviour, my good lady? He rather is too cautious. Which is good." He coughed blood. His voice was rather melodic despite being in a dying state.

"Do not talk," the girl fastened the cloth more tightly.

"I suppose I should thank you. You are saving me." his hand reached to her face then fell to the ground like he suddenly died.

She gasped. "Illeron!" she screamed. "Wake up!" she shook him, but there was no reply. His tongue lolled out and his eyes were also closed.

'Illeron? Who the hell is that?' Azrael wondered as he was sure he did never heard of the boy.

Then it hit him. They were all dead people. If he hadn't rescued the girl, she would've become a sacrifice. If both of them weren't here, the boy would've dead.

'At least hope they are useful.'

She gasped, her heart pounding in her chest. "Illeron!" she screamed desperately, her voice trembling. "Wake up!" She shook him with all her strength, hoping for even the slightest response, but there was nothing. His tongue lolled out, and his eyes remained closed, as if he had slipped into an eternal slumber.

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision as she continued to shake him, as if willing him to come back to life. "He-" she stammered, her voice breaking with grief. "He's really gone." The weight of the moment overwhelmed her, and a lump formed in her heart as she realized that she had just witnessed someone's life slipping away, someone she had only just met.

Then the boy suddenly gasped, his eyes flying open as he let out a loud, exaggerated groan.

"Oh, by the devils! That was some dramatic act you put up, my dear lady!" Illeron exclaimed dramatically, clutching his chest as he pretended to catch his breath. "I must say, you truly believed I was gone, didn't you?"

The Elven girl jumped back, her eyes wide with surprise, and then her expression shifted to annoyance. "You scared me half to death!" she scolded, smacking him lightly on the arm. "What kind of person fakes their own death like that?"

"Well, you know what they say, my lady. All great actors must have their moments of grandeur!" Illeron replied with a cheeky grin, winking at her.

The Elven girl stared at Illeron with annoyance, her eyes narrowing as he dramatically cried out in pain. Without hesitation, she reached out and pinched his wound, causing him to jump and yell even louder. "Ah, I'm dead! I'm dead!" he continued his performance, holding his hand over his wound.

Azrael, on the other hand, was feeling increasingly annoyed with the situation. First the girl, now this...whatever this is. He just wanted to get a good rest without worrying about anyone stabbing him in his sleep. 'I suppose I should wait until we arrive at the village.' He shook his head and stooped down to swoop up the firewood.

As he gathered the firewood into his arms, Azrael couldn't help but let out a sigh of exasperation. Illeron's dramatic antics were starting to wear thin on his patience. "You're not dead," he muttered, giving the young actor a pointed look. "And if you want to keep it that way, you better close your mouth and stop making a fuss."

Illeron, still grinning mischievously, rubbed the spot where the girl had pinched him. "Point taken," he said with a mock bow. "I promise, no more death scenes for now."

Azrael dropped the firewood into the flames, the crackling sound of the fire providing a comforting backdrop to their conversation. He settled on his side, feeling the weariness of the day weighing on him. Illeron, on the other hand, sat leaning against a tree trunk, his posture relaxed as he began to share more about himself.

"Actually," Illeron continued, his tone suddenly more serious, "I'm not just an actor, my friend. I'm a bard." He gestured towards the woods around them, as if emphasizing his connection to the natural world. "Every tree, every rustle of leaves, every shadow has a story to tell. And I am the one who brings those stories to life through music and song."

Azrael noticed something peculiar. Illeron, who had looked near death only moments ago, seemed to be regaining his vigor rapidly. The paleness that had washed over his face was slowly giving way to a healthier hue, and the sparkle in his eyes returned with newfound vitality.

"A bard, huh? The last thing I want to meet in this world," Azrael mockingly chuckled, his eyes narrowing slightly as he gauged the bard's reaction.

"Oh? You're a fun one!" Illeron retorted, a glint of defiance in his eyes. He wasn't one to back down from a challenge.

"Yeah, come here, and I will show you how fun I can become," Azrael replied, his voice low and laced with a hint of threat, a subtle warning for Illeron not to push his buttons.