Journey of Liffel: the Life Witch into Deep Darkness

Chapter 6 Ephemeral Shelter

The sun was slowly hiding behind the mountains when Lesky and Liffel reached the Frixt forest. The trees were tall and dense, covering the path with a quiet gloom. Lesky leaned Liffel against a rock and began to inspect the wound in his shoulder. The arrow had penetrated deep into the shoulder but the young man worked patiently to extract it.

Liffel gritted his teeth, his eyes glistening with pain.

-This will hurt a little, but I have to get it out now," Lesky said, his voice calm but firm.

She nodded silently, letting him continue. When the arrow finally came out, Liffel let out a sigh, feeling relief that quickly turned to burning as Lesky cleaned the wound with water from a jar. After applying a makeshift bandage with strips of his cloak, Lesky stood up and carried her in his arms again.

-Get some rest. We still have some way to go," he said without waiting for her response.

Liffel closed her eyes, surrendered to the tiredness and trust she was beginning to feel towards him.

When they reached the city of Markkus, the bustle of the market greeted them. Carts laden with fruit, looms hanging on the stalls, and the murmur of the inhabitants gave them a respite from the tension of the forest. Lesky left Liffel leaning against a stone wall as she shopped for a set of simple clothes at a store near the town's border.

She returned with a damaged gray hooded dress, a dark cloak and a pair of light boots.-Here, this will help you go unnoticed.

Liffel took the garments and looked around, looking for a place to change.

-I'm going to those bushes. Don't you dare look," she said, trying to sound authoritative, but a slight blush covered her cheeks.

Lesky let out a light chuckle and held up his hands in innocence.

-Don't worry, I'm not going to look. I'll be nearby in case anything happens.

Liffel wandered off into the foliage. As she changed, she felt something strange stirring in her chest. It wasn't love, but that mixture of gratitude and closeness unnerved her.

In the forest they left behind, a staggering figure emerged from the trees. Fliork, battered and covered in dust, cursed aloud as he lit another cigarette.

-Damn them... They left me like trash lying on the ground," he snarled, referring to the group of assassins.

The path he was taking led him directly towards a group of armed men advancing in formation. They wore light but sturdy armor, with witch hunter insignia. Leading the group was an imposing man with dark hair and a cold gaze: Zafius.

Fliork couldn't help but sneer when he recognized him.

-Well, well. If it isn't the famous witch hunter Zafius.

The leader of the group stopped, giving Fliork a withering look.