Darkness. A brief, cold moment, then nothing. Renji felt everything tear away from him and vanish.
But air suddenly rushed back into his chest like a heavy blow. His body jolted, his eyes opened, and before him he saw the forest again. He was behind Tiberku, while the little elf hovered in front of them, ready to speak.
— "I can show you a path toward…"
The elf stopped abruptly. He placed his small hand on his abdomen, and his gaze went blank. He stood still for a whole moment, as if something had pierced him. His wings fluttered, then went still, and his voice broke.
— "I… it feels like… I've been… struck…"
Tiberku frowned and staggered. He brought his hand to his chest, then to his shoulders, his breathing suddenly quickened.
— "Arrows… many… in my body… why do I feel this?"
Renji stood speechless. He stared at both of them, trembling, his palms cold. He knew too well what they were experiencing, though he didn't want to believe it. He touched his neck, where Kaizen's blade had cut him, and whispered in a torn voice:
— "This already happened… I died… and you felt it with me…"
The elf looked straight at him, eyes wet, as if he understood without being told.
— "Renji… what is this? What did you make us feel?"
Renji clenched his fists. He knew he had been thrown back, that he had been given another chance, but now the burden was no longer his alone.
— "I didn't do anything to you," he said quickly, his voice slightly shaking. "Maybe it's just a hallucination."
Tiberku stared at him, his wide eyes full of unease.
— "No, Renji. I saw it. An imperial, with a sword as big as his whole body, stood in front of me. His blade cut your throat, and your head fell to the ground. It's not a hallucination, it was real."
The elf nodded, his broken voice trembling.
— "I saw it too. I felt the arrow pierce through my wings. It wasn't just a sensation, it was as if I died."
Renji turned his gaze toward the ground. His fist tightened, and in his mind hissed thoughts he could not speak: "They felt the echoes of my death… and theirs. My power dragged them into this memory too."
He slowly raised his eyes, forcing himself to appear confident.
— "I don't remember anything of what you're saying. We're here, alive. That's what matters."
Tiberku stepped forward, his brows furrowed.
— "You're lying. It shows on your face. You knew from the beginning."
Renji clenched his fists, then sighed heavily. He felt their eyes on him, waiting for an answer he didn't want to give. At last, he gave in.
— "Fine, I'll tell you, but don't ask more than you need to," he said in a low voice. "When my city burned, I found a necklace in the forest. A strange necklace… and inside it was… a man. I don't know who he is, but I know he gave me a power."
The elf and Tiberku tensed, unblinking.
— "A power that… what does it do?" asked the elf, almost whispering.
Renji brushed his hand across his neck, where the wound still seemed alive in his memory.
— "It can throw me back in time. To a moment where I can change my fate."
He stopped, breathing heavily, then reached into the inner pocket of his coat. He felt once, then again. Empty. His blood froze.
— "The necklace… it's not here…"
His eyes grew clouded. He searched all his pockets, but nothing.
— "I've lost it…"
Tiberku pressed his lips tight and frowned deeply.
— "If the power comes from the necklace, then how did you come back? And why do we still remember what happened? Is it normal for us to keep the memories?"
Renji lowered his eyes. His breath trembled.
— "No… it shouldn't be like this," he murmured. "Only I should have known."
The elf stared at him with suspicion, wings quivering.
— "Then something's wrong. Either the necklace, the power… or the man inside it."
A cold shiver ran down Renji's spine. What if it wasn't the necklace that controlled the power, but the other way around? Or what if the man inside had stretched his influence to them as well?
Tiberku crossed his arms over his chest and fixed his eyes on Renji.
— "Tell me something, Renji. The last time this power activated… did the people around you forget everything?"
— "Yes… they forgot," Renji admitted at last, his voice low. "All of them. Only I knew what had happened."
The elf blinked quickly, almost shocked.
— "Then why haven't we forgotten? Why do we still know?"
Tiberku frowned, glancing at the elf, then back at Renji.
— "Maybe because you're a supernatural being, not like us. Maybe that's why you still remember everything."
He looked at Renji, his eyes serious.
— "And in my case… maybe it's connected to the demon's blood in my bow. I don't know exactly how, but it's not normal for us to have these memories."
The elf shuddered, his wings trembling faintly.
— "Demon's blood?" he murmured. "That could explain everything that happened."
Renji stayed silent, trying to process Tiberku's words. In his mind, things began to connect in a strange way. His power, the necklace, the elf who retained the memories, and the demon's blood in Tiberku's bow… everything seemed to form an invisible chain between them.
Tiberku watched Renji closely, his eyes full of unease.
— "Renji… what do we do now?" he asked in a heavy voice. "What's the next step?"
Renji drew in a harsh breath, feeling each inhale burn his ribs.
— "I didn't know the demon's blood in your bow could… intercept my power," he said weakly. "Now I know that Kaizen… he remembers killing me, but not everything that happened… something got in the way."
The elf flinched, his wings faintly trembling.
— "What do you mean?" he murmured, voice shaking.
Renji slowly turned his head, looking at the damp forest ahead.
— "When my power brought me back… Kaizen felt everything that happened, but he didn't see the full truth. He doesn't know what stopped him from finishing what he started. That gives us a chance… even if it's small."
Tiberku nodded slowly, glancing at his bow.
— "I understand… then we need to be cautious. Kaizen knows you survived, but he doesn't know everything. We must move slowly and carefully."
Renji let his arms fall at his sides, breathing heavily. He didn't have the strength for anything else.
— "Yes… we must take advantage of what remains unsaid," he murmured. "If we make a mistake, not only I, but both of you will be in danger."
The elf shuddered again, his wings trembling lightly.
— "Then we shouldn't waste time. Let's head to the springs and recover," he said. "But we need to be careful…"
— "No… we can't go to the springs," Renji said faintly, barely whispering. "If we go there… we'll be killed again."
The elf flapped his wings, confused and scared.
— "Why? What do you mean?"
Renji closed his eyes for a few seconds, feeling the pulse of power within him.
— "The power… brought me back only because I have a chance to change my fate," he murmured. "If we go to the springs, it's not my chance… it's a trap. I'll lose everything again."
Tiberku looked at him, not fully understanding, but feeling the weight of the moment.
— "So what do we do? Where do we go then?"
Renji opened his eyes and looked in the opposite direction, toward a denser, darker forest, where the rustle of leaves was quieter and the path seemed more dangerous.
— "We have to go that way," he said, his voice almost a whisper, yet firm. "There lies my chance… the only chance to change what happened."
The elf shivered and drew closer to Renji, trembling.
— "But what if it's dangerous?"
— "It doesn't matter," Renji answered with difficulty. "If I go to the springs… I'll die again. This power brought me back only for this moment, for this choice."
A cold chill ran down his spine. His body felt exhausted and wounded, but his mind was clear for the first time since he had been brought back.
— "Then let's go," said Tiberku, gripping his bow tighter.
Tiberku carried Renji on his back, each step heavy for him, and each movement painfully felt by Renji. Renji's breathing was labored, and his body burned with wounds. The forest around them seemed endless, the rustling of wet leaves blending with the rhythm of their steps.
The elf floated above them, wings trembling lightly, watching their every move.
— "You must be careful," said the elf, his thin voice firm. "The road is dangerous, and if something appears… you need to react quickly."
Renji could barely move his arms, leaning on Tiberku's shoulders.
— "Thank you…" he murmured weakly, trying to gather enough strength to breathe more easily.
Tiberku said nothing, only continued forward, his eyes alert to every movement in the forest. Each step was measured, each breath carefully controlled.
After walking for a while among trees and bushes, the elf felt something strange in the air, a tension that made him stop abruptly. His gaze grew serious, and his wings quivered slightly.
— "I think… I must leave here," he whispered, his thin voice firm. "My presence might draw danger onto you if I go any further."
Renji looked at him, surprised and uneasy.
— "What do you mean?" he asked.
— "I have to leave now," said the elf. "It's safer for you to continue without me."
In an instant, a white glow enveloped him, and the elf vanished among the trees, as if he had evaporated into the air, leaving Renji and Tiberku alone.
Tiberku stopped, stared at Renji for a few seconds, then looked toward where the elf had disappeared. His eyes reflected a mix of surprise, unease, and worry. After a few moments, he kept moving forward, his steps heavy on the wet leaves.
— "We're close to the border," he murmured. "We'll reach Eris soon, but first we must leave the kingdom. Who knows how long we have before they catch our trail."
Renji felt each breath like an immense effort and rested his head more firmly on Tiberku's shoulder.
— "How… how do we know we'll make it?" he asked weakly.
— "It's not about chances," said Tiberku without slowing down. "It's about not stopping. Every second lost is a step closer to them."
Renji squeezed his eyes shut, feeling that each step forced him to choose between pain and survival.
Tiberku glanced around, then spoke in a low but firm voice:
— "You must know how to reach the border. I'm not from this kingdom, and I don't know the path for sure."
Renji nodded, recalling the mental maps and memories he had of the lands they had crossed.
— "Southwest," he said slowly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "We have to follow the river to the old stone markers. There's the only safe crossing."
Tiberku looked at him intently, eyes fixed on Renji, reading every twitch of his muscles, every spasm in his arms and shoulders.
— "Then we go without stopping," he said curtly. "Every moment lost could be fatal."
Renji nodded, knowing he had no other option. Pain consumed him completely, but the border was their only chance at survival. Every step Tiberku took through the wet leaves pulled him closer to safety, yet closer to the reality that there was no time left to hesitate.
The forest around them was silent, only the rustling leaves and their labored breathing disturbing the heavy air. Every shadow seemed to move, to cling to them, and each step echoed like a warning that the danger hadn't disappeared.
Renji clenched his jaw, trying to turn pain into determination. He knew they had to reach the border before their pursuers caught them, and that every wrong decision could be fatal.
Tiberku felt each step draw them nearer to the border, yet the tension did not ease. The air began to smell of smoke and damp earth, while Renji's gaze fixed on the horizon, trying to catch any sign of danger.
After hours that felt like days, the forest thinned, and before them opened a sight that stole their breath. The border was visible not just as a line on a map, but as a torn, devastated land, where traces of past battles mingled with the dense air and the smell of blood. Fallen trunks, trampled ground, and rusted weapons lay scattered as reminders of the conflicts that had scarred it.
Renji leaned more heavily on Tiberku's back, his eyes wide, unable to look away from what stretched before them.
— "It's… it's like a battlefield…" he murmured weakly. "Everything… everything here seems destroyed."
Tiberku didn't answer right away. He kept his gaze fixed ahead, analyzing every shadow, every seemingly harmless movement. Each rustling leaf could be a sign they weren't alone.
— "It's true," he said, his voice cold. "But we have to cross. We can't stay here. What mattered is gone, what comes next is all that counts."
Renji shut his eyes tightly, feeling his pulse hammer in his ears. His body was exhausted, his wounds burned, but he knew he couldn't turn back. The border was their only chance at survival, and all he could do was keep moving forward with Tiberku.
As they stepped deeper into the ravaged land, the shadows of trees mingled with the shadows of the past, and the air heavy with pain seemed to bear witness to all the battles once fought there. Yet Tiberku pressed on, his steps firm, every move calculated, like a promise not to let the land defeat them.
Renji felt a spark of energy course through him, an unexpected strength that wrapped around every muscle and cleared his mind. The pain didn't vanish, but it became bearable, and his heart beat with a new resolve. His power was rekindling, fueled by the elf's care and Tiberku's support, making him realize he still had a chance to fight for his life and for the goals he could not yet abandon. He felt that each step forward was no longer just a struggle for survival, but a commitment to those who had helped him and to himself.