CHAPTER 53: CHAPTER 52: PARADISE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FOREST (27)

The light streaming from the masked man’s eye was hurling them from one period to another.

From moment to moment, without pause, not even a single breath between them.

The first scene showed the prince and Darin carrying that small gray creature toward a wide cave from which strange scents drifted out.

Dozens of Grayfolk gathered there, their bodies thin and their hair extremely long.

They stood like a barrier, preventing the prince and Darin from getting any closer until their leader stepped forward.

He was the tallest among them, his shoulders broad and his head covered in clay markings that resembled tattoos.

He exchanged a long, evaluating look with the prince before stepping aside when he saw the child.

After the prince handed over the little one, the prince and the survivors gradually blended into the life of the Grayfolk.

The leader allowed them to stay as a gesture of gratitude for saving the child, who had been believed to be lost in the forest.

The scenes changed rapidly.

Night gatherings around the fire, hands moving in a strange sign language the prince tried awkwardly to imitate.

Quiet laughter, hesitant closeness, then genuine familiarity.

One scene showed the prince standing beside the Grayfolk leader, and on his left the child he had saved, who over time became closer to him than anyone else.

It was a bond almost like that of brothers.

Then the years began to race by.

Scene after scene, image after image.

The little Grayfolk child grew, became a young man, then the new leader.

The changes were fast, unnaturally fast for humans, yet normal for the Grayfolk.

Another scene showed the wedding of the new leader.

The rituals resembled nothing the prince had ever known.

The bride and groom covered their bodies in clay, stood beneath the moonlight, and raised their hands toward the sky while the Grayfolk around them murmured low, whisper like sounds.

The prince stood in the back watching with quiet astonishment.

More scenes.

The groom became old, then a bent elderly man, holding a child in his arms.

Ten full years passed before the masked man’s and Orion’s eyes in mere seconds, but the effect remained etched in the masked man’s expression.

Even the prince looked older, more silent, more in tune with this new world.

But the peace did not last.

One day, the deputy chief appeared, his sharp eyes constantly fixed on the prince.

A Grayfolk who never hid his discomfort with humans living among them.

One day he approached the prince.

"According to tradition, the chief’s son must perform the hunting rite. You will accompany him."

This deputy was the first Grayfolk to learn the human language, claiming he took it upon himself to learn it since the leader pretended not to know it.

Something in his tone was unsettling, and even Darin sensed it.

He approached the prince the next morning.

"Orion, I do not advise going. Something is wrong."

The prince was sharpening his sword and arranging his arrows.

"You are overthinking. We lived with them for years. We watched a whole generation die and another be born before our eyes."

"Yes, but among those generations are some who do not like how close you are to the leader, especially his deputy."

The prince patted his shoulder.

"Simply petty annoyance. He will not dare to do anything as long as that child who is no longer a child is the chief now."

The light flashed again from the masked man’s eye, shifting the scene once more.

This time they saw the deputy shoving the chief’s son directly toward a forest beast.

The creature lunged to devour him, and the prince leapt, drawing his sword and dragging the child away.

The light erupted again.

The next scene showed the prince standing in a wide circle of Grayfolk.

Hundreds of them surrounded him.

Their voices rose in a language impossible to understand.

The leader was at the center trying to calm them, but his efforts were useless.

The prince tried to explain, waving his hands, raising his voice, but every argument fell flat.

The next scene was inside a cell.

A cave room with rough, jagged stone walls.

The prince sat on the ground, his wrists tightly bound.

The leader entered and stood before him, speaking in broken but understandable language.

"Prince, I am sorry. I know you did nothing, but there is no proof of innocence."

Shock crossed the prince’s face.

"No need to apologize. But I thought you followed absolute obedience to your leader."

"The leader follows the will of his people."

"You are right, but I assume you did not come only to apologize."

"I came to warn you. Do not go near the Black Tree."

The scene dissolved again.

The next scene showed the prince and his people leaving the Grayfolk lands entirely.

Mud slid off their clothes, and weary eyes turned back in silence.

More scenes. Pitching tents in a wide plain, organized guards, hunters moving with new caution.

Hunting small beasts, drying meat over low fires, slicing fruit to preserve it.

Life was harsh but less cruel than before, thanks to what they had learned living with the Grayfolk.

But even that fragile peace did not last long.

One long exhausting hunting day ended far better than anyone imagined.

Darin went out with a group of hunters and a few knights deep into the forest.

None of them expected to find prey of that size.

By midday the beast appeared.

Massive, standing on four muscular limbs, claws long and sharp.

Its body resembled a tiger but without stripes, and its long black fur draped heavily over it.

Its yellow eyes glowed with piercing intensity.

When it finally fell after a brutal fight, they carried it on wooden boards, dragging it with difficulty.

Its thick blood dripped across the path, leaving a dark trail behind.

When they reached the camp, everyone gathered around the creature, faces torn between hunger and disbelief.

They began cutting the meat, then lit the fire and roasted the large pieces.

The smell filled the camp, drawing people closer.

When it was time to eat, everyone sat around the flames.

The meat was tough and hard to chew, its taste far from pleasant, but to them it was a king’s feast.

The children’s faces were filled with joy as they finally ate until full for the first time in weeks.

That night most of them slept deeply.

But the next evening three creatures similar to the hunted beast appeared.

They slipped between the trees and attacked the camp.

Only three, yet the damage was devastating.

One knight fell immediately under a claw, another was driven back.

Darin shouted orders, the battle was pure chaos.

Short, but far more violent than their exhausted bodies could bear.

When the last creature fell, the survivors stood panting, sweat and blood covering their faces.

The prince realized this was no coincidence.

They had come following the slain beast.

"Gather the supplies. We are leaving now."