Lara hesitated for a moment before speaking. "There is one more thing, Grandpa. I asked a seamstress to make some clothes and a backpack for me. I will return there in three days to pick them up."
Reya’s face was shrouded with gloom, the subtle sparkle in her eyes fading like a candle extinguished by the wind. Her Miss had sought out a seamstress to craft garments for her. Did that mean the clothes she had so carefully made were not to Lara’s liking? Had she failed her?
Lara caught the fleeting sadness in Reya’s face and reached out, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"Hey, what are you thinking? Of course, the clothes that you made for me are still the best. It is just that the family I met in the village is struggling, and they are pitiful. I wanted to help them in a way that wouldn’t feel like charity. I paid them for their effort so they wouldn’t see it as mere pity." Lara explained.
A breath of relief escaped Reya’s lips. So it wasn’t about her sewing skills after all. But before she could voice her thoughts, Sandoz suddenly spoke up.
"Grandpa, can I come with Sister Lara when she goes to the village?" His voice carried a mixture of excitement and anticipation.
Jethru’s gaze turned serious. "But you’d have to cross Mount Ourea. You know how treacherous that mountain can be."
Sandoz’s shoulders slumped, disappointment clouding his youthful face. But before despair could take hold, Jethru smirked.
"If you want to come, then we’ll all go together. The three of us. But Lara will have to go alone if she wants a separate journey."
Sandoz’s face lit up instantly. "Grandpa, you’re the best! You always know how to play along."
Jethru chuckled, his weathered eyes twinkling with wisdom. "At my age, boy, I’ve learned a trick or two."
Lara cleared her throat, drawing their attention back to her. "By the way, Grandpa, I also met two beggars—twins. Their grandfather was sick, and I felt sorry for them. I stopped by their house and gave them food and medicine."
Jethru tilted his head slightly. "Their grandfather?"
"Yes," Lara continued. "He told me to send his regards and said you should visit him if you have time. His name is Samuel."
The moment the name left her lips, Jethru nearly lost his footing, gripping the edge of the wooden chair to steady himself. His weathered hands trembled slightly. "What did you say his name was?"
Lara blinked, startled by his reaction. "Samuel, Grandpa. Do you know him?"
A shadow passed over Jethru’s face, his expression unreadable. "He... he is my master."
Lara’s breath hitched. "Your master?"
Jethru nodded slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. "How is he?"
"He’s very sick," Lara admitted. "I gave him one of my emergency pills. He seemed to recognize it. He even asked me how I came by such a pill."
Jethru’s gaze grew distant, filled with memories long buried. "He was the one who taught me how to make pills from herbal concoctions."
Lara watched as Jethru stood, pacing the room, lost in thought. Finally, he turned to her, voice heavy with concern. "How bad is it?"
"I believe he has been unwell for quite some time. He’s also malnourished. There was barely any food in the house."
Jethru’s frown deepened.
"Don’t worry, Grandpa. I left them with food and bought them a sack of rice."
Jethru’s gaze flickered back to her. "Them?" He thought of what Lara mentioned earlier, the two children she met in town—the beggars.
Jethru’s brow furrowed deeply. "Children? My master never had any descendants. What was he doing in Calma? The last I heard, he was still the master of the Zen Warriors martial arts school before I fled the capital a few years ago."
That night, Jethru was restless. Nightmares plagued him, visions of the past clawing at his mind. Even the calming incense he burned could not lull him back to sleep.
At the break of dawn, he rose abruptly, waking the three younger ones. "Prepare yourselves. We leave for Calma immediately."
Reya and Sandoz could barely contain their excitement. It had been two years since they last left the plateau, and now they were finally going beyond the mountain’s edge.
While the three packed, Jethru tended to the wild chickens and hares, ensuring they had enough food for the next two days. He watered the plants, taking care of every small detail before their departure.
When they reached the hanging bridge, Jethru crouched near a hidden mechanism buried beneath dead leaves. With a few precise movements, he lowered the bridge on the Ourea side by two meters, rendering it impassable to outsiders unless they could jump.
As they stepped off the bridge, the sky had yet to brighten fully, but the east glowed faintly, offering just enough light to see their path.
Both Lara and Reya had disguised themselves in men’s clothing. While Lara and Sandoz’s facial features changed as they grew older, Reya’s did not. Even though her acne scars had faded, replaced by flawless, smooth skin—still dark—she looked essentially the same. Anyone familiar with her could still recognize her. If the human traffickers who abducted them were lurking in the village or town, there was a risk they might still identify her.
Jethru led them down an alternate route, bypassing the village entirely. "Grandpa, why aren’t we passing through the village? We could rent a bullcart there to reach town faster."
"This is the shortest route," Jethru said firmly. "We’ll get to town quicker this way."
Lara nodded, falling back into her role as a disciple. "Understood, Master."
Reya and Sandoz moved with practiced agility, their training under Lara making them strong. Running two kilometers uphill without losing breath was now second nature to them.
They pressed forward through the densest part of Mount Ourea, their footsteps nearly silent against the forest floor. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine, the whisper of wind rustling through the canopy above.
As they reached a clearing, Lara suddenly halted, muscles tensing, eyes narrowing as she scanned their surroundings.
A deep, guttural growl echoed from the shadows ahead.
Something was watching them.