CHAPTER FOURTEEN: The Lakour Village
Blade smirked, his tone laced with mockery. “I thought you were proving your strength. Why are you panting now?”
Milani’s labored breathing was an unrelenting rhythm beside him, impossible to ignore despite his best efforts.
“Can’t you just help me… carry Lenora?” she gasped, her voice ragged, her balance precarious. The exhaustion in her eyes was evident, the dizziness tilting her world. Her throat, dry and raw, burned with each breath.
Blade halted, casting a scrutinizing gaze over her. She trembled like a wind-tossed leaf, her body betraying the sheer effort it took to remain upright.
Without another word, he closed the distance and took Lenora from her arms as if lifting nothing more than a cumbersome bag. He barely grunted under the weight before settling the girl over his shoulder. The heavy sigh of relief that escaped Milani made him roll his eyes.
“It’s only been an hour, and you were the one so eager to tag along,” he reminded her, but she was too busy gulping air to offer a retort.
“Can we rest here? Just for a while… until Lenora wakes up,” she croaked, her parched throat straining to form the words.
Blade exhaled sharply. “This is why I work alone,” he muttered, eyes sweeping their surroundings.
The forest loomed around them, damp earth cushioning their steps. Leaves, slick with lingering moisture, clung to their boots. Insects skittered across the undergrowth, brazen in their dominion. The nocturnal hum of unseen creatures filled the stillness.
“This isn’t exactly a five-star rest stop. We should keep moving,” he stated, but Milani shook her head weakly.
“I can’t… I’m thirsty. Just… give me a moment,” she pleaded, her knees buckling before she crumpled onto the damp ground with a graceless thud.
“You didn’t give me enough time to pack essentials,” she added, voice rasping.
Blade studied her-defeated, drained, barely holding herself together. With an exasperated sigh, he unceremoniously dropped Lenora onto her lap.
“Wait here,” he murmured before vanishing into the trees.
The forest pressed in, swallowing the sound of his retreating footsteps. With each passing second, the rustling of leaves and the ceaseless hum of insects became more pronounced. Milani barely noticed, her focus pinned on keeping the bugs from crawling over Lenora.
Once she was sure she was alone, she reached down, pulling a hidden knife from her boot. Turning to the thick tree she had rested against, she carved a pentagonal star into its bark with practiced precision. Just as her sister had taught her. A marker. A silent call for aid.
The moment she slid the knife back into her boot, Blade reappeared, silent as a specter. The abruptness of his return sent a jolt through her, though she masked her surprise behind a stoic expression.
He carried a broad leaf filled with water in one hand, and a handful of wild nuts in the other.
Without a word, he crouched and offered the leaf to her. She hesitated, then drank, lips brushing against his fingers as she sipped the cool liquid.
Once satisfied, he rose, shifting Lenora effortlessly over his shoulder. “There’s a river ahead. If you need more water, drink from there…it’ll keep you going,” he said, tossing the nuts into her lap.
Milani, miraculously recovered, got to her feet with ease. Blade pretended not to notice.
“How much farther?” she asked.
Blade glanced toward the horizon. “If we move without interruptions, we’ll be there before noon.”
“What’s the place called?”
He didn’t bother looking back. “We’ll know when we get there.”
Milani wasn’t sure if Blade had seen her carving, but she knew one thing-she had to be more careful. Every move mattered now.
Blade, however, was already a step ahead. He knew she was stalling, leaving breadcrumbs for someone. But patience was his virtue. He would wait. Let her believe she was unseen. Let her play her game.
Until the time came to reveal his own hand.
_____________________________________✍
By the time they reached the outskirts of a secluded village, they were disheveled wrecks. Leaves tangled in their hair, mud caked their boots, and their clothes bore the scars of their journey-ripped and torn by the unforgiving grasp of the forest.
Lenora, now awake, clung to Milani’s black linen pants, her small fingers tugging insistently.
Milani glanced down, offering the girl a warm smile. “What is it?” she whispered.
Lenora shifted on her feet. “I need to pee,” she confessed, softer this time, wary of Blade’s sharp ears.
But he heard. And he had had enough.
“No one is stopping until we settle for the day,” he snapped, his patience long since worn thin.
In this ‘short journey,’ they had stopped too many times-first for food, then for water, then for more food, then for yet another break. The interruptions grated on him. He wasn’t a babysitter, and he certainly wasn’t accustomed to considering the trivial ‘needs’ of others.
This wasn’t combat. This was worse.
Lenora paled at his harsh tone, shrinking back.
Milani shot him a glare before kneeling beside the girl. “Ignore him. Come on, let’s go.”
Taking Lenora’s hand, she led her toward the dense bush.
Blade turned away, exhaling through his nose as he surveyed the village ahead. His gaze swept over the settlement, memorizing its layout, marking exits and potential threats.
Because despite everything-their worn-out bodies, their fraying patience-he knew one thing for certain.
They weren’t alone.
The mountain loomed behind the village, its rugged silhouette a stark reminder of the one Blade had grown up seeing back home. The village itself was sparse-just a scattering of mud houses with roofs adorned in feathers, their meaning lost on him.
Children played barefoot in the dirt, clad in nothing but scraps of leather, their laughter ringing through the quiet air. Blade exhaled, already knowing they wouldn’t be staying here for long. If they lingered, Elder Hans would come, and with him, destruction. Innocent blood would be spilled.
Just one night. By dawn, we move.
He adjusted his stance, one leg propped against the trunk of a tree, his back following suit. But his moment of respite was brief. A tap on his shoulder broke through the silence.
“Thanks for being such a gentleman,” Milani teased, her smirk playful yet knowing.
Blade rolled his eyes and slung his backpack over his shoulder, striding toward the village without a word. Behind him, Milani led Lenora forward, the little girl’s small fingers curling around her own.
Blade reached the entrance of a small mud hut and knocked. No answer. He knocked again. Still nothing. With a sigh, he pushed the door open and stepped inside, leaving Milani and Lenora outside.
Lenora shifted uncomfortably as the village children stared at her with wide, curious eyes. Two of them smiled. She didn’t smile back. Something about them unsettled her-she couldn’t even tell which were boys and which were girls.
Sensing her unease, Milani gently pushed Lenora behind her, her loose pants acting as a makeshift barrier.
When Blade emerged, Milani wasted no time grabbing his arm. “Let’s leave.”
He blinked at her, brows lifting. “And why is that?”
“These children creep me out,” she muttered, eyes darting warily around them. “And they scare Lenora.”
Blade sighed, clearly unimpressed. “Then scare them back. That’s what faces are for.”
Without waiting for a reply, he turned northward. Though dissatisfied with his response, Milani had no choice but to follow, keeping Lenora close.
As they walked, Blade spoke, his voice even. “This is Lakour Village. A forgotten place, abandoned by the government. I passed by here on previous missions, but it’s so obscure it’s not even on the map.”
Milani stiffened. “So we’re staying here long?”
Blade stopped and turned, scrutinizing her. “Have you always been this much of a scaredy-cat?”
Color rose in her cheeks, but she had no retort.
He shifted his gaze to Lenora, who peeked cautiously from behind Milani. Bending slightly, he met her eyes. “What, did they bite you?”
Milani immediately stepped between them, pushing him back. “Don’t scare her.”
Blade barely reacted to the shove, regaining his stance with ease. He scoffed. “The problem is her, then. She can’t be afraid of everything.”
A sharp slap landed on his chest.
“You don’t say that to a child,” Milani scolded, her voice sharp.
Blade exhaled through his nose. “If you coddle her like this, she’ll never know when to stand on her own. And you won’t always be there to protect her.”
Milani glared, but said nothing. Instead, she turned to Lenora, whispering reassurances as they continued after Blade.
The temperature dropped as they neared the mountains. At the base, nestled against the rocky incline, stood a small house of red brick with a thatched straw roof. Blade didn’t hesitate-he strode inside.
Milani’s eyes widened. “Wait-why are we staying here?”
She rushed in after him, momentarily leaving Lenora to catch up on her own.
Blade was already inspecting the space: two dust-laden couches, a worn plastic table with mismatched chairs. The house was abandoned, but someone had once tried-unsuccessfully-to modernize it.
Blade muttered under his breath, “Whoever lived here must’ve failed interior design.”
Milani crossed her arms. “How long are we staying?”
Blade ran a hand over the dusty counter. “Long enough to rest.”
“We can’t stay in a house directly under a mountain. It’s dangerous.”
“You talk like you haven’t lived with danger your whole life.”
Milani tensed, then exhaled. “I have. But I don’t want Lenora to.”
Blade stilled.
“I want to protect her,” Milani continued, voice softer now. “She deserves better.”
“Enough.” His voice cut through the room, low and firm. “Stop being dramatic. It’s one night.”
The irritation in his tone was clear. Milani clenched her jaw but didn’t argue further. Instead, she turned on her heel and went back for Lenora. The little girl was already at the door, her eyes locked onto Blade.
Something about the intensity of her gaze made him pause.
Milani, ever the mood-breaker, smiled and tickled Lenora’s side. “Look who’s a big girl now.”
Lenora didn’t react. She just kept staring.
Blade scoffed, grabbing a rag off the floor and tossing it at her. “Clean the table. Make it spotless.”
The rag landed on Lenora’s head.
Milani’s frown deepened. She snatched the rag and hurled it back at Blade.
Caught off guard, he dodged-only for his foot to slip. In a clatter of limbs and dust, he crashed onto the floor, an old bucket tumbling onto his head.
A small giggle. Then another.
Blade pushed the bucket off his face, only to find Lenora laughing-actually laughing.
His chest tightened.
He barely had a moment to take it in before Milani smirked and kicked him back down. The bucket slipped from his grip and landed right back on his head.
Lenora’s laughter rang louder.
For the first time in a long while, something in Blade eased. He let out a slow breath, letting the sound of her joy settle in his chest.
“Glad to know my suffering is amusing,” he muttered.
Milani grinned. “Come on, Lenora. Let’s go find food. Leave him to clean the house.”
Blade groaned, removing the bucket a second time as the two disappeared through the door.
Left alone in the dim light, he stared after them for a moment, then exhaled.
At least Lenora had smiled.