Odyssey Of Survival

The night air was cool, carrying with it the distant sounds of the forest—rustling leaves, the occasional snap of a twig, and the faint chirping of unseen creatures. The glow of the fire flickered across Nate's face as he sat on a worn piece of cloth, his back resting against a fallen tree. His muscles ached slightly from days of travel, but he barely noticed. His mind was elsewhere, lost in thought.

They had been walking for four days now. The endless stretch of golden sand was finally behind them, giving way to dense forests filled with towering trees and thick undergrowth. According to the king, they were close. Just one more day, and they would reach their destination.

On the journey, they had encountered beasts. But every time one attacked, the hunters handled it effortlessly. The king's guards, too, showed no hesitation in cutting them down, as if they had done this a thousand times before.

What interested Nate more, however, was what the king did afterward.

Every time a beast was slain, the king ordered his men to extract the beast crystals from the creature's body. The process was quick and precise, and each time, the king took possession of the crystals without explaining why.

The king himself, despite his stoic and imposing demeanor, had been keeping a close eye on him. At first, Nate thought nothing of it, but as the days passed, he began to notice. The way the king observed him from a distance, the way his eyes lingered when Nate did nothing while the others fought.

It was as if he was waiting for something.

Nate had drawn his own conclusions.

Unlike the others, he had not lifted a single finger to help. He hadn't fought once. He had simply walked at the back of the group, speaking only when necessary, keeping his distance from everyone except Tiaa.

It was clear that the king was a cautious man. He had been studying Nate, trying to figure out who he was. He wasn't foolish—he could tell Nate wasn't like the others. The way he carried himself, the lack of fear in his eyes, the way he spoke without hesitation. It wouldn't be surprising if the king had started to suspect he was the son of some powerful ruler, a nobleman from a distant land. It would explain his confidence, his indifference.

The fire crackled softly, pulling him from his thoughts. He let out a slow breath, watching the flames dance. The king and his guards had made their own separate fire, a little ways from where Nate and the hunters sat. It was clear that there was a distinction—rulers and warriors on one side, hunters and travelers on the other.

Soft footsteps broke the silence.

Nate didn't move, but he knew who it was before she even sat down beside him. The faint, familiar fragrance told him before anything else. Tiaa settled next to him, her expression unreadable as she chewed on something dry.

He glanced at her. "You look like you're thinking about something."

Tiaa's dark eyes gleamed in the firelight as she turned to him, leaning in slightly as if to whisper something secret. "I saw something strange earlier," she murmured.

Nate raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh?"

She nodded, lowering her voice further. "I was just passing by when I saw the guards handing food into a small, wrapped cage."

Nate frowned. "And?"

Tiaa exhaled, her fingers tightening slightly around the piece of food in her hand. "Someone took the food from inside the cage," she said. "It wasn't an animal. It was a person."

That got his attention.

Nate sat up slightly, his expression sharpening. "A prisoner?"

Tiaa nodded. "Yeah. And judging by the hand that took the food… it was a woman."

A brief silence settled between them, the fire crackling as they both processed her words.

Nate leaned back again, tilting his head slightly. "Interesting."

Tiaa's eyes flickered toward him. "That's all you're going to say?"

"What else is there to say?" Nate shrugged. "We don't know who she is, or why she's locked up."

Tiaa pursed her lips, clearly unsatisfied with his lack of concern. "Don't you think it's strange? A human prisoner? In a cage? Out here?"

"It is," Nate admitted. "But it's not our problem."

Her brows furrowed. "You really don't care?"

Nate exhaled, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again. "It's not about caring," he said. "It's about not sticking our noses where they don't belong."

Tiaa stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she turned back to the fire. The flickering flames cast shadows across her face, highlighting the conflict in her eyes.

Nate's gaze remained fixed on Tiaa, his expression unreadable as the firelight danced across his face. The night was quiet, the distant hoots of nocturnal creatures fading into the background. He studied her carefully before finally speaking, his voice calm yet direct.

"What do you want to do?"

Tiaa blinked, momentarily taken aback by the question. She sat upright, her brows knitting together as confusion flickered across her face.

"It's not about what I want to do," she said, her voice laced with concern. "It's about what they're going to do to her."

Nate sighed softly, leaning back against the rough bark of the fallen tree, his arms resting lazily across his knees. "You don't know what they're going to do," he replied. "So don't jump to conclusions. Don't interfere in something that isn't your problem."

She frowned, clearly unsatisfied with his response. The flickering fire reflected in her dark eyes as she searched his face, trying to understand why he seemed so indifferent.

But Nate had already made up his mind.

He knew exactly what time period they were in—this was the crucial moment when the portal to the Koryathans would be opened. It was the very reason he had allowed himself to be swept up in the king's affairs. If history unfolded as it was meant to, then soon, the first connection between this world and the Koryathans would be established. It was a pivotal event, one that would shape the future. He couldn't afford to disrupt anything, not even for a prisoner locked away in a cage.

If turning a blind eye was the price of ensuring that history remained on track, then so be it.

But Tiaa was persistent.

"We should be helping her," she said firmly, her voice carrying a trace of defiance.

Nate turned his head sharply, his gaze piercing as he stared at her. "And what if she's a murderer?" he asked. "What if she's a thief? You ever think that maybe the only reason she's locked up is because she deserves to be?"

Tiaa opened her mouth to argue, but no words came. Instead, she sighed, her shoulders relaxing as she slumped back against the same tree Nate was leaning on. The fire crackled before them, sending tiny embers spiraling into the cool night air.

She hated to admit it, but he had a point.

She had no idea who the woman in that cage was. No idea what she had done. It was entirely possible that she was dangerous, that she had committed some crime severe enough to warrant such treatment. And if that were the case, then interfering could bring unintended consequences.

Maybe… it really was best to leave it alone.

For a while, neither of them spoke. The silence between them was comfortable, filled only by the distant rustling of leaves and the occasional pop of burning wood.

Then, without warning, Tiaa shifted.

She let out a quiet sigh as she leaned over, resting her head against Nate's shoulder. Her soft curls brushed against his skin, and for a moment, she simply stayed there, unmoving.

Nate glanced down at her, his lips curling slightly. "You're tired," he murmured.

"Mmm," she hummed softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's been a long day."

Nate shook his head. "You're not just tired from today," he said. "You're tired from hunting, from traveling non-stop, from constantly moving."

A small chuckle escaped her lips. "I never told you that," she said, tilting her head up slightly.

"You didn't have to," he replied smoothly. "I can see it in your eyes."

Tiaa stared at him for a long moment before her gaze drifted back to the fire, her expression unreadable.

Nate watched her for a second before he spoke again, his voice quieter this time. "The last time we were together… back at your house… I saw it then too."

Tiaa's body tensed slightly, but she said nothing.

"I could tell," Nate continued. "In that moment, all you wanted was to settle down. To stop running around. To live a normal life."

She remained silent, her fingers absently tracing patterns on the fabric of her clothing. The fire crackled louder, as if filling the space where her words should have been.

Finally, she spoke, her voice softer now, almost bitter.

"A normal life…" she repeated, her lips pressing into a thin line. "That's just a dream. A dream that will never come true."

The night stretched on, the weight of her words settling between them.

But for the first time in a long while, Nate had nothing to say.

****

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