Chapter 13: The Path Beyond the Pines
The wind rustled through the trees as Lina and the boy stood motionless atop the mossy ridge. Below, in a shallow clearing flanked by pine and thornbush, six people were surrounded by armed bandits. Screams rang out—panic, not pain, not yet. Two girls clung to each other. Four boys stood before them, brandishing crude weapons—a pitchfork, a broken branch, a rusted dagger, and trembling fists.
"Bandits," Lina muttered.
The boy narrowed his eyes. "Six against ten… they won't hold out long."
He started forward, but paused. "Hold back."
"What?" Lina blinked.
"We shouldn't reveal too much," he said. "These people might be connected to someone powerful. If we go all out, word might spread. Let's stay low-profile."
Lina gave him a flat look. "You do know we're about to dive into a life-or-death brawl, right?"
He gave a tiny smirk. "Just… don't go nuclear."
Lina sighed, raising her gloved hand. "Fine. Mild combustion only."
They vanished into the treeline.
It took less than sixty seconds.
The first bandit went flying—literally—when the boy appeared behind him and yanked his collar backward with such force that the man hit a tree, leaving a bark-crack dent behind him. Another lunged at Lina, only to eat a jet of compressed wind to the gut that folded him in two.
Lina twirled with effortless grace, her cloak fluttering like a ribbon. "Behind you."
The boy ducked, and Lina launched a pebble from her slingshot—it hit the final bandit square between the eyes. He fell like a sack of wheat.
Silence returned.
Ten bodies lay groaning or unconscious.
Lina crossed her arms and glared down. "What the hell? Why are they so weak?"
The boy stared at his hand. "That was… honestly surprising."
He turned toward the six strangers, who had huddled behind a rock during the fight. They stared at the two of them like they'd just witnessed dragons doing ballet.
One of the boys—a lanky one with tanned skin and frizzled brown hair—stood and pointed. "Y-You just… what the heck are you two?!"
The girl beside him, a brunette in a green cloak, gasped. "They saved us!"
All six began talking at once:
"That was incredible!"
"I thought we were dead!"
"Where did you learn to fight like that?!"
"Are you from the military?!"
The boy held up a hand. "We're just travelers."
The two girls approached first.
"I'm Cilia," said the brunette, brushing dirt from her skirt. "This is Aina."
The others introduced themselves too:
Bren – tall, freckled, nervous.
Kass – wiry, fast-talking.
Theo – calm, dark-haired, seemed older.
Luno – young, quiet, eyes full of admiration.
"We're headed back to our village," Cilia said. "You have to let us repay you! Please, come with us."
The boy hesitated. "We're not looking for reward."
Lina stepped in. "Yes we are."
He blinked.
She leaned closer and whispered, "We're broke, genius. Let's take the food, maybe coins. Maybe get info on the outside."
He sighed. "Fine."
Windmere appeared like a dream in the distance: nestled between tall hills, it was a patchwork of cozy stone homes, winding paths, and lazy farmland, all strung together by the glittering Serin River. The village had no walls, but it felt safe—wrapped in the arms of nature.
Children ran across bridges, merchants bartered under canvas tents, and flower petals floated in the breeze.
An older man with a braided gray beard stood at the gate, leaning on a cane carved with intricate spiral symbols. His eyes lit up when he saw Cilia.
"Father!" she cried.
She ran and hugged him.
The man smiled. "You're safe. Thank the stars."
Cilia turned and gestured. "They saved us."
The man stepped forward. "I am Halven, chief of Windmere. You have my deepest gratitude for saving my daughter." He bowed. "Please. Let us host you tonight. The village must honor its heroes."
As twilight fell, lanterns lit the village square—tiny golden orbs that swayed on ropes tied from rooftop to rooftop. Tables groaned under the weight of roasted boar, garlic bread, steamed carrots, pumpkin stew, and fruit glistening with sugar syrup.
Lina wore a borrowed blue dress that clung awkwardly to her knees. "Why is it so stiff? How do people sit in these things?"
The boy—now in a clean tunic and black vest—grinned. "You look... civilized."
"I feel like a sausage."
They sat together, eyes wide at the buffet. Lina devoured roasted potatoes like they were endangered. The boy sipped something sweet, then gagged.
"Is this… fermented mango?"
"You drink that, I'm not healing your stomach."
Villagers gathered around them, telling tales, asking questions. Children begged for stories of the battle. Lina tried to exaggerate with hand gestures, but she knocked over a pitcher instead.
That night, as the music played and stars blinked overhead, Cilia approached Lina with a cheerful wave.
"Tomorrow, I want to show you around Windmere. It's not much, but there are a few special places I think you'll like."
Lina blinked. "Uh. Okay."
The Next Day in Windmere
Cilia led Lina through the winding trails of Windmere, starting at the village square bustling with market stalls. They passed a cobbler humming a tune as he worked, a group of elders playing a board game with polished stones, and a flock of geese waddling stubbornly across the road.
First, Cilia brought her to the riverside. Children played on the smooth rocks as the water sparkled in the sunlight. "I used to come here with my mother," she said, smiling at the memory.
Next, they stopped at the orchard, where the trees bowed under the weight of ripening fruit. Lina was allowed to pick one—a peach the size of her fist. "This is sweet," she muttered, munching.
Then came the greenhouse, full of medicinal herbs and blooming flowers. "My father said life is strongest where it smells the sweetest," Cilia said.
They sat on a wooden bench under a vine-draped arch as the sun began to set. The sky turned to molten gold.
Lina glanced at her. "Why're you doing all this?"
Cilia blinked. "Because I like you. You saved my life. You seem like you need a friend."
Lina's face went stiff. Her eyes twitched. Her lips curled into an awkward, unnatural smile that looked like it was held together with duct tape.
Inside her head: WHAT IS THIS? Is this a side quest? Do I gain reputation points? Should I accept?
Out loud: "Yes. I accept… your friend offer."
Cilia chuckled, oblivious to the panic behind Lina's eyes.
Later That Night
Lina barged into their room at the inn, hands on hips.
"Hey."
The boy blinked, mid-bite of dried fruit.
"What's 'being friends' mean?"
He froze.
"I—uh…" He scratched his head. "I don't know."
Lina gaped. "You don't know?!"
"I don't even know my name, Lina! You expect me to explain social dynamics?!"
She blinked. "So... is it like an alliance? A blood pact? Do I give her a goat?"
The boy tilted his head. "Probably not the goat."
A long silence.
Lina sighed, flopping onto the bed. "Great. I agreed to something and I don't even know the rules."
He grinned. "Guess you'll have to make it up as you go."
She groaned. "This world is terrifying."