James didn't hesitate. He saw the panic in the man's eyes, the raw fear twisting his features, and he knew waiting wasn't an option.
"I'll help you find them," he said firmly, standing and adjusting his bow. "If they're still out there, we don't have time to waste."
The man stared at him for a moment, as if struggling to process the words. Then, relief flashed across his face—but it was quickly overtaken by urgency. He pushed himself upright despite the pain, his breathing uneven.
"They were with us when the attack started," he rasped, rubbing a hand over his face as he tried to steady himself. "I lost track of them in the chaos, but—if they got away, they wouldn't have gone far. They wouldn't leave the forest without an escort."
James nodded, already shifting his focus to the terrain. He had followed a trail of blood to find this man—if the girls had fled, there would be another path to follow.
"We'll start from here," he said. "Tell me everything you remember. Where were you ambushed? How many attackers?"
The man swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. "Five, maybe six. But they were fast—too well-coordinated to be just random bandits."
That changed things.
James kept his expression neutral, but his mind was already racing through possibilities. This wasn't just an accident or some simple highway robbery—someone had planned this.
And now, two missing girls were out there, caught in the middle of it.
James nodded, glancing toward the injured man as he steadied himself against the tree. The stranger still looked pale, but his breathing was more controlled now—he just needed time to gather his strength.
"I'll check the area," James said, his voice firm but calm. "Stay put, conserve your energy. I'll call out if I find anything."
The man gave a weak nod, exhaling sharply as he settled against the bark, exhaustion weighing heavy on him.
James rose and scanned the surroundings, moving with careful, measured steps. The forest was deceptively quiet—no immediate signs of movement, but he knew better than to trust the stillness.
He checked for tracks, disturbances in the foliage, anything that might hint at where the missing girls had gone—or worse, if their attackers were still lingering nearby.
Near the base of a thicket, he spotted faint impressions in the dirt—smaller footsteps mixed in with heavier ones.' They had run'.The direction led toward a denser part of the woods, where visibility would be more difficult.
James narrowed his eyes, kneeling to examine the tracks closer. Some were fresh, but others had been partially disturbed—perhaps from a struggle or something chasing them.
A chill settled in his gut.
This wasn't just a simple escape. Something had forced them to flee, and whatever it was, they hadn't had much time.
He stood, glancing back toward the injured man. He had a choice—return to report what he found, or follow the trail deeper to get a clearer idea of what happened before making a decision.
James made his decision. He glanced back at the injured man, whose breath was still labored, his grip weak. Even if he had once been skilled, in his current state, he would only slow down the search. There was no time to waste.
James tightened his grip on his bow and moved forward, following the faint tracks into the denser section of the forest.
The deeper he went, the thicker the undergrowth became—branches clawed at his arms, the scent of damp earth filling the air. The tracks became harder to follow, partially obscured by shifting foliage and uneven terrain, but he kept going, relying on keen observation and instinct.
Then, he noticed something ahead—a disturbance. Broken twigs, scattered leaves. Something had moved through here recently.
A soft rustling reached his ears, and he froze, bow already half-raised.
Someone—or something—was nearby.
James steadied his breath, lowering his stance as he pressed himself against a thick tree trunk. The rustling ahead was faint, barely distinguishable from the natural sounds of the forest, but he knew better than to ignore it.
He stayed still, sharpening his senses—listening, watching. The disturbed foliage suggested recent movement, but there was no immediate sign of aggression. No heavy footsteps or reckless movement. Whoever—or whatever—was out there was either hiding or too weak to move properly.
Slowly, James shifted forward, keeping his movements controlled, his bow still in hand but not fully raised. He scanned the area, looking for anything out of place.
Then, in a small hollow near the base of a thick tree, 'he saw them'.
Two figures, barely visible beneath the overgrowth, tucked low to the ground as if trying to disappear entirely.
The girls.
Their clothing was dirtied, their faces smudged with dust, but they were breathing. Alive.
One clutched the other protectively, her eyes wide with fear as she noticed James. For a moment, she looked ready to bolt, her body tense with panic.
James knew he had to approach carefully—too fast, too harsh, and they might run.
James kept his movements slow and deliberate, ensuring he didn't appear threatening. His grip on his bow loosened slightly, his posture relaxed but steady.
"You're safe now," he said calmly, his voice low and reassuring. "I'm not here to hurt you."
The older of the two girls still looked ready to bolt, her arm curled protectively around the younger one, but her panic didn't spike further. She eyed James warily, searching for any sign of deception.
"I found the man who was escorting you," James continued, keeping his voice even. "He's injured, but alive. He was worried about you both."
At that, the girl's expression shifted—conflict flickered in her eyes, the fear battling with uncertainty.
"He's alive?" she whispered, disbelief evident in her tone.
James nodded. "He's resting, but he was desperate to find you."
The tension in her shoulders eased, just a fraction. The younger girl, still silent, clung to her sleeve, her wide eyes darting between James and the surrounding forest.
"We need to get out of here," James added, keeping the urgency in his voice measured but firm. "It's not safe to stay in one place for too long."
The older girl hesitated, glancing toward the dense trees, as if expecting danger to emerge at any moment. Then, slowly, she nodded.
"What about them?" she murmured, her voice barely audible.
James frowned slightly. 'Them?'
James didn't press the issue—not yet. Whatever she meant by "them," there wasn't time to dig into it here in the middle of the forest.
"Let's move," he said, keeping his voice firm but steady. "We need to get back to your escort before anything else finds us."
The older girl nodded, gripping the younger one's hand as she rose, still cautious but now moving with purpose. James took point, scanning the surroundings as they quietly made their way back toward where he'd left the injured man.
The forest remained eerily still, but James didn't let his guard down. If there had been attackers before, there was a chance they were still lingering. His grip tightened around his bow, ready to react if needed.
When they finally reached the area, the injured man looked up, his eyes widening as he saw the girls. Relief flooded his face, his shoulders slumping slightly despite the pain still etched in his expression.
"You're alive…" he breathed, voice thick with emotion.
The older girl hesitated for only a second before stepping forward. "We thought—we thought you were dead."
James watched them, noting the tension between them. The relief was there, but so was something unspoken—something still hovering just beneath the surface.
James stepped back slightly, giving them space to reunite.
The injured man let out a breath he had clearly been holding, his shoulders sagging as relief washed over him. The older girl hesitated only for a moment before kneeling beside him, her expression conflicted—equal parts relief and guilt.
"We thought—we thought you were dead," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
The man chuckled weakly, shaking his head. "Almost was." His fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for them, but the exhaustion weighed him down too much. "You both made it… that's all that matters."
The younger girl clung to her sister's sleeve, silent but visibly shaken.
James let them have the moment, scanning the trees again to ensure no threats lurked nearby. The forest was still quiet, but he didn't trust the stillness—not with the mention of "them" still hanging in the air.
Once their emotions settled slightly, James turned back to them, keeping his tone firm but not forceful.
"You need to tell me what happened," he said. "You mentioned someone else before. Who were you talking about?"
The older girl tensed, her fingers gripping the dirt beneath her. Her lips parted, hesitation flickering in her gaze.
Then, softly, she whispered, "They weren't bandits."
James felt a chill settle in his gut.