Chapter 36: Ch 35
Chapter 35: Remnants of the Eclipse
The forest swayed gently under the golden hues of dawn, its serenity a stark contrast to the turmoil the group had left behind. The small shrine, their sanctuary for the night, felt more crowded than it was. The muted rustle of leaves blended with Aryan's soft humming as he meticulously cleaned his fan, his earlier injuries appearing as mere inconveniences against his usual cheery demeanor.
Tara, seated by the dying fire, absentmindedly twirled a stray lock of her pink hair. Her eyes shifted toward Samudra, who was slumped against the shrine wall, his breathing shallow but steady. He hadn't spoken much since waking, but his occasional glances in her direction felt heavier than words.
"Does he always recover this slowly?" Aryan asked, breaking the quiet. He didn't look up, his hands still polishing the steel ribs of his fan.
Azeus, perched on a ledge above them in his diminutive form, yawned. "He'll be fine. The idiot just doesn't know when to stop taking hits for others."
Tara frowned, her gaze flicking between Azeus and Samudra. "He shouldn't have to take them at all," she muttered.
Aryan's grin widened. "Oh, but then he wouldn't be our fearless leader, would he? Reckless heroics are practically his trademark."
Samudra stirred, his voice a quiet rasp. "If you're going to talk about me, at least make sure I'm unconscious first."
Aryan's laugh was light but genuine. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Your Highness."
---
As the group prepared to leave the shrine, Azeus stretched, his cat-like form elongating into something more serpentine. He hovered in the air, his glowing eyes narrowing as he surveyed the forest.
"The Sect's remnants won't stay quiet for long," he warned, his tone uncharacteristically grave.
Tara raised a brow. "You sound... serious."
Azeus shot her a sharp look. "Just because I'm not brooding like some people doesn't mean I lack perspective."
Aryan snorted. "Look at that, Tara. The dragon has wisdom after all."
Tara's lips twitched, but her expression remained thoughtful. "What do you suggest, Azeus?"
Azeus tilted his head, his silver fur catching the light. "We keep moving. The Sect's power isn't just in their warriors—it's in their reach. We're not safe here."
Samudra pushed himself upright, wincing as he did. "Then let's not waste time. If we stay too long, we risk drawing them here."
---
The group moved swiftly through the forest, their pace cautious but determined. The trees thickened as they went, casting long shadows that danced like specters in the morning light.
It wasn't long before the tranquility shattered.
A faint whizzing sound cut through the air, followed by a sharp thud. Aryan froze mid-step, his fan snapping open as a small dart embedded itself in the wood beside him.
"Ambush!" Azeus snarled, his form shifting into something larger and more menacing as he leapt forward.
The attackers—Sect remnants cloaked in dark robes—emerged from the underbrush, their weapons gleaming in the dim light.
Aryan twirled his fan, deflecting a volley of darts with practiced ease. "Really? Poison darts? How original."
One dart slipped through, grazing his arm. Aryan hissed but didn't falter, his movements fluid as he danced between the assailants.
Tara's hands glowed faintly as she summoned a gust of wind, forcing the attackers back. "Aryan, fall back!"
Aryan smirked, his posture relaxed despite the blood trickling down his arm. "And miss the fun? Not a chance."
Samudra stepped forward, his movements slower but no less precise. He raised his blade, its edge glinting as it caught the light. "Tara, cover Aryan. Azeus and I will handle the rest."
The battle was brief but intense. Tara's elemental magic combined with Aryan's agility to disarm the attackers, while Samudra and Azeus overwhelmed them with brute strength.
As the last of the remnants retreated, Aryan collapsed against a tree, his fan resting limply in his hand.
"You're hit," Tara said, kneeling beside him.
Aryan waved her off, though his face was pale. "It's nothing. Just a scratch."
Tara frowned, her hands glowing faintly as she examined the wound. "The poison hasn't spread far. You're lucky."
Aryan's grin was faint but teasing. "When am I not?"
---
By the time they reached the edge of the forest, the group was weary but intact. The town lay ahead, its streets buzzing with activity as the townspeople began rebuilding what the Sect had torn apart.
Samudra hesitated, his gaze lingering on the bustling town. "We've done what we can here," he said quietly. "But this fight is far from over."
Tara looked at him, her green eyes searching his face. "What's the next step?"
Samudra's lips curved into a faint smile. "We keep moving. The Sect's reach is vast, but so is their vulnerability. We'll find their weak points—and we'll bring them down."
Azeus, now back in his smaller form, perched on Tara's shoulder. "For once, I agree with the idiot. But let's not forget what we're up against."
Aryan, his usual cheer returning, slung an arm around Samudra's shoulders. "Don't worry, Azeus. With me around, what could possibly go wrong?"
Tara sighed, but her expression softened as she glanced at the group. For the first time since joining them, she felt a spark of hope—a fragile but undeniable sense that, together, they might just stand a chance.
As they stepped into the town, the sun breaking through the clouds above, Tara couldn't shake the feeling that their journey was only beginning. The Sect's shadow loomed large, but so did the light they carried.
And for now, that was enough.
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