Chapter 136: The Flame That Shouldn’t Burn
Suddenly, both of their ears twitched in unison. Dila’s ears flicked sharply as she leaned slightly toward Fran, her blue eyes narrowing. "Fran... did you feel that?" she whispered, her voice tense yet cautious.
Fran’s own cat ears flicked nervously, her small body tensing. "Yes... sister," she whispered back, barely moving her lips. She glanced around, her eyes wide.
Outside, the carriage driver tended to the horses, filling their water containers again. But suddenly He froze slightly, sensing the shift in the air, a subtle tension he couldn’t quite place. His grip tightened on the reins for a brief moment, unease crawling up his spine. The horses, however, remained calm, munching and drinking as if nothing had changed, their large eyes reflecting the moonlight through the trees.
Inside, Dila and Fran both turned their gaze toward the window, peering through the darkened window. Between the sparse trees, a flickering light caught their attention... a campfire burning softly, its glow dancing along the branches. The firelight was partially obscured, shivering and flickering in the shadows of the surrounding forest.
Fran leaned closer to Dila, her voice barely a whisper. "Sister... who is that?"
Dila’s lips pressed together, her blue eyes reflecting the orange glow of the distant flames. She shook her head slightly. "I... don’t know," she whispered back, voice low, laced with tension. Her hands gripped the edge of the seat as she continued to stare at the fire, her mind racing with possibilities.
Outside, the carriage driver gulped audibly, his unease growing. Though he couldn’t see the occupants of the campfire clearly, the sudden tension in the air told him this was no ordinary travelers’ rest. His heart thumped in his chest as he instinctively took a cautious step back, hands still clutching the leather reins.
The forest seemed to lean in around them, shadows stretching unnaturally as the distant firelight cast flickering patterns across the underbrush. The night air smelled of damp earth and smoke, and a subtle, unsettling chill whispered through the trees, wrapping the carriage in quiet suspense.
Dila and Fran’s silent watch continued, the unspoken question hanging heavy between them: who or what was out there, just beyond the trees?
The glow of it kept dancing in Dila’s eyes, pulling her thoughts deeper, like a moth unable to resist the flame.
Finally, she pressed her lips together, her chest tightening, and then whispered, her voice low but firm, "Fran... I can’t contain myself any longer. I will investigate. I’ll try to look at that campfire... I need to know what’s going on there."
Fran’s head snapped toward her, ears twitching sharply. She leaned in, her whisper urgent and almost trembling. "No, sister... don’t. It might smell like trouble. We don’t know what’s waiting in those trees."
But Dila’s expression hardened, her silver-white hair catching the lamplight as she shook her head. "No... if I just sneak a peek, maybe I’ll see something harmless. Maybe they’re just travelers... maybe even friendly." Her voice wavered slightly, as if she were convincing herself more than Fran.
Fran’s blue eyes widened in shock. "Are you insane, sister?!" she hissed, her whisper breaking with a mix of fear and frustration. "You can’t fight if it’s hostile. You’ve lost your magical power already, and my assassin skills might not be enough to protect you! What if the bandit attack repeats again?!" Her voice faltered at the memory, that midday attack still carved into her heart like a fresh wound.
The words struck Dila, and for a moment she went silent. Her gaze fell to her lap, fingers curling around the folds of her blood-stained uniform. Her heartbeat thudded unevenly in her chest as Fran’s desperate warning echoed in her mind.
She looked up again at Fran, her usually cold, unreadable face softened with visible hesitation. The firelight outside flickered across her eyes as if mocking her indecision. Fran sat close, her small shoulders stiff, her lips trembling, torn between fear and stubborn loyalty.
The tension between them grew heavy, their breaths mixing in the quiet carriage, the unseen campfire outside still burning like a lure in the night.
The silence between them stretched like a string about to snap. The faint creak of the carriage wood and the soft breathing of the horses outside only made the air heavier. Dila finally drew in a quiet breath, her voice low, soft enough that it almost vanished into the night.
"Fran... let me be. Don’t worry... we might be okay if I investigate it." She tried to smile, but it wasn’t the kind of smile that warmed—it was thin, fragile, weighed down with unease. It was a mask meant to soothe, yet it only revealed how uncertain she really was.
Fran’s hands balled into tight fists, her small frame trembling as her teeth pressed hard against each other. The light in her blue eyes dimmed, her playful glow vanishing, replaced by a shadow of dread. Her face darkened with fear she refused to admit out loud.
In a sudden motion, Fran clung to Dila, her fingers clutching tightly at her sister’s sleeve as if letting go meant losing her forever. Her voice cracked, breaking through the quiet like glass shattering.
"Sister... I will come with you. If you go down... I will go down with you."
Her words weren’t loud, but they carried a raw, unshakable resolve. Her trembling body pressed against Dila’s side, her cat ears lowered, tail stiff, showing how terrified she truly was... yet still, she chose to bind her fate with Dila.
For a moment, Dila’s cold, unreadable mask faltered. Her chest tightened at the warmth of Fran’s desperate grip, and she looked down at her sister’s tear-brimmed eyes. The fire outside flickered again, reflected in Dila’s pale blue gaze... not just as a lure, but now as a mirror to the bond they carried into the unknown.
Dila finally let out a long, quiet sigh, her breath misting faintly in the cool night air. Her blue eyes lingered on Fran’s worried face before she slowly closed them, as if resigning to a choice she could no longer refuse.
"Alright... you’re coming with me," she whispered, her voice soft yet edged with reluctant resolve. Then she opened her eyes again, the faint glow of moonlight catching in their pale shimmer. "But be careful not to make a sound."
Fran leaned closer, her lips nearly brushing her sister’s ear as she whispered back with a faint pout. "No, sister... you should be careful, not me. I was trained as an assassin. I can move without a sound. Maybe not perfect... but better than you think." Her eyes gleamed faintly, a mix of pride and fear as her cat ears twitched in the silence.
Dila sighed again, the kind of sigh that came when words failed, when acceptance weighed heavier than argument. "Alright," she murmured.
Carefully, she reached for the carriage door. The old hinges groaned faintly, but she moved slow, steady, coaxing the sound down until it was no louder than a whisper in the wind. A slice of night poured in, cold and still, carrying the scent of earth, trees, and faint smoke from the distant fire.
Step by step, Dila lowered herself down, her sandals pressing lightly against the dirt. Fran followed right behind, her movements quick, silent, graceful... her shadow trailing Dila like a second heartbeat. The night wrapped around them, a veil of cool darkness broken only by the faint orange glow of the fire beyond the trees.
Outside the open air driver’s seat, the carriage driver stiffened. His hands froze on his lap, his weathered face paling as he caught sight of the sisters slipping away. His throat worked as he swallowed hard, a whisper trembling past his lips, almost as if the words themselves were forbidden.
"What are you doing... Princess...?"
His eyes widened, fear sparking in them as he glanced toward the treeline, the glow flickering like an omen. The horses snorted quietly but remained still, their ears twitching lazily, unaware of the danger that felt tightening around them.
The night had shifted. What was once quiet and ordinary now felt alive, as if the darkness itself was watching.
The driver’s grip tightened around his lap until his knuckles turned pale, his whole body trembling as though a storm was brewing inside him. His breath came shallow, uneven, and a sheen of sweat coated his brow despite the cool night air. The faint glow of the campfire through the trees seemed to grow brighter in his eyes, like a beacon of doom.
His lips quivered before he dared to whisper, his voice hoarse and broken, meant only for himself, yet carrying the weight of desperate prayer. "No... Princess... don’t do it... please... or we’re in big trouble..."
His chest heaved as though every word cost him air. A bead of sweat slid down his temple, tracing his cheek until it fell to the dirt. His eyes widened so much they almost looked unnatural, the whites gleaming in the faint moonlight. Then He pressed his free hand against his mouth, stifling the trembling in his voice, but it still leaked through, cracked and shaky.
"I... I hate causing trouble," he rasped again, almost choking on the words. His shoulders quivered, his heart pounding so violently it felt as if it might burst. "My mission... was just to deliver you to Twilight Academy... nothing more... nothing less..."
Tears welled in his eyes, blurring the shapes of the sisters slipping away from him. His throat burned as he swallowed, his whole body feeling weak as though the very act of being here was crushing him. He clutched his chest with his trembling hand, the pressure so sharp it felt like a heart attack was moments away.
And still... his wide eyes, frantic and terrified, never left the treeline.
The driver wiped his sleeve quickly across his damp face, forcing his trembling legs to move. His whole body screamed to stay by the carriage, to cling to safety.... but his heart couldn’t let the Princess walk into danger alone.
He bit down on his lip until he tasted iron, then slowly began to tiptoe after them. Every step was agony. The dirt was loose in places, stones shifting under his boots, and the scattered leaves crunched if pressed the wrong way. He clenched his jaw, lifting his knees carefully, almost dragging his feet sideways to dodge the brittle patches. His breath rattled in his throat, and he had to keep swallowing it back so no sound escaped.
Ahead of him, the faint silhouettes of Dila and Fran slipped between the trees like shadows. Their movements were smooth, quiet, as though the forest itself welcomed them. Fran especially.... her small frame glided with assassin-born grace, weaving past roots and branches as if she’d done it a thousand times. Even Dila, though not trained for stealth, moved lighter than he ever could, her bare sandals making no noise at all.
The driver’s chest ached as frustration twisted inside him. He was too slow. Too clumsy. He tried to quicken his pace, tiptoeing faster, his boots brushing dirt, but every attempt only reminded him that he wasn’t made for this. His steps dragged slightly behind theirs, and the space between them grew with every heartbeat.
The forest around him was alive with sound. Crickets chirped in the darkness, the leaves whispered with the faintest wind, and somewhere deeper came the faint howl of a wolf. The driver’s pulse thundered in his ears louder than any of it, so loud he feared even the trees would hear.
Still, with sweat running down his temple, with his heart heavy and frantic, he pushed on. Even if he couldn’t match their pace, he forced himself to follow.... desperate not to lose sight of the Princess.
As Fran arrived first closer to the area then pressed her back against the rough bark of the tree, her chest rising and falling quickly but silently. Her sharp blue eyes narrowed as she peeked through the branches. The glow of the fire danced in the clearing just ahead.... but there was no one around. Only a small log lying half-buried in the soil, and in front of it, a fire carefully built from twigs and dried leaves.
She tilted her head, puzzled. The fire was steady, almost too steady. The flame crackled quietly, its light flickering off the trees, but the twigs hadn’t been consumed yet. It burned without weakening, as though someone with great precision had crafted it to last longer than it should. Fran leaned closer, her voice a hushed whisper, almost in awe.
"Incredible.... such skill," she breathed, her cat ears twitching as if catching every sound in the silence around them.
Moments later, Dila crept up beside her, her sandals brushing against the forest floor so softly it was like she wasn’t there at all. She crouched low, her silver-white hair catching a faint shimmer from the firelight as she pressed herself against the same tree. Her blue eyes fixed on the strange flame, unblinking, studying it.
"Who on earth...." she thought to herself, her lips parting slightly but no sound coming out. The idea churned in her mind. Who would set up camp here, so close to the road? And right a few meters where our carriage had broken down because of the horses’ exhaustion The timing felt too sharp, too deliberate the some people or entity that camp there, even though it’s inconvenience to set.
The night pressed in around them, dense and heavy. The forest canopy whispered with the faint stirring of wind, shadows swaying like figures just out of reach. The fire ahead seemed both inviting and dangerous, its glow painting long shapes across the ground as if hiding something more.
Dila’s chest tightened, her widened eyes reflecting the flame. She thought of Fran’s warning and the driver’s trembling voice, and yet.... curiosity bound her in place. Something about that fire wasn’t natural. Something was waiting.
And the silence in the forest only made it worse.