Chapter 20

The misty breath of an imposing, white creature hung in the air, its powerful hooves carelessly crushing Elena’s back and limbs.

“Ouch, that hurts!” Elena cried out in pain, her struggles futile as another set of teeth sank into her arm.

“Please, stop! Please!” she pleaded desperately.

“Struggling is in vain,” the creature retorted, “if you follow me quietly, your life will be spared.”

“No, let me go!” Elena’s voice quivered.

She couldn’t fathom why they wanted to take her along. If she resisted, it felt as though her end might come without any understanding of the reasons behind it. Yet, the prospect of going with them filled her with a dread even greater than the pain. She even found herself entertaining the notion that perhaps a swift end would be more bearable than what lay ahead. Silent tears streamed down her face, smudging her features and dissolving into the snow beneath her.

She lacked the strength for a scream, but still, she summoned her last reserves of energy, raising her arm in defiance against the oncoming foxes. With each merciless tear and tug, her body swayed like a leaf caught in a relentless gale, and it felt as though her very soul observed her defenseless form from above.

As the pain began to dull, her consciousness faded into a haze. The once suffocating pheromone scent now wafted through her nose almost imperceptibly on the breeze.

Suddenly, the creature, its sharp fangs deeply embedded onto Elena’s shoulders, was launched into the void, its piercing scream tearing through eardrums and assaulting the mind.

The growls of the beasts were soon accompanied by a rush of footsteps echoing through the snow-covered terrain. Their movements sent the snow scattering in all directions, as if it were a constant, cascading fall with every stride.

Amidst the chaotic sounds, the abrupt cessation of someone’s breath became all too clear. Elena strained to lift her heavy eyelids, fighting exhaustion every inch of the way, in an attempt to glimpse the unfolding scene behind her. Yet, her body was so battered and her strength so utterly drained that not even a finger could twitch.

Then came a sharp thud – a sound that could have been either a human’s scream or an animal’s roar, it was hard to tell. Subsequently, a warm liquid splashed across Elena’s face. More drops of crimson, which had already dyed her eyes a deep shade of red, fell upon her. Despite the acrid scent and the unsettling sensation, her eyelids fluttered in surprise, but that was the extent of her response.

The wind whirled, causing the forest trees to sway in a mesmerizing dance of motion. Elena, collapsed on the ground, found herself entranced by the harmonious melody of the wind.

The earth beneath her seemed to undulate and twirl, prompting her to shut her eyes. Amidst the tranquil symphony of the wind, Elena finally caught the sound she had eagerly anticipated.

“Elena!”

As her name was called and the approaching footsteps quickened, Elena summoned the strength to lift her heavy eyelids. The black-furred beast’s leg morphed into leather boots right before her eyes.

“Elena!”

Desperation laced the voice that called her, and the one who raised her upper body turned out to be Kennard.

“Your Hi…”

“Yes, it’s me. Are you coming to your senses?”

Kennard wrapped his arms around Elena’s shoulders and back, drawing her close. The chill of his hunting attire against her cheek contrasted sharply with the warmth of his embrace.

As the rapid drumming of his heart filled her ears, Elena’s racing thoughts began to steady, and the fear that had gripped her just moments ago slowly dissipated.

Drawing upon her last vestiges of strength, Elena looked up at Kennard. Whether her vision had blurred or Kennard’s once-vibrant pumpkin-colored irises had dimmed, they now appeared somber.

Kennard gently brushed aside the strands of hair that clung to Elena’s face and softly murmured, “I arrived too late. I’m sorry.”

At Kennard’s words, a wave of relief washed over Elena, even though she knew she teetered on the brink of death. It felt as if she hadn’t been forsaken. She held a simple wish: that, even if death was imminent, he would remain by her side, if only for a brief moment.

Her hand unconsciously reached out, and when Kennard held it, Elena relinquished the fragile thread of consciousness she had barely clung to.

***

Am I not dead yet? Elena questioned, her body swaying with a disorienting rhythm, causing her stomach to churn.

She existed in a peculiar state where neither her consciousness nor her body had fully awakened, as if she were submerged in water. It was as though her form was being gently maneuvered by an unseen force, and the cold wind rushed past her without directly touching her face or body.

She felt cocooned from head to toe in something soft and warm, as though the wind and ambient sounds were unfolding in a separate dimension. The passage of time became a blur.

She drifted in and out of consciousness, each awakening still marked by the sensation of being enveloped in a watery expanse. This time, however, she became aware of exclamations of surprise and the bustling sounds of activity around her.

Her cold, stiff body gradually yielded to the warmth of the surrounding air, and despite the pain that coursed through her like a relentless assault, Elena surrendered once more to the embrace of deep slumber.

***

“Elena, are you awake?”

The voice calling her roused Elena, who struggled to open her eyes with considerable effort. Her heavy eyelids gradually lifted, revealing a girl with jet-black hair parted in the middle and freckles gracing her nose and cheeks as she peered down at Elena.

“C… Cu…”

Her lips moved, and a hoarse, strained voice barely escaped.

“Yes, that’s right. Do you recognize me now?”

In the eyes that had previously held deep concern, a glint of relief finally emerged. Elena tried to turn her head to survey her surroundings, but her body refused to cooperate. Even the slightest movement sent waves of pain coursing through her, prompting Elena to grimace and emit a pained groan.

“It’s your bedroom,” someone interjected in their conversation, bending down towards Elena. The man had hair and a beard that had turned a pristine white, extending down to his chest – none other than Leto, Kennard’s personal physician.

“Doctor.”

Upon recognizing him, Leto, much like Cura, breathed a sigh of relief and expressed his own sense of relief. “Thankfully, it seems you haven’t lost your memory this time. Do any memories from before this come to mind?”

Elena commenced recalling the events that had unfolded, from her initial awakening in this place, marked by injuries, to the White Fox Tribe’s attack in the forest, all the way to the night when Kennard had come to her rescue. However, the memories preceding her memory loss still eluded her.

“No, I still can’t remember anything from before losing my memory.”

“I see. By the way, why do you keep ending up in such a battered state? Once again, His Highness brought you back covered in blood,” Leto mused, reclining in the chair beside the bedside as he shook his head. “Well, at least it’s fortunate that your injuries aren’t too severe, and you’ve managed to retain consciousness.”

Cura moistened a small cloth and delicately dabbed Elena’s parched lips. Her lips absorbed the moisture like a thirsty desert, instantly regaining their moisture, carrying with it the rich aroma of herbs.

“Lord Serin provided us with herbs from Erbejo,” she shared. “We applied them to your injuries.”

Instead of nodding, Elena blinked slowly.

“How long have I been like this?” she inquired.

“You were unconscious for three days,” Leto replied, stirring the tea. “Thanks to that, my vacation has come to an end.”

“Once Elena’s treatment is completed, you can return home and rest,” Cura remarked before turning her attention back to Elena. “Teacher doesn’t reside in the castle; he has his own home in the village.”

“Cura, you should visit our village sometime, and you’ll understand why I feel this way. There’s a hot spring in the forest behind the village. When you soak in it, it’s like paradise.” Leto chuckled heartily as he touched his beard.

“You’re remarkably carefree for a Duke’s personal physician,” Cura muttered.

“I suppose there’s little for His Highness to fret about after the war’s end. Who else could be as robust and resilient as him?”

“In recent days, the White Fox Tribe has been encroaching upon the Terra Demorte forest. Elena was attacked by those rascals.”

“But His Highness remains unscathed. There’s no way he’d be harmed by such small fries.”

“Oh, please!” Cura narrowed her eyes at Leto, then burst into laughter, as though she found it hard to believe.

“Well, whatever happens, if His Highness summons me, I’ll be there in an instant, so don’t fret. Nevertheless, it’s best if I’m never needed.”

“That’s true.” This time, Cura nodded in agreement with Leto’s words. “Where is the Duke, His Highness, anyway?”

Elena, who had been quietly eavesdropping on their conversation, shifted her gaze to take in her surroundings. She harbored a fleeting hope, but no matter how she scanned the room, it appeared to be just the two of them, with no sign of Kennard.

His distinct pheromones were also notably absent. Why had Kennard left her alone in that forest that fateful day? Where had he vanished for such an extended period? How had the White Fox tribe become aware of her existence, and what had motivated their attempt to end her life? As her thoughts spiraled, her mind grew increasingly convoluted, offering no answers.

“Cura,” she called.

“Yes, Elena. What can I do for you?” Cura inquired.

“No, it’s not that… What about the Duke?”

Cura, who had been engaged in casual conversation until now, fell silent and turned her attention to Leto.