Paola’s mind was swimming in a haze of confusion as she followed Ayla down the stairs of the inn. Was she dreaming? Did that conversation really happen, or was her mind playing tricks on her? The whole thing felt surreal, like trying to piece together a puzzle in the dark. Ayla, her girlfriend, had... encouraged her to what? To explore something with Poca? If Poca tried something?
This was all too strange, too awkward. She barely even had clear memories of her past relationships. Devon… Devon now felt like someone from another lifetime. It was a different time, a different world—literally. She was dating Ayla now. But was she just scared, using Ayla as a shield in this world of dangers? No, it was more than that. Paola realized that she genuinely wanted to be around Ayla, wanted to learn from her, be close to her.
Ayla had naturally taken on the role of teacher, guiding Paola through the basics of survival in this strange world—who to trust, where to go, what to avoid. But that was all immediate, tactical knowledge. Poca, on the other hand, was different. She was open, friendly, knowledgeable about the world in a broader sense and willing to share it. Poca had no concept of boundaries, always so warm and inviting. Was Paola reading too much into it? Maybe this was just how Poca was, and she, Paola, was the one catching feelings, making something out of nothing.
Why was she doing this so easily? Why was she complicating things? Before she knew it, lost in her thoughts, she found herself standing at a table in the tavern, Ayla’s mismatched red and blue eyes watching her intently. Poca was already seated, her own mismatched eyes—purple and green—looking up at Paola with a bright smile.
And just like that, reality snapped back into place.
“Paola, would you like to ‘ave breakfast wiz us?” Poca’s voice was as cheerful as ever, cutting through the fog in Paola’s mind.
Paola hesitated, still trying to make sense of everything. But before she could answer, Ayla stepped in, her voice gentle. “She would like that,” Ayla said, her gaze never leaving Paola’s.
Paola nodded, a little numbly, and slid into the seat beside Ayla. She swallowed hard, feeling unusually quiet. The whirlwind of thoughts in her mind made it difficult to find words.
Poca, blissfully unaware of the turmoil within Paola, began chatting away as if everything was perfectly normal. “Oh, zis morning ‘as been lovely so far! I got up early, before everyone else, and came down to order breakfast for us. Zat’s when I met Ayla!” she said, her tone light and full of excitement.
Paola looked over at Ayla, who merely shrugged, a small smile playing at her lips.
“Ayla introduced ‘erself,” Poca continued, “and told me zat she was your girlfriend. She asked if she could ‘ave ze morning to catch up wiz you, and I said, ‘Of course!’ So, I went upstairs and woke poor Abraham—‘e was still snoring away—so zat you two could talk.”
Poca’s sweet smile made Paola’s heart ache with guilt. She hadn’t even noticed Poca’s efforts, so wrapped up in her own confusion. Ayla, on the other hand, nodded appreciatively at Poca.
“Thank you, Poca,” Ayla said, her tone sincere. “I really appreciate the accommodations.”
“Non, non, it was nothing,” Poca laughed, waving off the thanks. “I was already up and getting breakfast anyway!”
Just then, the barmaid arrived at their table, her apron stained with the morning’s work. “What can I get for you three?” she asked, her tone cheerful.
Paola, still feeling off-balance, let Ayla and Poca take the lead in ordering. Ayla’s voice took on that familiar, knowledgeable tone that Paola had grown used to—so much like a mentor.
“We’ll have something simple,” Ayla said, her eyes flicking between the barmaid and her companions. “What do you recommend?”
The barmaid smiled, clearly pleased to offer her suggestion. “Well, we’ve got the Emberfall special this morning—golden root hash with spice-roasted thorn apples, served with a side of wild honey cakes. The hash is made from roots that grow near the Tarnstead coast, and the apples are from the orchards just outside town.”
Ayla nodded approvingly. “That sounds perfect. We’ll have three of those, please.”
Paola’s curiosity got the better of her as she watched Ayla interact so easily with the barmaid. Ayla was always so composed, so confident in these situations. But something about her ease with ordering food, of all things, made Paola suddenly aware of how often Ayla took on this role—introducing her to new things, teaching her about the world.
As the barmaid left to fetch their food, Ayla turned her attention to Paola. “And what about Oso?” she asked, her tone light. “Is he still asleep?”
Paola couldn’t help but laugh softly, the tension in her shoulders easing just a bit. “Yeah, he’s still sleeping in the cart. He, uh, tends to sleep a lot, actually.”
Poca giggled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Ah, such a lazy little creature! But I suppose after all ze excitement, ‘e deserves some rest.”
Paola nodded, grateful for the lightness in the conversation. “Yeah, he’s earned it.”
When the food arrived, it was a feast for the senses. The golden root hash was a vibrant mix of orange and yellow, the roots cut into small, crispy cubes and seasoned with a blend of spices that filled the air with a warm, savory aroma. The thorn apples were roasted to perfection, their skins blistered and caramelized, giving off a sweet and tangy scent. The wild honey cakes were small, round, and golden-brown, with a drizzle of honey glistening on top.
Paola’s stomach growled in anticipation as the plates were set before them. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until now.
Ayla picked up her fork and began to dig in, her eyes bright with approval as she tasted the food. “The golden root is a staple in Tarnstead,” she explained between bites. “It’s hardy, grows well in the coastal soil, and has a natural sweetness that pairs well with spices.”
Poca nodded along, clearly enjoying the meal. “Zese thorn apples are delicious! I ‘ad zem once before when I visited Emberfall years ago, but I never knew zey were from ze local orchards.”
Ayla smiled, clearly enjoying the opportunity to share her knowledge. “The orchards are just outside town. They grow best in the rich soil near the river. Thorn apples are a bit of a delicacy in some parts of Aurelia.”
Abraham, who had been sitting quietly during the conversation, had a mouthful of honey cake, but he was nodding along.
Paola watched the two of them converse, slowly getting to know each other over the breakfast. Poca, always open and friendly, was a natural conversationalist, while Ayla, with her more reserved demeanor, seemed to be enjoying the chance to engage with someone who shared her interest in the world’s wonders.
As Paola listened, something clicked in her mind. She realized how often Ayla had taken on this role—teaching her about foods, plants, survival skills. It was always Ayla who introduced her to new things, who explained the origins of whatever they were eating, who seemed to delight in sharing her knowledge.
Paola couldn’t help but smile, a teasing thought crossing her mind. “You know, Ayla,” she said, her tone light and playful, “you talk about food a lot. Are you sure you don’t secretly want to be a chef or something?”
Ayla paused, mid-bite, and for the first time that Paola could remember, she saw a faint blush creep up Ayla’s cheeks. It was just a hint of pink, barely noticeable, but it was there.
Poca noticed it too, her eyes widening in surprise before a grin spread across her face. “Oh, mon dieu, Paola! You’ve found ‘er secret passion!”
Paola’s curiosity was piqued, and she couldn’t resist pushing a little further. “Wait, really? Ayla, do you want to be a chef?”
Ayla’s blush deepened, turning a soft shade of rosy red. She looked down at her plate, clearly flustered, and mumbled something under her breath that Paola couldn’t quite catch.
Poca leaned in, clearly enjoying this new revelation. “Non, non, Ayla, do not be shy! Tell us! Do you dream of running your own kitchen, whipping up ze finest dishes in all of Aurelia?”
Paola giggled, watching as Ayla’s embarrassment grew. Her usually composed girlfriend was visibly flustered, her cheeks now a deep shade of red. It was an endearing sight, and Paola found herself feeling even more drawn to her in this moment.
“Come on, Ayla,” Paola urged, her voice gentle but teasing. “Is that something you’ve thought about?”
Ayla finally looked up, her mismatched eyes meeting Paola’s with a mix of embarrassment and resignation. “Maybe… a little,” she admitted, her voice soft. “I mean, I’ve always liked food—cooking it, learning about it. But it’s not like I’ve had much time to pursue it, with everything else going on.”
Paola’s heart swelled with affection as she listened to Ayla’s quiet confession. The idea of Ayla—a fierce warrior, protector, and teacher—having a secret love for cooking was both surprising and endearing. She could picture it now: Ayla in a cozy kitchen, her hair tied back, sleeves rolled up, carefully preparing a meal with the same focus and precision she applied to everything else in life.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Paola asked, her voice softer now, more curious than teasing.
Ayla shrugged, her blush still lingering. “It just… never came up, I guess. It’s not exactly the most important thing, with everything going on.”
“But it’s important to you,” Paola said gently. “And that makes it important to me.”
Ayla’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the two of them simply looked at each other, the warmth of their connection settling between them like a comforting embrace.
Poca, sensing the tender moment between them, smiled brightly. “I zink zat’s wonderful, Ayla. Everyone needs a passion, no matter what else is happening. And who knows? Maybe one day you will ‘ave your own kitchen, and we can all come to eat your delicious food.”
Ayla chuckled, her blush fading slightly as she relaxed into the conversation again. “Maybe,” she said, her voice lighter now. “But for now, I think I’ll stick to teaching Paola how to survive in this world.”
Paola laughed softly, feeling the tension that had been building in her chest finally begin to ease. The awkwardness, the confusion, the uncertainty—it all seemed to melt away in the warmth of the moment. Ayla was here, by her side, and that was what mattered. Whatever strange feelings she had been grappling with when it came to Poca could wait. For now, she was content to simply be here, sharing a meal with the people she cared about.
As they finished their breakfast, the conversation shifted to lighter topics—stories of past travels, funny encounters they had had along the way. Paola found herself laughing more easily, feeling a sense of normalcy return. Ayla, despite her earlier blush, seemed more at ease now, even joking along with Poca as they swapped stories.
And as Paola sat there, surrounded by the warmth of their companionship, she couldn’t help but feel grateful. Grateful for Ayla, for Poca, for the strange and wonderful world they had found themselves in. There were still so many questions, so many uncertainties, but for now, she was content to simply be here, in this moment, with them.
As breakfast wound down, the morning sun had risen higher into the sky, casting golden light through the windows of the tavern. The warmth and bustle of the room filled the air with the comforting sounds of clinking dishes and light chatter. Paola felt a growing sense of calm, the chaos of the past few days momentarily replaced by the simplicity of a shared meal with people she cared about.
Poca stretched her arms overhead, a yawn escaping her lips. “Well, I suppose I should go check on Carter and gather my zings,” she said cheerfully. “Ze poor thing is probably waiting outside, attracting all sorts of stares.”
"I thought he liked it," Paola teased, thinking of Carter and his much too large grin carved into his wooden face.
Poca giggled. "'E does, but I don't want to push it." She rose to her feet and turned to Abraham. "Come, mon cher, let's go. I'm sure you are tired of sitting around."
Abraham, who had finished his honey cakes and was licking the honey from his fingers, nodded and stood up.
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Ayla gave a nod of acknowledgment, and Poca turned to leave, her steps light as she made her way out of the tavern. As she exited, Abraham quickly slipped out of his chair, casting a quick glance at Paola before following Poca, his small figure disappearing through the tavern door.
Paola’s eyes lingered on the door for a moment, her thoughts still a swirl of confusion and unresolved feelings. The sun had risen higher in the sky, casting warm, golden light through the tavern windows, but the light didn’t reach the dark corners of her mind. She was lost in the tangle of her own thoughts until Ayla’s voice brought her back to the present.
“We still haven’t found Ta’huka,” Ayla said, her tone more serious now, cutting through the remnants of the morning’s lightheartedness.
Paola nodded, trying to refocus. “I know. We’ve been so caught up in everything else…”
Ayla stayed quiet for a moment, not whispering but speaking low enough that no one nearby could overhear. “Paola, there’s something I need to tell you. About what happened to me while we were apart.”
Paola leaned in slightly, sensing the gravity in Ayla’s tone. “What is it?”
Ayla took a deep breath before she began, her eyes scanning the room briefly as if to ensure no one was listening. “I ran into some River Lurkers. They were hunting me down, looking for justice for their master, someone they called Splinter. They were dangerous, and I had to be careful.”
Paola’s brow furrowed, recognizing the name. “Splinter…? That sounds familiar.”
Ayla nodded. “They had names, too. I can’t remember all of them, but there was one with red scales. He had an anger problem that nearly cost him and his brother their lives.”
“Did they hurt you?” Paola asked, concern creeping into her voice.
“No,” Ayla said, shaking her head. “I managed to get away before things escalated. But it was close. After that, I found Thrix.”
Paola’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Thrix. “Thrix? You found him? Is he okay?”
Ayla’s expression darkened slightly. “Barely. When I found him, he was half-dead. The only reason he’s still alive is because he had a miracle potion, and those are extremely rare.”
Paola tugged at the cloak she wore, a gift from Thrix after they had attacked Ovochos farm together. “I’ll never forget him,” she whispered, the memories of that time feeling both distant and vivid. “How… how is he now?”
“He’s recovering,” Ayla replied, though her tone was somber. “But he was in bad shape when I found him. We managed to make it out of the storm and came here together the day before you arrived.”
Paola felt a pang of sadness for Thrix, hoping he was on the mend. “I’m glad you found him, Ayla. I hope he’ll be okay.”
Ayla nodded, but her expression remained serious. “Me too. But there’s something else we need to talk about—our mission.”
Paola’s stomach tightened at the mention of their mission. She knew where this conversation was heading. “What about it?”
Ayla leaned in closer, her voice dropping even lower. “We don’t need Ta’huka to complete the mission, but it doesn’t feel right leaving him behind either.”
Paola nodded in agreement, but there was something else weighing on her mind. “Ayla… about what happened to me. I told you I died, but there’s more to it. I… I’m something called a T’shal’ara.”
Ayla’s eyes widened, her expression shifting from concern to shock. “A T’shal’ara?” she repeated, her voice almost a whisper. “Paola, you shouldn’t say that out loud. Not here, not in public.”
Paola quickly nodded, understanding the gravity of what she had just revealed. “I know, I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t know what it meant until recently.”
Ayla’s gaze softened, but there was still a hint of worry in her eyes. “We’ll talk more about that later, somewhere safe. But right now, we need to focus on our mission.”
Paola nodded again, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. She was glad to have Ayla by her side, but the weight of everything they were facing was pressing down on her. “What’s our next step?”
Ayla’s expression grew even more serious. “I met with the mayor last night.”
Paola’s heart skipped a beat. “And?”
“The mission… it’s done,” Ayla said, her voice steady but with an undercurrent of unease. “I got the Fallen Star from the mayor.”
Paola blinked, trying to process the information. “Wait… you got it? Just like that? Did you have to fight him? Did he just hand it over?”
Ayla’s face was unreadable, but there was a tension in her eyes that Paola couldn’t ignore. “He gave it to me,” Ayla said simply, her voice tinged with something Paola couldn’t quite place.
Paola frowned, trying to make sense of it. “That’s good, right? That means we can go back to Lady Marcelline.”
Ayla didn’t respond immediately, her eyes clouded with doubt. Paola could see the conflict written all over her face. “It should be good,” Ayla said finally. “But it doesn’t feel right.”
Paola’s stomach churned with unease. “What do you mean?”
Ayla shook her head, her frustration evident. “Lady Marcelline only sent us out here with two potions each, one greater and one lesser. It doesn’t make sense. Why would she do that if she wasn’t setting us up for something?”
Paola bit her lip, considering Ayla’s words. “But if that’s the case, why did the Fallen Star get handed to you so easily? Wouldn’t it have been harder?”
Ayla didn’t answer right away, her eyes distant as if she were lost in thought. Paola took a moment to check her mission status, her heart sinking as she realized the mission was no longer listed. It was true—the mission was completed.
“That’s what worries me,” Ayla said quietly, her voice laced with uncertainty. “It was too easy. Something about this doesn’t add up.”
Paola could see the tension in Ayla’s posture, the way she kept shaking her head as if trying to make sense of something that eluded her. “Ayla, what aren’t you telling me?”
Ayla met her gaze, her expression conflicted. “I don’t know, Paola. I just… I have this feeling that we’re being played. And I don’t like it.”
Paola’s heart ached at the sight of Ayla’s frustration. She reached out, placing a hand on Ayla’s arm in a gesture of comfort. “We’ll figure it out, Ayla. Whatever’s going on, we’ll face it together.”
Ayla’s eyes softened at Paola’s touch, and for a moment, the tension between them eased. But the uncertainty still lingered, hanging in the air like a storm cloud on the horizon.
“We need to decide what to do next,” Ayla said, her voice steady but with a trace of determination. “Do we go back to Lady Marcelline, or do we try to find Ta’huka?”
Paola considered the options, her mind racing. On one hand, returning to Lady Marcelline would mean completing their mission and getting answers. But on the other hand, leaving Ta’huka behind didn’t sit well with her.
“I don’t like the idea of leaving Ta’huka behind,” Paola said finally. “But we need to know what Lady Marcelline is planning. Maybe we can find Ta’huka on the way back?”
Ayla nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. “It’s possible. We could ask around, see if anyone’s seen him. But we need to be careful, especially if Lady Marcelline is involved in something… questionable.”
Paola nodded in agreement, her mind already turning over the possibilities. “Do you think she’s really set us up?”
Ayla sighed, rubbing a hand over her face in frustration. “I don’t know, Paola. But it wouldn’t be the first time someone in power has used others as pawns. I just hope we’re wrong.”
Paola swallowed hard, the weight of their situation settling over her like a heavy cloak. “What do we do if we find out she did set us up?”
Ayla’s eyes hardened, her resolve clear. “Then we fight back. We don’t let her control us.”
Paola felt a surge of determination at Ayla’s words. She had been through too much, survived too many dangers, to be manipulated now. Whatever lay ahead, she would face it head-on, with Ayla by her side.
For a moment, they sat in silence, the gravity of their situation sinking in. Paola could feel the uncertainty swirling around them, but beneath it all, there was a sense of unity—a shared resolve to see this through, no matter what.
Finally, Paola broke the silence, her voice soft but steady. “Whatever happens, Ayla… I’m with you. We’ll figure this out together.”
Ayla looked at her, a small, grateful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Thank you, Paola. I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else.”
Paola felt a rush of warmth at the sincerity in Ayla's words. They were in this together, and that knowledge gave her a renewed sense of confidence.
Ayla smiled, her gaze never leaving Paola's. "We should return to Lady Marcelline, then. Look out for Ta'huka along the way, if we can. We can always come back if we need to."
"Sounds like a plan," Paola replied, a note of determination in her voice. As Paola and Ayla sat in silence, the weight of their conversation settled heavily between them. The thought of leaving Ta’huka behind gnawed at Paola, but Ayla’s earlier words about returning to Lady Marcelline made sense. If Ta’huka was alive and hadn’t returned to Emberfall, he would surely check the status of the mission and know it was completed. They were all part of the same party, and he would have the same information they did.
“It only makes sense,” Ayla finally said, breaking the silence. “If Ta’huka is alive, he’ll know the mission is done. He’ll head back to Lady Marcelline just like we should.”
Paola nodded slowly, the logic sound, but the thought of leaving Ta’huka behind still felt wrong. “Yeah… I suppose you’re right. But it still doesn’t sit well with me.”
Ayla reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Paola’s arm. “I know. It doesn’t sit well with me either, but we have to trust that he’s capable of taking care of himself. He’s a strong warrior. He’ll make it back.”
Paola sighed, her thoughts still tangled with uncertainty. Before she could voice any more doubts, a sudden commotion outside the tavern drew their attention. People were running past the windows, their faces pale with fear. Inside, the patrons began to murmur anxiously, moving toward the windows and doors to see what was happening.
Paola and Ayla exchanged a glance, both sensing the shift in the air. The tension that had been simmering between them was quickly replaced by something more immediate, more dangerous. They stood together, moving toward the window to watch as more and more people ran by, their footsteps hurried and frantic.
“What’s going on?” Paola whispered, her heart beginning to race.
Ayla shook her head, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the scene outside. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t look good.”
Just then, the tavern door burst open, and Poca came rushing in, her eyes wide with fear and urgency. She scanned the room frantically until her gaze locked onto Paola and Ayla. Without hesitation, she sprinted toward them.
“Paola!” Poca’s voice was breathless, her expression one of pure panic. “You said you are a fighter, oui? And Ayla, you ‘ave zat massive sword…”
Paola felt her stomach drop as she registered the fear in Poca’s voice. “What’s happening, Poca?”
“There’s no time to explain!” Poca gasped, grabbing Paola’s arm and pulling her toward the door. “You must come with me—now!”
Ayla was already moving, grabbing her broadsword and slinging it over her shoulder as she followed Poca. Paola didn’t hesitate, letting herself be pulled along as a sense of dread settled over her. The three women rushed out into the streets of Emberfall, the morning sun casting long shadows over the town square.
As they neared the center of town, Paola’s breath caught in her throat. There, standing in the middle of the square, was Ta’huka. His chest heaved with labored breaths, his body drenched in blood. He clutched his tomahawk and shield with a white-knuckled grip, and his loincloth hung in tatters around his waist. His deerskin bracers and stirrups were torn, and his bear skull headdress glowed faintly in the sunlight. But it was his eyes that struck Paola the hardest—wild, feral, like a predator hunting its prey.
Around him lay the bodies of several adventurers, their blood pooling on the cobblestone. The sight was horrifying, a stark contrast to the peaceful morning that had seemed so promising just moments ago. The small crowd that had gathered around Ta’huka stared at him in fear and disbelief, too terrified to move.
Paola and Ayla froze in their tracks, their minds struggling to comprehend what they were seeing. This… this was not the same man they had traveled with. The Ta’huka they knew was strong, yes, but he was also controlled, disciplined. The man before them now was something else entirely—a predator, a force of nature barely restrained.
“Ta’huka…” Paola whispered, her voice trembling with shock.
His eyes scanned the crowd, searching, until they landed on Paola, Ayla, and Poca. His lip twitched, and for a moment, Paola could see a flicker of recognition in his gaze. But it was fleeting, quickly replaced by a cold, calculating stare that sent a chill down her spine.
Before she could speak, two figures emerged from behind one of the market stalls, their movements fluid and dangerous. Leonardo and Raphael, the River Lurkers, stepped into view, their weapons glistening with fresh blood. They moved to stand beside Ta’huka, their postures tense and ready for battle.
Paola’s heart pounded in her chest as she took in the scene before her. Leonardo’s blue scales shimmered in the sunlight, his twin katanas dripping with crimson. Raphael, with his red scales and angry scowl, held his sai at the ready, his muscles coiled like a spring ready to strike. The two River Lurkers flanked Ta’huka, their presence amplifying the threat that loomed over the square.
Ayla’s grip tightened on her broadsword, her eyes never leaving the trio before them. “Paola,” she said quietly, her voice low and steady. “Stay close to me.”
Paola nodded, her mind racing as she tried to process what was happening. How had it come to this? Ta’huka, once their ally, now stood side by side with the very creatures that had hunted Ayla. The tension in the air was palpable, the crowd around them silent, too afraid to move or speak.
Ta’huka’s chest continued to heave with each breath, his gaze fixed on the trio of women standing before him. He took a step forward, his tomahawk glinting in the sunlight as he raised it slightly. The movement was slow, deliberate, as if he were testing their reactions, searching for any sign of weakness.
Paola felt a surge of fear and confusion. This wasn’t the man she knew—this was a monster, a predator driven by something dark and primal. But beneath that fear, there was a spark of determination. Ta’huka might have changed, but she wasn’t about to back down. Not now. Not when they had come this far.
“What happened to you, Ta’huka?” Paola asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. “Why are you doing this?”
For a moment, Ta’huka’s eyes flickered with something—an emotion Paola couldn’t quite identify. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by that cold, predatory stare.
He didn’t answer her question. Instead, he raised his tomahawk higher, his posture shifting into one of readiness. The message was clear: he was ready to fight, and he wasn’t going to hold back.
Ayla stepped forward, her broadsword held in both hands, her eyes locked on Ta’huka. “Whatever’s happened to you, we can help you. You don’t have to do this.”
Leonardo and Raphael exchanged a glance, their expressions unreadable. Then Leonardo spoke, his voice low and dangerous. “He doesn’t need your help. He’s with us now.”
Paola’s heart sank at the words. The situation was spiraling out of control, and she wasn’t sure how they were going to get out of this. But she knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t going to let Ta’huka fall any further. Whatever had happened to him, she was determined to bring him back.
“Ta’huka,” Paola said, taking a cautious step forward. “We’re your friends. Remember that. We’ve been through so much together. Don’t let them do this to you.”
Ta’huka’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, it seemed like her words might have reached him. But then Raphael let out a low growl, his patience clearly wearing thin.
“Enough talk,” Raphael snarled, his red scales glinting in the sunlight. “If you’re going to fight, then fight!”
Paola felt Ayla tense beside her, readying herself for whatever came next. The crowd around them watched in breathless anticipation, the tension in the square so thick it was almost suffocating.
For a moment, everything seemed to hang in the balance. Paola’s heart raced as she waited for someone to make the first move, her mind racing with possible outcomes. She didn’t want to fight Ta’huka, but if it came down to it, she would do whatever it took to protect herself and the people she cared about.
Ta'huka stood there, his gaze still locked on the three women, and for a split second, Paola could see the hesitation in his eyes. She could sense the conflict within him, the battle between the darkness and whatever shred of light was left in him. And just as quickly as it appeared, the moment was gone, the light in his eyes fading away, replaced by the cold, calculating gaze of a hunter.
Ta'huka let out a loud battle cry, his tomahawk raised high above his head, and charged.