Ryn cursed for the first time with words he didn’t know the origin of, those that smoothly escaped his mouth.
Putting his arms in a cross guard was all he could do before the claws reached him, scratching through his clothes and skin, almost cleaving his arms off if he didn’t jump back.
“Ah!”
Ryn, off the branch and falling now, found himself in another predicament.
‘I will…die if I keep falling like this.’
He could sense that this would be his end if he fell like that, recalling how tall the tree was before he reached the branch he just fell from.
While remembering that, he also reminisced about how the tree had bark scales and crevices, which gave him a perfect grip while he was climbing it.
He didn’t have time to think or come up with a plan while falling backward; he just needed to act and save his life. But another issue arose.
“Shit.”
‘Again with that word!’
Ryn was surprised at the words coming out of his mouth but had no time to dwell on it, as he was mid-fall with the ground rapidly approaching.
He glanced down and saw one of the last remaining branches coming up, beyond which there was no other to catch him.
‘This is going to hurt.’
Ryn winced before spreading his flailing legs and catching the right one on the branch.
“UGH!”
The pain of the branch tearing his pants, then his skin and breaking off was unimaginable.
The branch snapped, and he kept falling, his body now plummeting headfirst.
‘Now!’
Ryn pulled a dagger from his waist, shoving it into the grooves, switching his position as his bleeding leg and the other slammed into the rough patches of the tree.
“UGH!”
His body scraped over the furrows, tearing clothes and skin alike. The dagger ran through the rugged lines without latching onto it, coming off.
Ryn took it out and, after a brief moment, stabbed with all his remaining force when the perfect hole appeared in front of him like a flash.
“HA! HA!”
Ryn gasped heavily, his body jolting to a sudden stop as it collided with the rough grooves.
Heavy breaths reverberated from him, his left hand a mess of blood and limp from his side, the crimson drops trickling down to his scraped and tattered shoes, where fresh wounds continued to bleed.
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The rest of his body bore scars of the ordeal as well. His face, chest, thighs, and even the arm that clung to the tree, all marked with scratches.
"I was ready to leave in peace, yet you've chosen this path, ha!?"
Ryn lifted his gaze upward, his eyes glinting with a fierce, dangerous light. Unbeknownst to him, his eyes shone with a similar intensity as when he faced the Enigma or made the solemn vow to never let the Shadow entity triumph over him.
What Ryn didn’t know was that he was already close to the ground if he checked. And there was a chance that he wouldn’t receive more damage than he already had.
But Ryn wasn’t ready to leave before he settled the score.
‘That one should do.’
Ryn searched for the perfect branch close to the bird that attacked him but was still out of its sight, so he could recuperate there and make it pay.
Then he initiated climbing back up, using the less injured leg and the hand that held the dagger.
He painfully scaled his way back up, beginning to meditate to recover.
“It can’t be helped then.”
‘At least I didn’t lose it.’
When he tried to eat to fully recover, he realized one cookie wasn’t going to be enough, but he was happy that he didn’t lose the pouch the old lady gave him.
Ryn fluttered his eyes open after completing his meditation.
“Good. Dinner tonight shall be you birdy.”
Ryn gave a quick look to where the nest was located and saw that the bird was still there. Now he could see what it really looked like.
“That should cover the next six meals.”
Maybe due to the hunger caused by the recovery, all Ryn could think about was food.
Ryn slowly and stealthily climbed his way towards the back of the bird, taking his position behind it and having his dagger ready.
Now standing behind it, Ryn could see the colossal bird of prey, towering a head taller than him.
Its back was a mesmerizing display of colors, with huge wings that possessed a dark hue of blue, fading into lighter shades of the rainbow. The dangerous talons were so fearsome that he felt their threat down to his bones.
“This won’t do.”
Ryn unsheathed his dagger and took out the double training swords from his back.
He couldn’t reach its back because of its tail and dreaded the thought of the bird flying away with him if he stabbed it or falling off the tree together. Therefore, he decided to use his wooden swords, aiming to cause as much pain as he could when the bird turned around.
‘What if it doesn’t turn around and just–’
BANG! BANG!
BANG!
SWOOSH
He didn’t even finish his words when the bird turned around while holding something in its beak.
Ryn didn’t hesitate and started hitting it, aiming for its head. The towering bird fell sideways from the branch, causing Ryn to miss the fourth hit and almost lose his step.
“That serves you right.”
Ryn looked down, observing the limp bird, eagerly anticipating it hitting the ground.
“HA! What!”
He couldn’t believe how the bird avoided top branches, regaining consciousness just before hitting the ground, spreading its wings and flying into the distance.
“NO! Come back!”
Ryn was upset that his potential meal was flying away while he watched helplessly.
He then glanced back, his eyes landing on the remaining eggs in the nest, a devious smile spreading on his face.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“We are here!”
Dastarn spoke up upon reaching the premises of what appeared to be an ancient temple, neglected and forgotten by time. Strangely enough, the outer structure bore the marks of age, weathered by the encroaching flora, yet the interior remained untouched, shrouded in a mysterious stillness.
“This is it!?” Travel questioned.
Standing at an impressive height of 6'4", Tarvel cut a figure as bold as they come, exuding an aura of sheer strength and power.
His muscular frame spoke volumes of the countless hours spent honing his physical prowess, evident in every confident stride he took.
Possessing a competitive spirit that burned fiercely within him, he approached challenges with an unwavering determination to come out on top, no matter the cost.
Beneath that imposing exterior, however, lurked a short temper, always on the brink of boiling over at the slightest provocation. His eyes held a fiery intensity when angered, a clear warning of the storm that raged within him.
An axe was his weapon of choice, a fitting tool that perfectly matched his raw strength and aggressive nature.
Tarvel's eyes lit up at the sight of the temple entrance, his excitement palpable as he prepared to charge in headfirst.
But before he could take a single step, Dastarn and Retta intercepted him, their combined force halting him in his tracks like an unstoppable wall.
"Dastarn, we've arrived. Let's not waste any more time," Tarvel urged, his impatience barely contained as he attempted to brush past them.
But Dastarn's stern gaze met his, a silent command that forced him to pause, the tension crackling between the two rivals.
Retta's imposing presence added another layer to the scene, her sturdy frame and no-nonsense demeanor amplifying the sense of foreboding that hung in the air.
"Patience, Tarvel. We proceed together, as a team,"
Dastarn's voice carried a weight of authority, quelling Tarvel's impulsiveness for the time being.
But as they stood before the entrance of the temple, the brewing storm of conflict between Tarvel and Dastarn threatened to boil over, their rivalry simmering just beneath the surface, waiting to explode at any moment. And with Retta's watchful gaze added to the mix, the tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a blade.