Chapter 13: THE UNSEEN TRUTHS
The morning sun rose higher, casting long shadows as Yomi, the old man, and the beast girl were roughly shoved out of the house. Milner, towering and imposing, loomed behind them, his voice a thunderous bark. "Move!" he growled, his hand resting on the hilt of his axe, daring anyone to defy him.
The trio stumbled forward, their chains clinking like a somber melody of despair. Yomi’s calm demeanor contrasted starkly with his companions’ evident dread. The old man shuffled, his trembling knees nearly giving way, while the beast girl’s wide eyes glistened with unshed tears. Her panda-like features, streaked with dirt and fear, made her appear far younger than her years.
Ahead of them stood a sturdy, weatherworn carriage. Its wheels were caked in dried mud, and its dark wooden panels bore the scars of countless journeys. The same carriage that had brought Yomi here from the slave market loomed before them, now a vessel of uncertainty.
Milner, impatient, grabbed the old man by the arm and hoisted him into the carriage like a sack of grain. "Get in!" he barked, his voice brooking no argument. The beast girl hesitated, clutching Yomi’s sleeve as if drawing strength from his presence. Milner glared at her, his patience thinning, but before he could act, Yomi stepped forward, guiding the girl into the carriage with a calm, deliberate movement. He followed, his chains dragging against the ground before settling on the carriage floor with a metallic clatter.
The Ravagers took their positions at the front. Thanir climbed onto the driver’s bench, taking the reins of the horse. He adjusted his leather gloves with a practiced flick and glanced back at Raiven, awaiting the signal.
Raiven, standing tall beside the carriage, his presence commanding, gave a slight nod. "Let’s move," he said, his voice steady and authoritative. Thanir cracked the whip, and the horse began to trot forward, the creaking wheels groaning under the carriage’s weight.
Inside the cramped and dimly lit space, the air was thick with tension. Yomi sat with his back straight, his eyes closed, his breathing measured and steady as if the chains on his wrists and ankles didn’t exist. His companions, however, were unraveling.
The old man crouched low, clutching his knees as his frail body shook uncontrollably. The rattling chains echoed his tremors, a physical manifestation of his fear. Beside him, the beast girl sat rigid, her small hands balled into fists, tears streaming silently down her cheeks. Yet, despite her fear, she found herself instinctively reaching for Yomi’s hand.
Yomi opened his eyes, their steel-like hue catching the faint rays of light streaming through the carriage’s cracks. He looked down at the beast girl, his expression unreadable but calm. For a moment, he regarded her with quiet curiosity. What was it that she saw in him, bound as he was, that compelled her to seek solace in his presence?