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The minutes passed without either of them moving. At first, nothing could be heard clearly—only confused murmurs, hurried footsteps coming and going, and the occasional isolated shout warning about the spreading fire. The sound wasn't constant; it appeared and disappeared, making it harder to anticipate what was happening outside.
Hitaru's breathing became slow and controlled, as if he were forcing calm onto himself. His heart pounded violently in his chest, so strongly that it was hard to focus on anything else. His vision blurred at times, and it took his mind several seconds to remember where he was and why he couldn't move.
As time passed, clearer screams began to be heard. Some were cries for help; others were warnings that cut off before finishing. The confusion grew, and the sounds no longer felt distant.
"Watch out for that one there!" a female voice shouted from outside.
A sharp scream answered, followed by a dull thud. The sound stopped abruptly, as if someone had suddenly turned something off.
Hitaru closed his eyes, but the sounds didn't disappear. Even though he couldn't bear to listen to what was happening, part of him couldn't stop thinking that it had something to do with his arrival. He knew he had warned them of the danger. He knew no one had believed him. Even so, each new scream that went silent made something in his chest tighten further.
He didn't want to look. Staying hidden seemed like the right thing to do, but he also knew that if they needed to flee the village, he would have to see where to go. Remaining without information was just as dangerous as exposing himself. After a few seconds of hesitation, he slowly approached the window.
He peeked out just enough.
What he saw forced him to freeze. Fire advanced through the hay and wooden houses, consuming them without resistance. People ran in opposite directions, collided with one another, fell, and got back up. Among them moved goblins mounted on large, dark creatures, darting quickly through the narrow streets.
There were bodies on the ground. Some didn't move. Others still tried to, but without enough strength to stand. The scene had no order or pauses; everything happened at once, with no room to react.
Hitaru clenched his teeth. He felt his body tense beyond his control. He didn't look away immediately, though every second made it harder to keep watching.
He saw people being surrounded, heard muffled pleas and blows he couldn't fully distinguish. He didn't understand how there were so many attackers or how they moved so easily. The entire village seemed incapable of responding in an organized way.
Some guards were still breathing on the ground. Their movements were weak, erratic. Their gazes searched for something they couldn't reach. Blood mixed with the dirt, and the fire lit their faces unevenly.
Then one of them saw him.
The guard, gravely wounded, slowly raised an arm toward the house where Hitaru was. His expression wasn't one of pleading. It was hard, charged with something Hitaru couldn't immediately interpret. The arm trembled for a few seconds before dropping, cut off abruptly by a goblin weapon.
Hitaru stepped back from the window without realizing it. The air left his lungs for an instant. He leaned against the wall, breathing irregularly, while his mind replayed the image over and over.
Yet something else had lodged itself in his memory. Along the same path the guard had tried to point out, there was less movement. Less fire. Fewer enemies.
He tried to make sense of what he had seen. Where so many of them had come from. How they could be wiping out an entire village—people who, under normal conditions, would have been stronger than him.
Then he saw it.
His body went rigid.
He said nothing. Made no gesture. The image pierced him without the need for words. His eyes burned, and his vision blurred.
Tears began to fall without his being able to stop them. He pulled away from the window abruptly, as if touching it would burn him. He covered his face with his hands and clenched his teeth to keep from making a sound. He couldn't keep looking. He couldn't process any more.
Everything he had considered pain until that moment lost its meaning. Nothing he had lived through before resembled what he had just seen. For the first time since escaping, he thought that maybe it hadn't been the right decision.
He had wanted to live. He had wanted to be free. He had run because his body demanded it, because stopping meant dying. Now, hidden in a dark room, he felt that choice had carried a price he had never imagined.
Layla noticed that Hitaru had moved away from the window. Seeing him, she slowly sat up, worried. His face was soaked with tears. His reddened eyes avoided looking directly at her.
She tried to stand to look outside.
Before she could take a step, Hitaru's hand grabbed her tightly. Layla looked at him, confused. He slowly shook his head, without saying a word.
His eyes begged her not to look.
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