CHAPTER 46: CHAPTER 46

Rhea watched as the girl curled up on the hard bedding. For a moment, she was still, as if sleep might finally claim her. But then, without warning, she rose and slipped into the night, her pale figure swallowed by shadows under the massive moon.

Where the hell is she going now? Rhea thought, dragging her feet to follow her.

The girl moved along the shore, her pace was quick, until she vanished into the forest. Rhea trailed after her, as her skin prickled at the sound of wolves howling somewhere in the distance.

Are you insane? You really think this is the best time for a midnight stroll?

The girl halted at the mouth of a cave. She crouched low, stuffing wild berries into her mouth with greedy hands.

Oh, brilliant. You had to risk your life into a death-trap forest just for a snack. You could’ve hidden some from that fatty instead of coming all the way here.

Then, faint whispers drifted from outside the cave. Rhea froze.

"I think it went this way," a male voice muttered.

"We can’t lose it—that’s money we’re talking about," another grumbled.

"We won’t. It was badly wounded."

Rhea’s eyes widened. What the hell are they hunting? She turned to the girl. "Stay put. Don’t you dare step outside—" But of course, the girl couldn’t hear her.

The girl suddenly stiffened, berries tumbling from her lap as she stood. In the next moment, she bolted towards the forest, her movements sharp.

"Wait! Where are you going?!" Rhea’s voice cracked with disbelief as she stumbled after her.

The girl’s steps were fast, moving through the forest as though it were the back of her palm.

Thunder roared above their heads as rain threatened to fall.

The girl continued sniffing, turned to the right, took a U-turn around a rock, and stopped.

A man sat against the rock, two arrows at each of his sides, a huge cut at his waist. His head was bleeding profusely, his breath becoming uneven, and he was grunting in pain.

The rain began to pour heavily, drawing the sound out of everything except its clattering sounds against leaves.

The girl crouched beside him. His eyes flew open—cold, feral, brimming with hate, baring his teeth at her like a wounded animal.

Rhea flinched. Don’t you dare touch him. He’ll tear your throat out, she said.

But the girl didn’t even blink. Her eyes trailed to the man’s eyes, holding his harsh stare, not moving, then suddenly placed her hands over his mouth and yanked the arrows off. Without hesitation, she ripped a strip from her skirt, pressed it against the bleeding, and tied it off. The man snarled in agony as she yanked the arrows free, muffling his cries with her hand.

His jaw clenched, eyes squeezed shut, but the girl never faltered. She slung his arm over her shoulder, wrapped her other hand tight around his waist, and dragged him through the rain. Blood mixed with water, streaking their bodies as the storm tried to wash them clean.

By the time they reached the cave, he was unconscious. She lowered him gently onto the stone floor, then disappeared into the forest again. When she returned, her arms were full of herbs. She crushed them, smeared the paste across his wounds, and bound them with strips of her torn clothes.

All the while, Rhea stood near the entrance, arms folded, watching. The shadows blurred the man’s face, but something about him tugged at her, an itch beneath her skin.

When the girl finished, she set a small pile of berries at his side before retreating into the corner to rest.

By morning, when she returned to him, he was already sitting upright as though waiting for her.

"Zeenare!" Rhea exclaimed, her eyes trailing over him. "Is this a vision of us?"

"To show my gratitude for your kindness, I do not need to; I shall grant you a wish before we part our ways." Zeenare began, "But, you must promise not to tell anyone about your encounter with me." his enigmatic voice reverberated in the cave, his eyes cold and filled with arrogance.

The girl gestured to him with her hands, indicating that she could not hear or speak.

"Hmph...... Mute," he murmured, as though tasting the word. Then, quieter, almost to himself: "So you cannot betray me. Fate is generous."

He remained seated on the edge of the rock, his blue eyes gazing at her silently for a long moment before he spoke again with a calm voice.

"You cannot speak or hear, is that right?"

She stared at him for a long time as he spoke, trying to catch what he was saying.

He noticed her struggle to understand what he was saying, and his eyes softened even further, his sharp, arrogant gaze now holding a hint of concern instead.

He leaned forward, closer, his presence like a tide drawing her in. "Can you read lips? Or must I give you every word in ink?"

In shock, she stepped away from him and moved to the other side of the cave. Then squat down looking for something.

He remained seated on the rock. His blue eyes followed her every movement silently, wondering what she was looking for.

She picked a scroll and some ink and wrote her name.

"My name is Eclaire. And I can read what you say."

He watched intently as she wrote her name on the scroll, and a small, surprised expression crossed his face when he read the name.

"Eclaire..." he mumbled, tasting the name on his tongue.

He then shifted his body so he was leaning back against the cave wall his eyes fixed on her

"A beautiful name," he commented with a small smirk.

Gosh, this man was a born-bred flirter. Rhea thought.

She remained standing watching to see if he would do anything.

He noticed how she remained standing, her gaze fixated on him as if she was waiting for him to do something.

He chuckled softly and gestured for her to come closer, patting the space on the rock next to him, implying that he wanted her to sit down.

So she wrote on the scroll. "I’m sorry but I can’t sit in the same space as a man."

He let out an amused scoff when he noticed what she wrote and a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

Her shoulders stiffened. She remained where she was, as if distance could shield her from him.

He smirked. "You stand so rigid, as though I might strike you. Sit. Here." He patted the stone beside him, a command disguised as an invitation.

She scribbled quickly, lifting the parchment:

Forgive me. I cannot share space with a man.

His laugh was low, rich, curling through the cave like smoke. "And why not? Afraid?"

Her head shook violently, too fast.

He chuckled again. "Then you resist me for virtue’s sake. How quaint."

She moved instead to a smooth rock near the entrance and perched there, clutching her knees. Her gaze never left him.

"You wound me, darling," he drawled, lounging back. "To save me from death, and yet recoil as if I were plague."

" Don’t fall for it, girl. He’ll eat you alive." Rhea hastily gave a pointed look directly at Zeenare.

Eclaire ignored the taunt and wrote instead:

"Why were you on the shore for the pirates to be able to catch you?"

He raised an eyebrow when she changed the topic and asked him a question instead, a hint of curiosity in his gaze as he read her question.

That made him pause. Slowly, his smirk returned. "What made you think I was being hunted by pirates, I could be a prince of your kingdom."

Her eyes narrowed. She wrote again, swiftly:

You are no prince. You reek of salt, you bear the sea on your skin. You don’t look like a human.

"Then what do I look like?" Zeenare asked.

"One of what? What are you guys talking about?" Rhea was lost, she knew Zeenare wasn’t human, but she didn’t know what he was.

Eclaire said nothing, her gaze on him not moving. "A Siren."

Wait! A siren? I thought those were just myths! Rhea pressed her tempest in disbelief.

That means, you are one of us," he stated, "Because you are different from the humans, you look more like I do."

" I’m flattered." Eclaire wrote.

He let out a sigh and leaned back further, his arms uncrossing as he spoke. "The humans hate us, but you don’t seem to bear the same thought," Zeenare questioned.

"Because you are the gods of the sea that feed us, with your powers you can cut off our food." She answered.

Finally, he exhaled a slow breath. "You have earned yourself and answered your question. I was gathering herbs, minerals, things for a spell. And they caught me off-guard... I underestimated the number of them. And before I could use my powers to escape, they had me chained."

She hesitated, then wrote the single word with a hint of curiosity in her eyes: Are you a witch?

That earned him a genuine laugh, sharp and scornful. "Not a witch, little mute. A sorcerer. The greatest in these waters. I do not beg favours from books and cauldrons. I command the ocean itself."

His eyes glinted, arrogance wrapping every syllable. "The tides rise at my will. The creatures of the deep bow at my feet. That is the difference."

"What’s the difference?" Eclaire asked.

He smirked again at her question. His arrogant demeanour shone through as he explained further.

"The difference, is that while witches primarily use potions and spells for their magic. I, as a sorcerer, draw my power directly from the depths of the ocean. I can manipulate water, control the tides. And summon sea creatures at my command."

" Then are you like the ruler?" She asked again.

He let out a soft scoff at her question and his expression held a hint of pride as he affirmed her statement.

"Precisely. In a sense, I could be considered a ruler. The ruler of the ocean and all its creatures, the most dominant and powerful being in these waters."

That arrogant bastard and why is my chest warm seeing this?" Rhea voiced her gaze settlingly on Zeenare.

Eclaire rested her head on her knees and crossed her arms over her legs with a soft smile on her lips.

He watched her as she rested her head on her knees and crossed her arms, taking notice of the small soft smile on her face.

What could this era be? The way they talk, this looks like a different civilisation. Rhea pondered.