《Shura Saga: Burn and Slay - Cultivation, Lightning Bolts, Monsters galore》Burn the Forest: Part 4

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The forest’s song never ended, not even in her dreams. There, it was louder, and strange as it may seem, it also put shapes into her dreams, shadows of wild, dancing creatures with the bodies of men astride bestial hooves, brows adorned by horns large and small. One of these dark, horned shadows turned to her and reached out for her, its eyes burning with maddened glee.

Aisa flinched from the beast-man’s touch, but the forest’s song held her still and forced itself out through her voice. She wanted to scream, but she couldn’t. Something that was more like a furred paw than a human hand caressed her cheek…

And suddenly, the shadows began rolling away, to be replaced by flickering firelight. She found herself seated, leaning against a tree. Her father was stroking her cheek, the lines of his face softened by days of listening to her sing the forest’s song.

“Aisa, you dozed off,” he said. “You must have been so tired.”

“I am.” She yawned, stretching her arms above her head, and looked around. “How long did I sleep? Not too long, I think. Everyone’s still singing and dancing.”

All around her, serfs were dancing around campfires, some arm-in-arm, others with skins of wine or spirits in their hands. Echoes of the forest’s song fell from their lips. Though sunset had evidently been a while ago, their merriment was only just beginning.

“A bit more than an hour,” her father replied, handing her a skin of water. “Here, have some of this. I wanted to let you sleep a bit more, but you’ve got a visitor.”

Aisa let her gaze follow her father’s pointing thumb, and it led her to Raksha. The martial scientist was seated on a tall root a few paces away.

“Hey there! Miss me already?” She beamed at him.

“Aisa, I need to speak with you,” he said.

Her father shrugged, got to his feet, and dusted off his apron. “Ah, to be young again. I’ll go take a stroll, maybe get a drink with Golsi and his boys.”

With that, he ambled off into the crowd, exchanging a nod with Raksha as he passed the martial scientist.

“Well, I accept,” she said.

“What?”

“Your proclamation of love and your marriage proposal, of course.” Aisa grinned. “Isn’t that why you’re here?”

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Raksha chuckled. “You’ve definitely been reading too many romances.”

“Aw, come on! You mean they’re not like real life?”

“Can you imagine just how silly things would be if they were?”

“A girl can dream, right?” Aisa scooted forward, closer to Raksha. “But yes, things would be very silly if they happened like they do in romances.”

“Maybe that’s why people enjoy such stories.” Raksha scratched the back of his head. “Because they’re about things that would be otherwise too strange for real life.”

“Yes, real life is so boring. Wake up, work, eat, and sleep. Same the next day. And the next. Sometimes, I wonder what’s the point.” Aisa reached out and grasped one of Raksha’s massive hands. “But I don’t think that it’s like that for you, isn’t it? You said you’re on your warrior’s pilgrimage. Sounds exciting.”

“I’ve just been wandering around, getting into fights.” He sighed. “If I’m entirely honest, I’m not sure what I’m doing.”

“What are you doing it for, then?”

Raksha slumped his shoulders. “I’m not sure if you want to hear it. Long story, hard to understand.”

“Try me. I like long and hard things.” She held his gaze for several moments, until neither of them could keep their faces straight any longer. Their laughter rang out into the night, folding blissfully into the general miasma of song and dance in the forest.

“Fine, fine,” Raksha said, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “I’ll try to explain it.”

“Hurray!”

“My Master’s Path brings him pain and madness. I have created a new Path which will heal his mind and body, but I need to perfect it first. Oh, I also need to find him, but I have no idea where he is.”

“What’s a Path?” she asked. “Something to do with that aegis thing you mentioned earlier?”

“Here.” Raksha lifted her hand and turned it toward him. Then he placed the tip of his index finger on her palm. Warmth pulsed from his touch. It traveled down the length of her arm and nestled itself against her heart.

“Wow! What was that?” Aisa felt her eyes widen. “Did you just cast a spell on me? One that makes me fall madly in love with—“

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“No, I’m not a sorcerer.” Raksha grinned. “I simply redirected a sliver of my internal energy into your central heart channel to warm you up, since it’s getting chilly. It’s something that we’re all born with. Martial scientists control, channel, and amplify their internal energy to form an aegis, an energy field around their bodies that heals their wounds and makes them faster, stronger, and tougher. A Path is simply how they do it. Mine’s called the Conflagration.”

“I like it.” Aisa smiled and pressed her free hand to her chest. “It feels nice and warm.”

“Well, I’m glad milady approves.” Raksha returned her smile, but this time, Aisa could see a tinge of sadness in the cast of his eyes and the tightness in his jaw.

“Not all Paths are like yours, I’m guessing,” she said softly. “Your Master’s Path hurts him, you say.”

“Yes.” He sighed. “I’ve been trying to find him for almost a year now. But even if I do, I don’t know if my Path is ready yet. I need to improve my mastery of the Conflagration, and the only way to do so is to put it to the test.”

“That’s why you’re picking fights with everyone?”

“No, I don’t pick fights,” he protested. “I just… don’t walk away from them.”

“Ooh, like a dashing Chevalier defending his honor and that of his beloved!” Aisa giggled and placed the back of her hand against her forehead theatrically. “How could I not swoon?”

“Well, that’s what fair Damoiselles are supposed to do, right?” Raksha grinned. “And you’re very fair.”

“Stop!” She giggled and swiped playfully at his shoulder. “Flattery doesn’t work on me.”

“So, what does?”

“Food,” she declared.

“Yeah, that works on me, too,” Raksha said, before joining her in laughter.

When their mirth faded, Raksha put his fist to his mouth and cleared his throat, as if he were about to say something he didn’t want to.

“Well, what is it? You want to say something. But if it’s a marriage proposal, I’m not saying “yes” without candy.”

“Aisa, I think you should go home. It’s not safe here,” he said. “There’s a dangerous mutant lurking around, and he tried to kill me just now.”

She scanned his face, but his features, open and cheerful mere moments ago, were now tight and serious. He wasn’t joking.

“A mutant? That’s no good.” Aisa scrambled to her feet. She’d heard stories of mutants before, of how they raided villages and did horrible things to the people they caught. “If there’s something so dangerous out there, then we’ve got to tell everyone.”

“That’ll just make them panic and flee in droves. In this darkness and with such numbers, people will get hurt. Some might even die.”

“But… what should we do, then?”

Raksha leaned forward. Though he was seated, his eyes were level with hers. Up close, the heat radiating from his massive form washed off her face and neck. It was a strange, yet pleasant feeling. Even stranger was how the forest’s song faded away into near silence when he was so close to her. Thoughts of the horned, shadowy men in her dreams crumbled like embers in the wind.

“Look, everyone’s here for your singing. If you’re not going to sing, then they won’t have a reason to stick around, right?” he said. “Just leave in the morning. Tell a few people before you go. Word will spread, and then, everyone else will start heading for home, too.”

“Didn’t you just say it wasn’t safe here? Now you’re telling me to stay until morning?”

“I’ll get you home safe.” Raksha patted the hilt of his sword. “Don’t worry.”

Before she could think herself out of it, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Her tongue danced against his for a heartbeat, and then she let go and stepped back.

Raksha was wide-eyed as she met his gaze. They stood silently for several uncomfortable moments.

Finally, he spoke. “Well, that was nice. Wouldn’t mind seconds. Or even thirds.”

“Now, what kind of fair Damoiselle would I be if I gave it all away so easily?” Aisa grinned. “As my Chevalier, you’ve got to work for it.”

“Fair enough.” Raksha chuckled. “Let’s go find your father.”

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