A Confession

After the spider's defeat, Amukelo and Eliss worked diligently to free the remaining children. Their little faces, stained with tears and dirt, lit up as they were untangled from the thick, suffocating webs. Eliss's healing touch seemed to comfort the children further, her soothing magic easing their physical and emotional wounds.

As they made their way back to Thandor, the children in tow, Eliss walked closely beside Amukelo. Under the moon's gentle light, she finally broke the silence between them. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, but carried a weight that demanded Amukelo's attention.

"Amukelo, can I tell you a bit about myself? " Amukelo nodded, so Elis's continued. "My parents are prominent figures in Thandor; my father sits on the city council, and my mother is a renowned artist. But because I failed at some task... some very important task." Amukelo could see sadness in her eyes.

"They decided to craft a future for me – one that revolves around strategic marriages and social galas, where every word, every action is a calculated move in a never-ending game of status."

Eliss sighed deeply, as though the act of sharing her story was both a relief and a burden. "They enrolled me in the finest schools, hired the most esteemed tutors for my education, even dictated how I should speak, walk, and dress. My life was a meticulously planned schedule, down to the minute. Every day I've been thinking about that moment, I wanted to get back to this life, but I wasn't brave enough."

She paused, her gaze drifting to the forest around them, where the sound of night creatures filled the air. "This forest... it was my solace," she whispered, a warmth in her voice that hadn't been there before. "I'd sneak out whenever I could, to see my fallen comrades, to try to use magic again, just to have a few stolen moments where I wasn't 'Lady Eliss of the esteemed Elandrial family', but just... Eliss, the one from before. The trees don't care about my past failures. The wind doesn't whisper critiques. Here, I was free, here I could try again."

Amukelo could see the raw sincerity in her eyes as she continued, "My parents taught me how to use magic. Healing spells, protective wards. Sealing runes... I wanted to become a great magician that the entire world would heard of, but this was the thing that they regretted the most, ."

Her eyes met Amukelo's, shimmering in the moonlight, yet resolute. "I saw you fighting," she continued, "and I couldn't just stand by. You were risking your life for these children, for me... I had to help. I didn't wanted to be saved... again. I need to be the one that saves others... Can I… Can I travel with you?"

Amukelo could see that Eliss was holding from crying. He hesitated, the weight of her request sitting heavy on his chest. He remembered the blood on his hands from the men he had killed and the danger that constantly hung over his path. He didn't want that for her.

"I appreciate what you did back there, truly," Amukelo finally replied, his tone gentle but firm. "But the path I walk is fraught with peril. It's life where I have risked my life many times, and I will have to do that many more times."

Her face fell, but in her eyes, a spark of determination ignited, challenging his decision without words.

. . .

Amukelo, Eliss, and the group of children finally emerged from the forest's edge, their appearance drawing gasps and hurried footsteps from the townspeople of Thandor who had gathered in anticipation. The town square was alive with a mix of relief and frantic energy as parents rushed forward to embrace their children.

Eliss's parents, distinguished by their elegant attire and composed demeanor despite the emotionally charged atmosphere, approached their daughter with a blend of sternness and relief. Her mother's eyes welled with tears as she enveloped Eliss in a tight embrace, while her father's face remained stoic, but his eyes betrayed his deep concern.

Eliss met her parents' embrace but looked over her mother's shoulder to lock eyes with Amukelo, communicating a world of gratitude and lingering hope with just that glance.

Amukelo approached them, and Eliss's father, extended a hand. "Sir, you have our deepest gratitude," he said, his voice steady but laden with emotion. "We are Lord and Lady Elandrial. You've returned our daughter to us and saved many of the town's children. How can we ever repay you?"

"I took this task to help the children, my Lord, not for a reward," Amukelo replied, a respectful but firm tone in his voice.

"Nonsense," Lord Elandrial insisted, "A deed of this magnitude demands recognition. We had promised a handsome sum for the safe return of these children, and we are people of our word."

With a discreet gesture, a servant approached, presenting Amukelo with a heavy pouch that jingled with the sound of coins - gold, by the weight of it.

In addition to the gold, Lady Elandrial, a refined woman with a striking resemblance to Eliss, gracefully handed Amukelo a finely crafted dagger. Its hilt was adorned with intricate designs and embedded with a brilliant sapphire. "This has been in our family for generations," she explained softly. "Please, take it as a token of our gratitude and a symbol of the lives you've saved today."

Amukelo was moved by the gesture. He could see the sincerity in Lady Elandrial's eyes and knew the dagger was far more than a mere tool – it was a piece of their family's history. With a respectful nod, he accepted their gifts. "Thank you, Lord and Lady Elandrial. I will honor this gift and use it to protect others, as I have protected your daughter."

As the reunion unfolded, Amukelo could feel Eliss's eyes still on him. He could sense her silent plea for him to reconsider her request, but he steeled himself. The road ahead was uncertain, and he was unwilling to place her in harm's way, despite the undeniable bond that had started to form between them.