Chapter 13: Hunting Accidents
Somewhere in the North America, Human Realm
In the year of 1400s
The day unfolded with a tranquil serenity, the sun casting its warm glow upon the wild horses that grazed leisurely in the lush meadow. Among them was a unicorn cleverly disguised as an ordinary horse, his shimmering coat glinting subtly in the light. His dark, intelligent eyes scanned the horizon, catching an unsettling sound that hinted at the approach of humans. Sensing the mounting tension, he quietly slipped away from the group, aware of the nearby human village that posed a threat to their peaceful existence. He let out a soft, warning whinny to the other horses, but they remained oblivious to the danger.
Seeking refuge, the unicorn trotted into the dense embrace of the forest and eventually arrived at a small, babbling river. He lowered his head to quench his thirst, savoring the cool water, when suddenly, a sharp noise pierced the air—he felt it before he saw it. In an instant, the realization hit him: he was being hunted. His instincts kicked in, and he bolted deeper into the trees, hoping the shadows would cloak him from his pursuer. But before he could fully escape, he felt a sharp pain in his hindquarters—a javelin had lodged itself near his back legs.
Unlike a typical horse that would succumb to such an injury, this hidden unicorn channeled his magical energy, effortlessly extracting the brutal weapon. In one fluid motion, he hurled it back toward the young hunter, sending the human scrambling in fear. With adrenaline fueling his flight, he ventured deeper into the forest, where few dared to tread. As he reached a secluded glade, he transformed into his true humanoid form and leaned against a sturdy tree trunk, feeling warm blood trickle from the javelin wound on his side—a stark reminder of the peril he had narrowly escaped.
A white wolf stealthily navigated the underbrush, his senses finely tuned for the chase. He had been tracking a small bunny when searing pain shot through his side—yet another javelin had struck true. Gritting his teeth, he used his formidable jaws to extract the weapon, grimacing at the effort involved. Breathing heavily, he turned to confront the band of young hunters who had made him their prey. Unlike the unicorn, this wolf harbored a profound resentment toward humanity.
As the hunters fled in fear, he staggered deeper into the woods, his strength waning as blood flowed from his wound. Each step felt like an uphill battle; he was relying solely on sheer willpower to reach a familiar refuge where he could rest. Just as he collapsed to the ground, darkness began to encroach upon him.
The unicorn, sensing his friend’s distress, blinked slowly and detached himself from the tree. He approached the fallen wolf, concern etched across his face. “Hanari, what transpired?” he inquired, lowering himself beside him. Despite having staunched his own bleeding with magic, he realized he lacked the strength to fully heal his companion.
With a soft sigh, Lance focused intently, tapping into his limited magical abilities to stem Hanari's bleeding. He could feel the chaotic surge of demonic energy within the wolf attempting to help, but the conflicting magics complicated the task. Gradually, he saw the wound begin to close, albeit with difficulty.
As the healing magic drained his energy, Lance felt his own injury beginning to intensify. He leaned back, panting. “Damn it…” he muttered, frustration seeping into his voice.
At that moment, Hanari stirred and shifted into his humanoid form, his blue eyes reflecting concern as he scrutinized his wound. “Thank you, Lance…” he murmured, his voice strained. “Looks like the humans had the upper hand with you too?”
“Yeah, just a young hunter…” Lance replied, attempting to keep his tone light.
Hanari grimaced. “I had an entire pack on my tail…”
An uneasy silence enveloped them as they absorbed their shared predicament, but soon Lance pushed himself up. “We need to get back to Elyasia. It’s safer there.”
Hanari considered the suggestion. “True, but how far can you travel before you collapse?”
Lance furrowed his brow in thought. “Not sure… but we should aim for the Northern Castle. Kai is the finest healer in our realm.”
The wolf chuckled lightly, mischief dancing in his eyes. “That's only because the Southern realm doesn’t have a healer!”
With their plan solidified, the two friends gathered their strength before embarking on the challenging journey to the hidden portal nestled deep within the forest. The trees closed in around them, wrapping them in a protective embrace against the unseen dangers that may lurk nearby. After four grueling hours, exhaustion etched on their faces, they finally reached the portal, its shimmering barrier pulsating with latent magic as they paused to catch their breath.
Lance felt weary, his body trembling as he fought through pain and fatigue. Next to him, Hanari struggled to stay upright, fresh blood oozing from his reopened wound. They took a moment to steady themselves before stepping into the ethereal portal.
As they emerged on the other side, Lance surveyed their new surroundings—vibrant greenery welcomed them, and the crisp air filled his lungs. “I think… we’ve landed in the northern lands…” he murmured, his vision beginning to blur.
Hanari fell beside him, darkness swirling in his vision. He weakly uttered, “Good…” before slipping into unconsciousness.
Seeing his friend faint, a wave of anxiety washed over Lance. He leaned back against the soft grass, exhaling slowly. “What do we do now…?” he questioned aloud, the heavy weight of uncertainty pressing down on them as they lay exposed in this unfamiliar realm.
Northern castle, South Gardens
Lyra was utterly captivated by the world of books, sharing this passion with her aunt, Lira. Their sturdy wooden table overflowed with an array of novels, each serving as a doorway to enchanting realms and narratives, as the two girls joyfully uncovered their literary gems. Nearby, Ryan was diligently perfecting his swordsmanship, the rhythmic clang of metal resounding as he practiced his strikes. Meanwhile, Max, in his magnificent dragon form, dozed peacefully, his vast blue scales glimmering in the gentle afternoon light, casting an ethereal glow around him.
In the midst of this serene tableau, an unexpected shimmering portal materialized a few feet away, its colorful swirls dancing in the air like a vibrant artist’s palette. The rest of the group, engrossed in their activities, remained unaware of this extraordinary event—until Rain ambled over, her curious gaze fixated on the portal. “Uhm, who opened a portal this time?” she inquired, her voice a blend of curiosity and caution.
Lira blinked in astonishment, her brow furrowing in contemplation as she shook her head. “Not me,” she replied, casting a puzzled glance from the portal to her niece.
However, Lyra was entranced. An exhilarating spark ignited within her as she hummed softly, the call of the unknown stirring her adventurous spirit. “I don’t know how this happened, but I can’t resist uncovering what’s emerged from the portal,” she proclaimed, determination radiating from her voice. Without pausing for a reply, she leaped off her chair, heart racing, and sprinted toward the shimmering vortex, her hair flowing behind her like a comet's tail.
The group gasped in unison, surprise washing over them. No one had anticipated the princess would make such a bold leap into the unknown.
Ryan, with a resigned sigh that conveyed both annoyance and protectiveness, realized he couldn’t allow her to face whatever mysteries awaited her beyond the portal alone. He quickly pursued her, concern racing through his mind; he certainly didn’t want to contend with the consequences if Lyra found herself in peril.
Lyra halted in her tracks, her eyes widening as she spotted two injured young men on the ground. With cautious steps, she approached them. One of the boys had long, unruly silver hair that cascaded around his face, contrasting starkly with his pale complexion. He wore a peculiar white kimono that appeared almost ethereal, its fabric tattered at the edges, telling silent tales of his struggle. The other boy had a more rugged appearance, featuring short, tousled dark brown hair and a similarly pale complexion. He was dressed in a white collared shirt that was stained with dirt and blood, overlaid by a sleek grey-black jacket, and he wore denim blue jeans along with black and white sneakers reminiscent of classic Converse. Droplets of crimson marred their clothing and pooled on the grass around them, a grim scene that tugged at Lyra's heart.
Behind her, Ryan approached swiftly, his concern unmistakable as he quickly assessed the awkward situation unfolding before them. “Princess, don’t get too close to them,” he cautioned with a tone that was both firm and protective, clearly wanting to shield her from any potential harm. “I’ll go fetch Kai right away; he’s the one who can help.”
Lyra, feeling a swirl of anxiety, nodded slowly, her voice barely above a whisper as she replied, “Okay…” With a heavy heart, she continued to watch the two boys, her mind racing with uncertainty about their well-being and what might come next.
Kai surveyed the injured boys with urgency, inhaling deeply as he devised a strategic plan. “Ryan, grab the wolf,” he instructed firmly. “I’ll take care of the unicorn. We need to get them to the castle quickly so I can tend to their injuries and help them heal.”
Ryan nodded resolutely, fully aware of the situation's seriousness. “Got it.” With gentle care, he lifted the dark-haired boy, Hanari, while Kai maneuvered to place the silver-haired boy, Lance, onto his shoulders. Together, and with Lyra closely following, they hurried back to the castle, their hearts pounding with the hope of saving the injured boys.
Upon entering the castle, Kai sprang into action, quickly assessing the severity of their injuries and meticulously treating each one. He observed that Hanari, the wolf, had more serious wounds than Lance, but both boys displayed evident signs of distress and pain, compelling Kai to work swiftly to alleviate their suffering.
Healing became a protracted journey. After an entire month, Lance finally awoke, a soft groan escaping his lips. Intrigued by his surroundings, he began exploring the castle—navigating its winding corridors, peeking into various rooms, and absorbing the striking differences of his new environment—before eventually returning to where Hanari lay resting.
Hanari had endured a more arduous recovery, taking a full three months to regain consciousness. When he finally stirred, it was due to Lance’s relentless prodding; the wolf growled in annoyance and swatted at him, but the silver-haired boy remained undeterred. Lyra watched the playful exchange with amusement, finding their banter utterly charming. She became captivated by Lance, especially as he enchanted her with mesmerizing tales of the human realm while she brushed his silky hair.
Time marched on—two years, to be precise—before Lyra resolved to make her choice. With unwavering determination, she claimed Lance as her paladin. Meanwhile, her seemingly aloof younger sister, Mira, couldn’t help but be charmed by Hanari. She declared him adorable and decided to take him along, much to the wolf's delight.