As his mind gradually slipped into an uncontrollable slumber and his consciousness began to fade, Cyrus couldn't help but feel a tinge of regret creep into his heart.
He had done everything he could — but this time, he had truly pushed himself a bit too far; so far that his body actually failed him.
The fight against 298 was already one he had no business surviving in the first place. It took a combination of luck, a reckless gamble, and the will to risk his life twice in a row to even get out of the Bloodpit in one piece… and barely breathing at that. Cyrus didn't know if the bony youth had managed to awaken since then either, let alone get through the chaos of the rebellion like the rest of the prisoners.
And yet, even though Cyrus had managed to 'rest' a bit while he was being dragged through the tunnels by the guard, his condition had barely improved. Running into the forest had pushed him even deeper into the pit of exhaustion, every step burning through strength he shouldn't even have left. And with the guards most likely chasing after them, he knew that neither he nor Sylvie could afford to slow down or take a break.
Still, it was that desperate escape from the monstrous bird that had truly sapped his last ounces of strength. It was one fight too many, and his already battered body had finally been pushed over the edge.
By the time his mind blanked out, he could barely make out Sylvie's desperate cries calling for him before he collapsed on the ground with a thud, his last shred of consciousness finally slipping away.
…
"Where do you think you're going, you brat? Get back! Beggars must register through the northeast entrance of Novera!"
The loud, impatient voice of a man was the first thing Cyrus heard the moment he regained some of his senses.
His eyes snapped open immediately afterward, only for him to feel the small, frail back he was leaning against tremble slightly. The vivid crimson hair his face was resting against seemed to have lost some of their luster from the last time he had seen them, but for some reason, Sylvie didn't budge, even when faced with the tall man blocking her way.
Raising his head, Cyrus saw an armored man even taller than 298, standing at more than 1.9 meters(6'3ft) — and definitely much burlier than the slender youth— staring at her with clear contempt.
It was an almost comical sight: a small, thirteen-year-old girl standing with her back straight against the towering giant.
And yet, Sylvie firmly held her ground. No, in fact, she did more than that.
Staring at the armored guard, she stepped forward and spat through gritted teeth
"Beggars? How dare you? My name is Sylvia Vorilys!"
"Vorilys?" The guard muttered questioningly, clearly taken aback by the young girl's unexpected outburst. A moment later, however, he seemed to have realized something and his calm demeanor finally changed. Glancing at the battered girl who indeed looked no different from a street beggar, he asked hesitantly
"Vorilys… as in Vorilys Thyen?"
Sylvie nodded, and despite her minute uncomfortable shift, her gaze never left the guard as she answered
"He is my father." The guard flinched. A flicker of unease crossed his face. Vorilys Thyen's daughter?
In the end, the man studied Sylvie for a few more moments, before he eventually stepped to the side and said
"I… see. I didn't know Lord Vorilys had a daughter. I've only ever heard about his sons."
Sylvie nodded and didn't say anything in response. Her feet staggered but she still pushed through as she returned to Novera once more, leaving the guard and a small crowd of spectators behind her.
Cyrus didn't speak. Not because he didn't want to… But because he couldn't.
He was in Novera now? Not Morwyn or the Amethyst Forest?
The young girl continued forward while he struggled to process what he'd just learned.
Back in the Amethyst Forest, Sylvie had already told him about the city on the other side— the one that was supposedly even bigger than Morwyn and the place she was born, Novera, the city of adventure.
But the moment he collapsed, he was almost certain he'd never make it out of the forest. If he was lucky, he would probably die from the lack of food and water there. If he was unlucky, another giant bird or something similar would get to him first. And if his luck had truly run out, the guards of the Zyvarros would find him before any of that happened!
But the idea that he'd be carried out of the forest? That had never even crossed his mind! Looking at the shaky, exhausted steps Sylvie was trying to force herself through and listening to her heavy breathing, Cyrus finally said
"Stop! Put me down!"
*Cough!*
A violent cough followed as his neck burst with another wave of pain that made him wince. Clearly, the wound 298 had given him was nowhere close to healed, yet.
Still, Sylvie hurried to lower him the moment she heard his voice, her eyes going wide with concern plastered all over her face.
"Ah! Cyrus! You are awake??"
Cyrus didn't answer the obvious question. Instead, he forced down the coughs that threatened to worsen his injury and simply stared at the red-haired girl.
Her emotions were… concern and joy?
'"Why?" He asked slowly.
Sylvie didn't seem to understand and Cyrus slowly continued
"Why didn't you leave me? Why did you carry me here? This *cough* is Novera…?" Another cough, and this time, a dark patch of crimson followed, staining the stone pavement between his feet.
Sylvie lowered her head and looked around her for a moment. She had pulled him into an isolated alley, and although a few pedestrians threw glances at them as they walked by, no one seemed to bother with two beggars at the side of the street.
The red-haired girl looked at Cyrus and then… she plopped down beside him and burst into tears. Her sobs were barely suppressed as she cried in a muffled voice
''I-I'm sorry! I really am! I wanted to help you but that bird was so scary, I couldn't move! I-I tried, but I really couldn't!''
Cyrus looked at the girl in bewilderment. Her cries grew louder and louder, echoing through the isolated alley — and for the first time, he felt… puzzled.