Chapter 73 - Zaira's Arc: The Huntress Awakens

🔥 Part I – The Weight of Disobedience

"The flame may die with her, but the shadow it casts still haunts the living."

The forest swallowed her like a badly told secret. Every branch, every shadow whispered things she was not meant to hear.

Zaira had made her choice. She went in alone, leaving behind the rookie group led by the harsh and seasoned Ibrahim. Though the warnings echoed in her mind, the desire to prove herself as a huntress pushed her into the unknown—to discover something more.

Morning light barely pierced the treetops, and the forest sounds wrapped around her: snapping twigs, distant howls, and the breath of wind curling through moss. She tensed her bow at the rustle of leaves—just a rabbit, bolting in terror.

"Always chasing trouble, aren't you, Zaira?" murmured Zero from the top of a tree, tracking her every move.

Meanwhile, Ibrahim led the group with an iron fist. His blade gleamed like sunlight, and his commands cut sharper than steel.

"Straight for the jugular! Show no mercy. They're monsters—they deserve none," he barked, slamming his sword into a stone to mark the lesson.

Zaira wandered deeper, following sounds not made by beast nor bird—but voices. Unnatural voices.

She followed instinct, pushing through brambles and shadows until she saw the unthinkable.

A little girl.

She laughed, a sound like crystal bells, barefoot and wild, wearing a crown of wildflowers. For a moment, Zaira thought she wasn't human—but a dream conjured by the woods.

"Who are you? What are you doing out here alone?" Zaira asked softly.

The girl's bright golden eyes stared into her… and then she vanished into the underbrush.

"Wait—"

She didn't get the chance to follow. A deep growl vibrated behind her. Turning, Zaira froze.

A massive figure loomed—draped in black furs, eyes gleaming through the dim light.

"Άσε με ήσυχο," the beast growled in a language unknown, voice thundering through the stillness.

She didn't need to understand. The threat in that voice was enough. Without hesitation, she loosed an arrow—only to watch it be caught mid-air by clawed hands and torn in half like paper.

This isn't a beast, she thought. It looks at me like it knows me.

Before she could react, a flare lit the sky—emergency signal. Time to return. Zaira turned and ran, spotting a wounded comrade barely able to move.

"Shh… don't move," she whispered, slinging his arm over her shoulder.

"You can still run, rookie," she added. He nodded weakly.

She didn't lower her bow.

Back at camp, chaos ruled. They had suffered heavy losses. The new recruits were bloody, broken, or dead. Among them, Lucca had stood out—young, talkative, always defying orders just to stay close to Zaira. Now he was missing. Declared unreachable.

"Lucca! IBRAHIM!" Zero shouted, spotting a blood trail in the dirt.

When he found him, Lucca was already being torn apart by wolves. His shredded vest and hollow stare made the truth inescapable.

"This is your fault, Ibrahim," Zero growled, slamming into the leader. "You used him as bait to save yourself!"

"Survival is the only rule that matters," Ibrahim said coldly, wiping his sword with Lucca's blood-soaked scarf… and tossing it into the bushes.

Furious, Zero punched him square in the face. Steven stepped in before it could spiral further.

"Enough. We've got bigger monsters than each other. Save your hate for them," he snapped, forcing them apart.

When Zaira returned with a wounded survivor, the air in the camp was tense. Falco—her older brother—watched silently from the edges, his gaze sharp as ever.

As dawn painted the woods gold, Zaira paused to breathe. Her bow dangled from her hand. The pain from last night still burned on her skin. She glanced at Zero, then to the horizon.

"What now, Zaira?" he asked, breaking the silence.

She didn't answer right away. Someone handed her the bloodstained scarf. Lucca's. Her fingers trembled.

"I know what he meant to you," Zero whispered. "I'm sorry."

She swallowed, forcing a broken smile. Lucca had always said: "If I die tomorrow, just smile and let me go. Start living as Zaira the woman, not Zaira the huntress. I'll watch you from the sky."

"If there's a sky, he's probably smiling right now. Thank you, Zero," she said softly. "But I have something I need to find on my own… something hidden in the depths of this forest. Something not right about these hunts."

Zero tilted his head.

"Is it what Lucca told you—or what you saw out there?"

Zaira nodded slowly.

"I don't want more death… If there's something that could change everything… maybe a beast that's more human than monster… I need to find it."

Zero frowned.

"You're thinking dangerous thoughts, Zaira."

"I know," she replied, tightening her grip on the bow. "But I also know this—living caged by someone else's rules… isn't living. Not for me."

She stood and faced the woods.

"I have to see for myself."

Her breath was the only sound as the forest seemed to part for her.

"Watch what you say, Zaira. This might complicate everything," warned Zero, handing her a scrap of cloth.

"Lucca… are you watching me?" she whispered, searching the faces of the living.

Zero sighed.

"His death won't be in vain. He lived fully. And he was happy."

The world seemed to stop. His words were a balm against her sorrow.

"It was Ibrahim's fault too," Zero added quietly. "He left him alone."

That night, while the others slept, Zaira sat by the fire, awake. Her mind was a storm of guilt and doubt.

If I had followed orders… would Lucca still be alive?

Zero sat beside her.

"You can't carry it all, Zaira. He chose his path. We all did. You can't save everyone… no matter how much you want to."

Zaira said nothing. She knew he was right.

"I just want to choose my own path," she whispered. "Just like Lucca wanted. Just like I do."

Zero placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Then make that path, Zaira. And don't let anyone else decide it for you."

A memory lit her mind—Lucca's voice again:

"If you ever get lost in this forest, think of me. This stone always points north… and I'd always come back for you."

"I'm not alone," Zaira whispered, clutching the red stone.

She held the scarf like it burned. Because hunters don't cry. But daughters of the forest… they cry quietly.

Just before sleep took her, she noticed the stone glowed faintly. Not magic—just moonlight. But to her, it was a sign.

"North," she whispered. "Always north."