Alarion stared at the tools laid out before him, still slick from the rain yet untouched by time. Nails. Planks. Rope. Everything he needed to build the crate was right there, as if someone had read his mind.
His chest tightened.
> This is too convenient…
He crouched down slowly, eyeing the supplies with suspicion. His hand hovered over a plank, but he didn't touch it.
> If I take this… will something happen?
A curse? Poison? Lightning from the gods?
He clenched his jaw.
> But if I don't… I can't take Elly with me.
The forest felt suddenly quiet. No rustling, no wind. Only the distant chirping of birds and the rhythmic splash of water tumbling over rocks in the river nearby. The silence felt almost… staged.
He took a breath, long and steady, and reached out.
His fingers brushed the plank.
Nothing happened.
He grabbed it fully, lifted it, turned it over, checked the back and front. Still nothing. No marks. No traps. No strange carvings.
"Guess there's no curse," he muttered. "Not yet, at least."
But even as he set it aside, that figure returned to his thoughts. The cloaked stranger. The one who had appeared after the demon fight… and again just days ago.
> Why are they helping me?
He shook his head quickly, as if to throw the thought away.
>No. I'll figure that out later. For now… I need to build.
The days bled into each other.
Between cutting, binding, and testing, Alarion spent hours at the riverside. He scavenged for berries and roots, but mostly relied on fish. And while he wasn't starving, the taste was beginning to wear thin.
"I'm really getting tired of fish," he grumbled one afternoon, tossing a cleaned bone aside. "Can't wait to get out of here."
There were other animals in the forest. He'd seen them ,heard them, even. But something about hunting them felt… wrong. Maybe it was fear. Maybe something else. He didn't question it too much.
Finally, after nearly a week, he lay face-down in the dirt, arms splayed, body aching.
"Done… finally…" he muttered, barely lifting his head. Then, with a groan, he rolled over and sat upright, bracing one hand against the ground as he caught his breath.
His eyes turned to the crate beside him.
It wasn't beautiful...but it was brilliant.
The structure was rectangular, compact, and firm. Unlike normal crates that opened from the top, this one had a side-access design, reinforced at the corners. He'd carved out ventilation holes at the top and lined the interior with Quan leaves, soft and strong perfect for cushioning her body.
> Author's Note: Quan leaves grow only in enchanted forests. Rare and dense, they're prized for absorbing impact inside containers meant to carry delicate or sacred cargo. Due to their rarity, few people use them unless they truly must.
The planks came from the forest. The color on the outside? Smeared from crushed Humdai nuts, forming a soft brown tint that dried quickly in the sun.
He didn't smile. He was too tired for that. But a spark of pride flickered behind his eyes.
He stood up, slipped his arms through the loops, and lifted the crate onto his back. It balanced perfectly.
I can finally continue…
The next morning, he returned to where Elaria lay, still tied securely to the high branch.
Climbing that tree again? Not happening. Not after all the bruises and splinters from before. He'd left her there for safety but now it was time to go.
"Don't worry, Elly," he whispered, reaching for her with slow, careful hands. "Tomorrow… we're leaving this cursed forest."
His eyes narrowed, resolve settling into his bones like iron.
> No more delays. No more setbacks. It's time to move forward.