Between Their Smiles and My Burden

It was nearing dusk, the sun sinking behind the distant hills, painting the skies in fading gold and crimson. I hadn’t realised how much time had slipped by until then. Between chasing after Alice and Karen, laughing, and exploring every corner of the forest, hunger never crossed my mind. That hearty breakfast had fueled me all the way till now.

We had wandered far, even resting by a vast lake that stretched like a mirror of the sky. For a moment, I thought we had lost ourselves, but thankfully, the lake remained in view. It served as our guide; if we kept it close, we could always circle back. From its opposite shore, Grandma’s house would eventually come into sight.

As we walked along the water’s edge, we spoke of what awaited us back home. Alice and Karen insisted on dragging me to the market as soon as we returned, as if the celebration were already owed. They even sulked over how much they’d miss me once school began again. I promised them I would go and that I would visit whenever I could. Their smiles at that simple promise made me feel strangely lighter.

"..."

I followed her gaze. The clouds were brushed in fiery shades of red and amber, a painting worth capturing, if only there were such things as cameras here. For now, all we had was the gift of our eyes, forced to savour the fleeting beauty.

“Yeah… let’s head back,” I said quietly.

They both clung to my arms again as we turned toward home. They really wouldn’t let go. Not that I minded. Their warmth kept me grounded.

"!"

A low, guttural growl rolled through the trees. The sound was distant yet sharp enough to freeze us mid-step.

“What was that!?” Karen gasped, her voice trembling.

“Faster, we should hurry,” Alice urged. “It might be one of those wild beasts. Come on!”

We picked up the pace, following the curve of the lake. The water shimmered faintly between the trees, but Grandma’s house was still hidden from sight. The growls grew louder, heavier, followed by the thud of massive steps crashing through the underbrush.

We didn’t look back. Instead, we pushed into a jog, which soon became a panicked run.

Then it happened.

“Ah!” Karen stumbled; her foot caught on a jagged tree root. She pitched forward with a sharp cry.

“Karen!” I rushed to her side, pulling her up. Her face twisted in pain as she clutched her ankle, and a scrape was already forming on her knee.

“I-I’m fine…” she tried to insist, but her limp told the truth.

“Here, take my shoulder,” I said firmly, steadying her.

Alice quickly came to the other side. “Lean on us. We’ll carry you together.”

With Karen between us, we staggered forward, but the forest itself seemed to close in. Each step we took was met with a heavier thud, closer and closer. The ground quaked, and then...

"!"

A roar split the air, so fierce it rattled the very leaves from the branches.

I froze. Slowly, against my better judgment, I turned.

Towering behind us was a monstrous beast. It had the bulk of a bear, its body covered in dark blue fur. Drool streamed from its fanged maw as it growled, baring claws like jagged blades. Most terrifying of all, it bore a single glaring eye; the other was scarred shut with three deep slashes, likely from some old battle. Worse still, leathery wings stretched from its back, batlike, unnatural.

My chest tightened. Cold sweat slicked my palms, and my legs shook as if they no longer belonged to me.

The creature advanced, each step deliberate, savouring its prey. Instinct screamed to flee, yet my body refused to move. Fight, flight, or freeze, and I was frozen, rooted to the spot.

No. Not now. Not in front of them.

I forced my feet forward, peeling away from Karen’s side. I stepped ahead of them, arms spread wide, as if my trembling body could shield them.

“Elias! What are you doing!?” Karen cried.

“Come back!” Alice’s voice cracked with fear. “Are you insane!?”

The beast’s breath washed over me, foul and heavy. I thought I would collapse under it.

“Run!” I shouted, not daring to look back. “Both of you... RUN!”

But instead of fleeing, I felt them grab at my blazer, yanking me back.

“What are you doing!?”

"!"

Alice slapped me hard across the face. “Do you think dying will help us? Do you think that’s what we want!?”

Her words pierced deeper than her hand.

She was right. Even if I bought them seconds, this monster would tear through me and then chase them down. Still, wasn’t it better to try? To do something, anything, other than just wait for the inevitable?

I opened my mouth to answer, but the beast reared back. Rising on two legs, it lifted a clawed arm, ready to strike.

We raised our arms on instinct, pitiful shields against a force that could crush us like insects.

This was it.

Maybe I would now die and leap back in time again. But where would I land, back at that farewell, watching their carriage vanish, or somewhere else entirely? I sometimes found myself asking whether these leaps actually saved anyone. After all, no one really remembers a thing, and in each new time leap, does the old timeline just vanish, as if it never happened, or does each leap merely write a new version of the world, leaving me the only one who remembers? 

Those thoughts ached in my chest. It was so lonely, carrying lives no one else remembered.

But there was no time left to think.

The monster roared, its deafening cry shaking the air as its massive claw arced downward, just seconds away from tearing through us.

"!"

A guttural roar split the air, followed by a heavy thud. The beast collapsed onto its side with a violent shudder, its wings twitching once before falling still.

An arrow jutted from its skull, buried clean through the eye. Blood pooled darkly into the dirt. 

A perfect headshot.

We… we had been saved?

I spun around, scanning the trees. Could it be Grandma? Or Father? But if it were them, we would’ve seen the wyvern by now. 

Then who...?

My eyes caught movement from trees overhead.

Perched atop a thick branch stood a figure, bow still drawn. For a heartbeat, I thought it was a trick of the light. But no, the outline was clear. Clothes of woven leaves and silken threads clung lightly to a small frame, almost like a skirt rustling in the breeze. Golden hair, short and neat, with a braid running down the front, gleamed faintly in the dying sunlight.

A girl. No taller than me. Yet the bow in her hand was steady, the gaze on her face unyielding, as though the act of slaying monsters was as ordinary as breathing.

Then my breath caught.

Her ears. Long, tapering to graceful points.

“An… elf?!” I exclaimed.