"I want it too!" Fiona's voice cut through the air with an impatience that made me smile inside. She may have been noble, but she was still a child. And children get carried away easily.
"All right, all right... today we're going hunting, tomorrow we'll change the agenda." I gestured with my hand as if to say, "No rush." They both nodded, their eyes shining.
We went deeper into the forest. The path became increasingly damp, the smell of wet earth and old leaves dominating everything. The tall trees filtered the morning light, creating patches of light and shade on the ground as if we were walking through a living-stained glass window. The sound of our footsteps mingled with the distant rustling of birds and small animals.
It was then that one of the guards came forward, his voice low but tense:
"We should stop here, young master. If we go any deeper, we may not be able to protect you properly."
I stopped and turned my face toward him. There was concern in his eyes—not fear, but caution. They were protecting me, of course, but they were also protecting themselves—anything that happened to me would fall on them.
"All right, then. Let's stop here." I smiled, trying to reassure them.
I took a few steps back and, with a practiced gesture, picked up my bow and one of the white-feathered arrows I was carrying on my back. I felt its weight in my fingers—light, precise. The cold metal at the tip and the rigidity of the wood in the bow brought me comforting familiarity.
"Stand to one side. You two hold the basket." I told the brothers, keeping my tone calm. They were both still absorbed in their surroundings, trying to understand what was coming next. Curious, but hesitant. It was as if they were testing how far they could go with me... and how much they could trust.
The guards looked at each other, exchanged a silent nod and sat down, not daring to block my view.
Without saying another word, I pulled the bowstring and fired.
The arrow cut through the air like a pale bolt of lightning, a flash of white amidst the fuzzy green of the woods. I heard the dry sound as it hit the wood. I walked a few steps, and there it was: stuck in the trunk of a tree about ten meters away, passing through a tiny creature.
A centipede.
But not just any centipede.
"It's a red-headed centipede!" exclaimed one of the guards, running over with wide eyes.
I got closer. The creature had a black, shiny body, as if it were made of liquid obsidian. But its head was a dull red, almost matte, like dried blood. It was already dead, impaled by the arrow.
There was something strange. I stood still for a few seconds, watching her. An uncomfortable feeling formed in the pit of my stomach. Something was pulsating there. As if I had been led to her.
I felt... a connection.
A faint thread of energy, almost imperceptible, but present. As if the lights of our lives - mine and hers - had vibrated on the same frequency for a moment. It wasn't luck. I knew where she was, even if I couldn't see. It wasn't the first time this had happened... but it was the first time I'd felt it so clearly.
"Ugh, how disgusting!" Fiona approached, grimacing.
"It looks nice." commented Maurice, with an expression of fascination, despite his revulsion.
"Can I touch it?" he asked, looking at me anxiously.
"It's poisonous, Maurice!" I warned, my voice lower now, as a reflection of the instinct that was taking hold of me.
I came back to myself, pushing the strange thoughts away. I blinked a few times and forced my brain to reorganize what I knew. Red-headed centipedes... where had I heard about them? I remembered an old line, whispered in the midst of old books and discussions about alchemy and poisons.
(Creatures of hot blood and silent poison. The crimson head announces slow death.)
But why was I able to find her so easily?
Why did it seem to... call to me?
I carefully pulled out the arrow. The centipede's body fell from the tree and hit the ground with a dry thud. Maurice crouched down, curious.
"Are you sure I can't catch it?"
Before anyone could ask another question or come any closer, I closed my eyes for a moment and searched my memory. The information came quickly, as if the answers had been there all along, just waiting to be remembered.
"Nocturnal animal... devours insects... its venom is paralyzing and inflammatory." I muttered, more to myself than to the others. I touched the creature's surface, feeling the cold and slimy texture of its body. The feeling of strangeness didn't leave me, as if this moment, this interaction, was something I had never experienced before.
For some reason, that centipede's head seemed... irresistible. It was as if something inside me had been awakened, a strange, primal sensation. The head, red and vivid, caught my eye like a juicy, freshly grilled steak, exuding a tantalizing aroma. I couldn't explain why, but the desire was almost uncontrollable. Determined to follow this inexplicable impulse, I reached out and pulled the creature's head off with a sudden movement.
A light blue liquid, as thick as nectar, leaked out of the centipede's head. The smell was strong, somewhat acidic, but something in me insisted that it was what I needed.
With a deep sigh, I put my head in my mouth and began to chew, feeling the strange, viscous texture of the poison mixed with the metallic taste of the meat. The children stood there, watching me with an expression of horror evident on their faces, their eyes wide with disgust as I swallowed. I could feel their revulsion in every glance, but the truth was that, for me, this wasn't just a meal. It was something more, something difficult to describe.
"Ugh." Fiona grimaced, almost turning her face away. "That's disgusting..."
Maurice didn't look any better. His eyes were fixed on me, but he couldn't hide his expression of displeasure. I didn't mind. What was happening inside me now... was more important.
When I had finished, I stood up with a slight sigh of satisfaction and threw the centipede's body into one of the baskets. One of the guards, visibly annoyed at the risk of the children touching something so repulsive, quickly grabbed a linen bag and put the body inside.
Without wasting any time, I quickly pulled out another arrow and shot it in the direction of the forest. The sound of the bow stretching echoed through the trees, and then the crack of the impact of another arrow hitting the target was accompanied by a voice of approval.
"Splendid shot!" said one of the guards, looking up at the tree ahead where a squirrel, wearing a small leafy hat, was trapped. The sight made the guard even more surprised.
"These guys are hard to see because of the hats on their heads..."