Amukelo: The Burdened Path

Amukelo stepped out of the lake, his clothes clinging to his damp skin, water dripping from his arms as he moved. He almost didn't acknowledged the injury in his arm. But because of the fresh body he felt lighter, his skin free from the weight of months' worth of dirt and dried blood. It was strange—he hadn't realized just how much filth had built up on him until it was gone.

As he approached, he handed the broadsword to Idin with the hilt first. "Here," Amukelo said, nodding slightly. "Thanks."

Idin took the sword, examining it briefly before sliding it back into its sheath. He gave a simple nod in return. "Anytime."

Before Amukelo could say anything else, Bral stepped closer, his face more serious than usual. He looked at Amukelo for a moment, then let out a deep sigh.

"I'm really sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "If I knew something like this would happen, I wouldn't have forced you to go in."

Amukelo blinked, taken aback. He hadn't expected an apology—it wasn't like Bral had done anything wrong. He raised his hands awkwardly, as if trying to wave away the guilt.

"It's nothing." His voice was casual, but there was a hint of uncertainty in it, like he wasn't sure if this was the right thing to say. "And you didn't force me. In fact... it actually feels really nice to be clean."

Before anything else could be said, Pao and Bao appeared, jogging toward them.

"What happened?" Bao demanded, her sharp gaze immediately scanning the area as if expecting another threat to emerge.

Bral exhaled, crossing his arms. "Amukelo was attacked by some weird, large fish."

Amukelo, still unsure how to properly react to people worrying about him, just smiled awkwardly. He wasn't sure if he should downplay it or make a joke, so he just stood there.

Pao, however, ignored the explanation entirely. She stepped forward, her green eyes immediately locking onto his injured arm.

Then, without a word, she grabbed his forearm.

Amukelo stiffened slightly, his body reacting before his mind did. The touch was unexpected—warm, gentle, but unfamiliar.

"Huh? What are you doing?" he asked, confused.

"Don't move for a moment," Pao said, her voice firm but soft.

Amukelo was about to ask why when her staff flickered with light.

A warm green glow enveloped his arm, wrapping around his wound like a living entity. He watched in silent amazement as the pain faded almost instantly, the torn flesh stitching itself back together in seconds. The deep bite wound, which had only moments ago throbbed with raw pain, was gone. Not even a scar remained.

Amukelo flexed his arm, turning it over, inspecting it from every angle. His eyes widened slightly, filled with genuine awe.

"Wow… that's cool," he muttered. Then, his lips curved into a genuine smile. "You're awesome, Pao. It didn't even leave a scar."

At the mention of scars, something shifted. The group's eyes, almost unconsciously, trailed to his body. For the first time, they really looked at him.

Bral's usual smirk faded slightly. Idin's brows furrowed. Bao, despite her usual sharp demeanor, remained silent. And Pao—her bright green eyes, which had moments ago been filled with excitement, suddenly dimmed.

Amukelo, still caught up in marveling at his healed wound, didn't even notice. But they did. His body was covered in scars.

The deep gash on his side, from where the Hollow Cutter had nearly disemboweled him. The long, jagged mark across his trap, left by the griffin. The massive, brutal scar that stretched across his back from his encounter with the werewolves.

And the way he stood there, smiling, completely unfazed by their presence, told them everything they needed to know.

Pao's fingers twitched slightly around her staff. She had healed his arm. But she couldn't do anything about the wounds that must'vehealed on its own.

"Wow, really, as if nothing happened," Amukelo said, flexing his arm again, still oblivious to their reactions. "Thank you, Pao."

His warm smile caught her off guard. For a second, she forgot how to respond. Then, her cheeks turned slightly pink, and she quickly looked away. "I-It's nothing," she muttered.

Bral finally broke the silence with a slow shake of his head. "You really had it tough in the wild, huh?"

Amukelo tilted his head slightly. "Huh? Why do you say that?"

Bral just sighed. He didn't answer. Instead, he turned toward Bao, a playful smirk creeping back onto his face, though there was still something in his expression that seemed more thoughtful than before.

"So," he said. "Does his smell still irritate you, or are you fine with him traveling with us now?"

Bao rolled her eyes but let out a small sigh, crossing her arms. "It's fine."

Then, before Amukelo could even register what was happening, she took a step closer.

And then she bowed slightly. "Thanks for saving us earlier." Her voice was measured, controlled, but there was a sincerity beneath it. "And… I apologize for my previous demeanor."

Amukelo froze. His mind short-circuited. This was not a situation he had been prepared for.

His body reacted first—his hands shot up in an awkward defensive motion, as if unsure whether to wave off her words or just stand there.

"No, no, it's fine!" he said quickly. "There's no need to apologize for anything!"

Bao simply nodded, but her gaze lingered on him for a second longer before she stepped back.

Amukelo stood there for a moment, his brain still trying to catch up.

He had fought creatures bigger than himself, survived situations that should have killed him. But somehow, dealing with people was proving to be much harder.

Bral motioned for Amukelo to sit down on a rock near the lake's shore, unsheathing a small blade from his belt. 

"Alright, let's make you look like a human again," he said, stepping behind Amukelo.

Amukelo exhaled slowly, running a hand through his damp hair. It had grown longer than he had realized—thick, uneven, and unruly from months of neglect. He had never cared much about his appearance, but now, standing there, surrounded by people who were used to civilization, he suddenly felt… out of place.

Bral didn't waste time. With precise motions, he began cutting through the tangled strands, tossing chunks of damp hair to the ground as he worked. The blade was sharp, and each cut was clean, leaving shorter, more even layers in its wake.

"You're actually lucky," Bral muttered as he worked. "If we were in a town, we'd have to pay for this kind of thing. And I'm not cheap."

Idin, standing nearby with his arms crossed, smirked. "You should've just left it. He could've made a name for himself as 'Amukelo, the Untamed.'"

Amukelo rolled his eyes but didn't say anything. For the first time in a long while, he actually felt comfortable.

After a few minutes, Bral stepped back, examining his work.

"There. You're officially no longer a forest creature."

Amukelo ran a hand through his shorter hair, feeling the unfamiliar lightness. He stood up, stretching slightly, then reached for the cloak Bral had given him. The fabric was sturdy, the inside lined with softer material, providing warmth without being stifling. As he threw it over his shoulders and fastened it, he felt different. 

"Wow," he murmured, rolling his shoulders under the cloak. "It's a really good feeling to be clean."

Bral grinned and clapped him on the back. "Yeah, you don't look like a wild man anymore."

Then, he stepped aside, motioning toward Pao. "Alright, Pao. Your turn. Use your magic."

Pao, who had been waiting excitedly, lifted her staff. A soft white glow spread from the tip, surrounding Amukelo in a faint aura. It was a warm, tingling sensation—not uncomfortable, just strange.

A moment later, the glow faded. Amukelo blinked. Then sniffed the air. He smelled like vanilla.

Idin, who had been silent until now, let out a small chuckle and shook his head.

He pinched the bridge of his nose with a smile, looking at Pao with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

"What?" Pao asked, tilting her head.

Idin sighed, still smiling. "Nothing. I'm just still amused that you have a spell like this." He glanced at Bral and Bao, who were also shaking their heads slightly. "You really love magic, don't you?"

Pao grinned proudly. "Of course! Magic is amazing! Why wouldn't I love it?"

Amukelo smirked slightly, adjusting his cloak. The sensation of being clean, of smelling like something that wasn't blood and sweat, was almost surreal.

Bral, still grinning, clapped his hands together.

"Alright. Now that all the minor issues are dealt with, we can continue our travel." He glanced toward the horizon. "If I remember correctly, we still have about a week before we reach Llyn, so let's not waste time."

The group gathered their supplies and set off once again, falling into a steady pace.

They walked mostly in silence. The only sounds were the rhythmic crunching of boots against the dirt path and the occasional rustle of wind through the leaves.

For the others, this silence seemed natural. But for Amukelo, it was awkward.

He had spent so much time alone that he felt like there was supposed to be some sort of conversation. Wasn't that how people traveled together? Talking?

After a while, he couldn't take it anymore.

Clearing his throat slightly, he glanced toward Bral and asked, "So… did you all know each other before traveling? Or did you meet during your journey?"

Bral glanced at him with a hint of amusement, his lips curling into a smirk. "Oh? Socializing, are we?"

Amukelo felt heat creep up his neck. "I was just asking."

Idin let out a small huff of amusement. "Don't listen to him." He looked at Amukelo properly and continued, "Actually, we knew each other before. But we weren't close or anything."

Amukelo raised an eyebrow. "Then how did you end up traveling together?"

Idin shrugged. "Our parents knew each other. We used to see each other at banquets or meetings, but we never really interacted."

"So it was a coincidence?"

Bral nodded. "More or less. We all had the same goal—to become adventurers. So we figured, why not travel together?"

Amukelo considered that. In his village, everyone knew everyone. If your parents were familiar, you were automatically familiar too. The idea of knowing someone for years without ever really speaking to them was strange to him.

"How could your parents know each other, but you not know each other?" he asked, frowning slightly. "In my village, that wouldn't happen. Everyone knew everyone."

Bral laughed softly. "Oh, Amukelo," he said, shaking his head. "You have no idea how big the world is."

Amukelo furrowed his brows.

Bral smiled and continued, "There are places where you meet too many people to keep track of. You can be in the same city as someone your whole life and never even learn their name. But traveling with people you at least recognize is better than traveling with strangers. Since our parents knew each other, we could assume that we're good people."

Then, he turned toward the others. "Right?"

Idin nodded. Pao hummed in agreement.

Bao, however, crossed her arms. Then, in the most deadpan voice imaginable, she muttered, "I still doubt whether you're a good person."

Bral stopped mid-step. He turned to her, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense. "Come on, you're only saying that to mess with me, right?"

Bao said nothing.

Bral's smile wavered slightly. "…Right?"

Pao snickered. Idin covered his mouth as he laughed.

Amukelo, watching all of this, still didn't understand the dynamics between people.

Traveling together was… strange. But at the same time—He didn't hate it.