A few hours later, Alex and Lyra noticed the demons beginning to vanish. He stood frozen, staring at what unfolded before his eyes — the monsters dissolved into the gray-black mist, disappearing as if they had never existed. But Lyra didn't let him watch for long. With a swift motion, she pulled him along, leading him out of the slippery depths of the tunnels and straight onto the uneven, muddy riverbank.
They clung to the tall grasses, moving almost soundlessly. Their movements were tense, hurried — instinctively, they tried to get as far away as possible from the place they had just escaped. Their eyes still struggled to adjust to the light when the first grating sounds echoed in the distance — metal gates, barking voices of the guards. Despite their exhaustion, they rushed toward the river, pushing through the thicket and hiding in the reeds.
In a brief moment of respite, they filled their waterskins, drinking greedily. Alex looked around cautiously — the horizon seemed calm, but the unease lingered. The grass rustled softly, its shadows swaying with the wind, when suddenly the silence was torn by a sound they feared.
Lyra instantly turned toward the noise. Without a word, she grabbed Alex by the arm and pulled him deeper into the brush.
"They're looking for us," she whispered.
The words hit Alex like a cold wave. Images of cramped cells, slamming bars, and suffocating corridors returned with brutal force. They pressed themselves to the ground, hidden among the thickets, nearly merging with the surroundings. This time, they were the prey.
They crawled through the low shrubs and slipped under dense bushes whose branches wrapped around them like a living cage. Their skin was scratched again, and their breathing was short and ragged. They crouched, barely breathing, watching the approaching patrol.
Four figures emerged over the hill, leading hairy, squat beasts on leashes. Lyra and Alex tracked their every step, not moving an inch.
"They're tracking…" Alex whispered. "Maybe following our trail."
His voice trembled. His eyes darted toward the river, searching for an escape route. The creatures sniffed, stretching their necks, tasting the air. At one point, they raised their heads — then, unexpectedly, turned away and began heading in the opposite direction.
They waited several more minutes, frozen, ready to run. Only once they were sure the patrol was gone did they carefully make their way toward the river. Their steps grew more confident, their gazes sharp and alert. Every move was calculated — forward, scan, move again. They couldn't afford a single mistake.
Dark shapes loomed in the distance. They wanted no contact. Instead, they ducked back into the underbrush, and Alex, almost instinctively, looked over his shoulder one more time.
When the danger finally passed, they allowed themselves to collapse onto the damp earth. Their bodies were exhausted, but their minds remained alert, ready to react. The water brought brief relief. Even their chaotic breathing began to steady. Alex glanced at Lyra, who silently collected nearby plants. Her dark hair fell over her face, her hands confident and practiced as she gathered berries and herbs into her pack. Always in motion, always prepared.
At one point, she looked up at him.
"Shall we move on?" she asked softly, more out of habit than expecting an answer.
There was no need to say more. They both knew this wasn't over.
After the tension eased, they allowed themselves a longer rest. The earth was cool beneath them, and the clean water calmed their senses. Alex's breathing slowed.
He watched Lyra again. Her dark strands clung to her face, and her skilled fingers continued harvesting without pause. Then, without warning, she lifted her eyes.
"Let's go," she said.
"Just a moment," he replied. Then he walked to the river and plunged in, washing away the filth from the sewers.
Moments later, Lyra joined him. She submerged up to her shoulders, rinsing away blood and grime. As she emerged, her eyes glinted briefly. She raised her hand to stop Alex, staring intently at the water's surface. She raised her dagger.
And then — a flash. In a nearly imperceptible motion, she plunged the blade into the water and pulled out a large, writhing fish.
Alex froze.
"How… How did you do that?"
She smirked, revealing her white teeth.
"Years of practice. Finally, something better to eat than that slop," she said lightly, tossing the fish into her pack.
Her wet clothes clung to her form, highlighting her curves. The cold water left goosebumps on her skin, and through the thin fabric, her nipples were visible. Alex stood paralyzed, his gaze locked on her, unable to move.
Lyra threw over her shoulder, "You coming? Or planning to stand there till they find us?"
Snapped out of his daze, Alex followed without a word.
Despite their fatigue, they stood again and found a shallower crossing, sticking to the riverbank's shade. They chose a longer route, hoping to mislead their pursuers. Their movements were cautious, nearly silent. Lyra often paused, listening for something Alex couldn't hear. At times she held her breath, turned suddenly, changed course.
Alex struggled to keep up, pushing forward with clenched teeth, too proud to show his exhaustion. He wiped sweat from his brow, thoughts drifting to memories — places he barely remembered or perhaps only imagined. The past was a fading shadow now.