Chapter Text
She feels the blade right next to her neck — just one neat movement is enough to end her life here and now. They both know this, but they don't seem to attach any importance to it — they just continue to stand, almost motionless, waiting for the further development of the plot.
"Who are you and what are you doing here?"
Sona couldn't answer the stranger — not out loud. Fingers lightly touch the strings and a soft melody breaks the forest silence. Surprisingly, after that, the man did not immediately take off her head — in his place, she would easily have considered it something suspicious. Something magical. Although in Ionia, is magic surprising?
"I'm Sona. Maybe you've heard something about me?"
Relying on your own fame is a dirty trick, but it's necessary in the current situation. If it helps to avoid premature execution in foreign lands, then all means are good.
However, sometimes things don't go the way you want them to.
The scythe is getting closer. The blade burns her skin, presses so that in another second and her life will end in just an instant, in the middle of nothing — without a single sound.
"I don't know what you just did, but I don't like it when strangers try to get into my head. Do it again and you're dead. I haven't heard of any Sona, so answer me normally. What are you doing here?"
She sighs heavily, clenching her teeth in frustration. If she doesn't say anything, it won't end well, but touching the strings of etwal can turn into a tragedy for her. There is simply no way out. If there was a pen and paper here, then everything would be easier. Or if the Mister Unknown was standing right in front of her face, and not behind her back. Who's sneaking up on you from behind? Murderers, thieves, and other notorious villains? Despite the plight, there was no limit to Sona's indignation. A faint chill went through her skin, and the lump in her throat made it impossible to concentrate even on her own thoughts—it wasn't fear at all. Definitely indignation.
Why did everything turn out this way?
She'll have to flip a coin and hope for a successful outcome. For understanding. The fact that all the threats were just a bluff, even if the proof of the seriousness of his intentions concerns her body so openly.
"I'm mute"
There was no music this time. A light plucking of a string, almost inaudible. It was unknown if it was really necessary to use magic or if she was just calming herself down.
The main thing is that she's still alive.
"I communicate with magic. I'm sorry if I scared you. I just got lost."
She's not the one who needs to apologize. Not in front of him.
But it seems to have worked. Who knew that a drop of honesty would work so well on him.
The scythe slowly pulled away from the neck, and then completely disappeared from view. Only now did Sona hear his footsteps.
"Good girls don't walk through the woods alone, especially on the eve of the night."
She couldn't take her eyes off him. In the Demacia, men are clad in armor, sometimes even their faces are not visible. In everyday life, they are wrapped up in luxurious suits or at least in shirts. She had never seen a man who would allow himself to expose so much. She tries not to look at his muscles—isn't he cold at all? She tries not to pay attention to the fact that about half of his torso consists of some kind of metal-like growths — and this is allowed here? She tries to look anywhere, but she keeps coming back to him.
Sona needs to say something. Nothing comes to mind. Her fingers tap nervously on the etwhal. It's a pity that an old friend can't help here.
"It happened by accident. I walked away from the camp and lost the trail. Daydreaming"
Why do her words sound like an excuse? Why did she even have to report to some random man in the middle of the forest? This is completely absurd.
"By the way, you still haven't introduced yourself."
Remembering the proprieties right now is even more absurd. And it's dangerous, because she don't know if he'll take it as politeness or impertinence. The man laughs. Perhaps neither one nor the other.
"How formal and noble, but don't even try."
He smiles, grinning. He looks down from top to bottom, haughtily and contentedly, as a winner looks at a loser. Strange. They weren't even fighting.
"Call me Kayn. I advise you to remember this name well while you are here. If I see you doing anything suspicious, I'll immediately appear behind your back. Did you get it?"
Sona didn't have time to ask a question. His bravado seemed more like an attempt to intimidate a small child than a serious warning, but Kayn hastened to dispel all her illusions. She could have sworn he was standing right in front of her. Just a second ago. The stranger's silhouette simply faded into the shadows and disappeared, only to reappear right behind her back.
"The shadows will always be watching you. And I can be in every one of them."
She seemed to hear his words right in her ear. Too close, so close that Sona can almost feel someone else's breath on her skin. But when she turns around, she is greeted by emptiness. No one. No rustling, no cracking of leaves under someone's feet, no ringing of the wind. Sona nervously looks around, trying to find at least a ghost of someone else's presence, but in vain. She was really alone.
Somewhere in the distance, the light of a torch was trembling. Familiar voices were heard. — We've already searched you everywhere. Don't go that far anymore, it's easy to get lost here. Come on, we've already finished cooking dinner. Let's go back. Sona can only smile, nodding to her colleague. Her gaze is directed at the flickering shadow from the fire.