The Jinn's Ten-Year Oath

Liora woke with a dull ache in her limbs, her muscles stiff from sleep and overuse. Bruises bloomed beneath her skin like forgotten ink, and the cuts on her arms still throbbed faintly. But she didn't linger in bed. She couldn't.

The bakery felt too quiet.

The air still held the scent of honey-glazed crust and steamed wheat. Yet it felt hollow now, like the warmth had been borrowed and was slowly leaking away. Only Amorien's soft breathing filled the silence. He slept curled beneath layers of cloth, his small chest rising and falling with a rhythm that anchored her to sanity.

Even in this fading world, he gave her peace.

She'd baked early that morning—despite the soreness, despite the dizziness. A hundred soft milk rolls, shaped with care. She placed them in a basket and set one in the boy's tiny hands. He chewed slowly, half-asleep, his cheeks dusted with crumbs.

She watched him eat, and for a moment, it almost felt like things would be okay.

But peace, she reminded herself, was not something she could afford.

She had to prepare. She had to leave the Forgotten Forest.

The talisman shop lay tucked in the crumbling edge of the old market.It sat wedged between a dried herb vendor and a broken alchemist's booth, as if forgotten by time itself.

The prices were worse than she feared.

Powdered jade, binding thread, a rune-etched carving blade—just the basics nearly emptied her pouch. Even the cheapest vial of magic-storing dust was absurd. She handed over two mid-tier magic stones with a blank expression, her heart sinking beneath her calm exterior.

But she said nothing.

She worked. For the next three days, she hardly slept. Her wounds ached, her body cried for rest—but she ignored it. Her fingers moved with the precision of a trained sculptor, steady even under pressure. The talismans she carved were perfect—each stroke sharp, clean, without flaw.

Fifty talismans. Not a single one failed.

Back in her palace days, servants and guards whispered she was gifted—born with the talent of a divine scribe. But talent was only half of it. What they never saw was the countless nights she'd practiced alone under lanternlight, shaking with fatigue, remaking the same charm again and again until her hands bled and her heart grew numb.

By the end of the third day, five boys and two girls had joined the orphanage. But Liora couldn't stay. Not yet. She had one mission burning through her veins like fire:

She had to get out of this cursed forest.

And she had to warn her parents.

---

The hunting party she joined numbered six in total. A compact but promising team.

She showed them her bow—sleek and curved with a core inlaid with talisman circuits. It thrummed faintly with held power.

"Hunting is about precision," she said, meeting their gazes without blinking. "Let me cover your flanks."

The leader, Corven, was a stoic shield-bearer, his armor battered but dependable. Beside him was Haris, all muscle and lazy smiles, wielding a single-edged sword that looked older than his boots. Kallen, the spear-wielder, never said a word, but his eyes missed nothing.

Two women rounded out the team. Lina, a wind mage who blushed at compliments but never missed a chant. And Hessa, the healer—strong-shouldered, quiet, carrying pots, food, bandages, and the team's emotional weight without complaint.

But now Liora carried it too. She shared Hessa's burden—packing rations, keeping watch at night, tending small wounds. It grounded her. Kept her from thinking too much.

Their goal: hunt twenty awakened beasts.

---

The forest grew darker as they pushed deeper—roots thicker, paths twisted, even the sun seemed unsure how to shine here. They took no chances. Every step was measured. Every breath cautious.

In afternoon, Lina held Kallen's hand a little too long as they stepped across a shallow stream. Hessa smiled softly at the sight.

"They're cute together," she murmured.

Liora nodded. "They are. Let them fall in love. If this place kills us, at least they'll die with someone holding their hand."

Hessa flinched—just slightly. Her smile faltered.

Liora didn't apologize.

---

Not long after, she saw it.

"A mouse," she said quietly, eyes narrowing on the underbrush ahead.

Corven followed her gaze. "You want to use it as bait?"

"It could work."

He frowned. "They'll come for you first, not the bait."

Kallen smirked. " First kill of the day brings luck, right?"

Liora didn't argue. She didn't need to.

She pulled an arrow from her quiver and loosed it in one fluid motion. The mouse crumpled without a squeak.

No celebration. No boast.

The team quickly retreated into the shadows, hiding among the branches of a thick-blossomed tree. They uncorked small vials of black liquid—scent maskers, made from fermented woodmoss and spirit vinegar.

Hessa handed Liora a vial. "Here."

Liora sniffed it once and nearly gagged. It reeked of rot and tar.

She pocketed it without using it. "I'll manage."

Mosquitoes found her immediately. They bit through cloth, through skin, buzzing like curses around her ears.

She didn't swat them.

Inside her, something darker stirred.

She felt them die when they touch her body—dozens of tiny lives swallowed Kale every momy.It soothed her strangely. Like a hot drink in winter.But she remember if kale want he could swallow her like this.

An hour passed.

Then came the tremor. A rustle in the leaves. A low, heavy grunt.

A boar emerged—massive, tusked, its fur streaked with mud and blood. Yellow eyes flickered with instinct and malice. It sniffed the mouse's corpse. Snorted.

And charged. Liora had already moved.

The first arrow struck the shoulder, embedding deep. The second buried into its neck.

The beast collapsed mid-charge, crashing into the undergrowth with a pained squeal that cut short before it fully echoed.

Silence.

Then footfalls behind her.

Haris let out a low whistle. "Not bad, princess."

Liora turned to face them. Her expression was stone. Her bow lowered, but her fingers still twitched from adrenaline.

"You may not believe me but I am really a princess," she said sharply. "If you ever tell me princess ,I will live the team."

Corven met her eyes, unreadable. Then he nodded once.

"No.We believe you but when you come here it doesn't matter anymore.When our ancestors come here some of them was from Royal Family."

---

That night, the forest grew colder. The fire flickered. Meat roasted over flame, and the team ate in relative quiet.

But Liora sat apart, arrow tips glinting in her lap as she sharpened them one by one. Her thoughts drifted—not to victory, not even to the next hunt—but to a tiny chest rising and falling under a blanket of cloth in her space. She also give little piece of roasted meat to Wearwolf baby and little amo.

Amorien is still baby.But he had no one else.

And she would not fail him.

Not again.She looked up. Hessa was watching her.

"Your arrows…" the healer said, coming closer. "They're... beautiful. I've never seen talisman lines that small."

Liora didn't meet her eyes. "It's nothing."

"No. It's not. Did you... study under someone?"

Liora hesitated. "I practice more than anyone."

Hessa knelt beside her, quiet. "You're really something. You move like you've been fighting for years."

"I have."

"They sat in silence for a while. Somewhere behind them, Haris was sharpening his blade too loudly. Lina and Kallen shared a blanket, whispering in low tones. Corven snored beside his shield.

"Why did you join us?" Hessa asked eventually.

Liora stared into the fire.

"I need to leave this forest," she said. "And this is the only way I can gather the strength to do it."

"You can't do it. "

Liora blinked. Slowly, she turned her head. "What makes you say that?"

Hessa said gently. "I see many people who tried and died.Here almost all people die in a forest, no a natural death . At least I don't see any people die in our town.Don't take risk ,you will not get second chance."

Liora said nothing.Liora gave the smallest of nods.

Later that night, as the fire died down and the team rotated watch, Liora stood alone beneath the trees. Her talismans were tucked neatly in her pouch. Her bow sat across her back. Her fingers touched the hilt of her blade, then the amulet around her neck.

A whisper of wind carried her mother's voice in memory: "Never lower your eyes in front of monsters. Never dull your blade for fear of being hated. You are a princess. Not because of title. But because you dare to face the darkness."

"I'm coming back," she whispered. "Soon."

Kale's voice returned, "Be carefull .I can't see but a massive life force is coming."

She turned sharply. Her senses flared. But there was nothing in the woods—only trees, wind, and the crackle of dying fire.

But deep down, she knew he was right.

Something was coming.

And she wasn't ready. she stood, scanned the trees—and yelled.

"Get up! Wake up! Now!"

The camp jolted into motion. Corven was the first to rise, shield in hand. Haris rolled from his blanket and unsheathed his sword. Lina gasped, clutching her staff. Hessa grabbed the pack, slinging it over her shoulder even as she stumbled toward the others.

"What is it?" Corven demanded, eyes already sweeping the woods.

Liora didn't answer imimmediatelimmed---Would you like the next section to show Liora's deeper conflict with the team? A night ambush? Her discovery of the Forgotten Forest's memory curse bbbbebegibbe