Control of Lioran's body fell into Anahita's hands. His black eyes, which only moments ago had seemed cold and empty, suddenly lit up as if light had taken residence within them.
She looked down at her hands—or rather, Lioran's hands. His right hand was completely covered in blood, and dark, drying drops stained the left.
With a slight frown, she muttered under her breath,
"I can't go to the children like this… If they see these hands and this blood-covered face, they'll faint from fear."
She then walked toward the cart Goba had brought to transport the slaves. Inside the cart, among the scattered belongings, she searched for a moment until she found a leather water skin.
She picked it up, opened it, and held it beside her feet.
First, she placed her hands under the water and began washing away the blood. The red stains slowly dissolved and dripped onto the ground.
At the same time, she spoke with clear irritation in her voice.
"Do you always have to go this far…?"
At that very moment, Lioran—whose spirit had retreated into his inner world—was sitting on the ground within a dark, endless space.
His eyes were closed.
For a few moments, he simply breathed quietly in that deep silence.
A silence that, after all the violence and screaming… felt strangely comforting.
After washing her hands, Anahita gently washed her face as well, wiping away the traces of blood. She also cleaned the stains on her clothes as much as she could.
When she was sure that no sign of that violence remained, she took a deep breath and walked toward the children.
The sight of their trembling bodies tightened her chest. Her gaze instinctively lowered.
But when she reached the little girl, Rona… she stopped.
A warm, gentle smile appeared on her face—one that bore no resemblance to the cold expression from a few minutes earlier. She bent down and softly placed her hand on Rona's head.
Rona still had her eyes tightly shut. Her hands were pressed firmly over her ears, and her whole body was trembling.
But when she felt the warmth of that hand on her head, the trembling slowly began to fade. Hesitantly, she opened her eyes just a little.
At first, her gaze stayed low, wanting to make sure there was no danger.
Her eyes fell on the shoes… Lioran's shoes.
She swallowed nervously.
With a trembling heart, she slowly raised her head.
And then…
Instead of a bloody, terrifying face, she was met with a gentle smile. Calm. Kind.
It was still Lioran's face—without her knowing that, at that moment, another soul was behind those eyes.
Anahita gently placed one hand over her own ear, then slowly removed it—a simple gesture, but full of meaning.
She wanted Rona to understand that she could take her hands away from her ears now.
Seeing his warm smile and gentle behavior, Rona slowly calmed down. The trembling of her small body eased, and she understood the meaning of the gesture.
Hesitantly, she removed her hands from her ears.
When Anahita saw that Rona had understood her so quickly, she gently stroked the girl's head. Then she knelt down on the ground so they were at the same height and spoke in a soft voice.
"Good girl… you're a very smart child. What's your name?"
The fear had not completely left Rona's heart. Such a bitter experience was not something a child could forget in a single moment.
Her trembling lips slowly parted, and in a weak voice she said,
"M-my… my name… is… Rona… m-my lord…"
Hearing her shaky voice, Anahita felt her heart tighten. She tried to soften her tone and gently replied,
"Rona… that's a beautiful name. Just like you. You don't have to call me 'my lord.' You can call me… Ana—"
She paused for a moment.
"Lioran. Yes, you can call me Lioran. Can you tell me what you were all doing here?"
Rona was a little startled by her words. Until that day, she had never seen a white person treat her with such kindness and calmness. Everything was completely different from what her small mind had imagined.
That difference seemed to break the wall around her heart.
She lowered her gaze, twisting her fingers together as she quietly began to speak.
"Me… my brother Miran… and Goncha and Toncha… we ran away from our tribe… without telling the others…"
Anahita frowned with surprise and concern.
"Why would you do something so dangerous? Didn't you know how dangerous this forest is…?"
Rona lowered her head. Sadness settled openly on her small face. Tears gathered in her eyes, and her voice trembled.
"We knew… but I asked them to come with me…"
Her lips quivered.
"I… I've never tasted clean, sweet water before. In our tribe, the only water we have is muddy. Today… today is my birthday… so I wanted to drink a little clean water from the lake near here… just for my birthday. But… they caught us…"
She could no longer hold it in. Tears began to stream down her face as she wiped them away with her small hands, sobbing.
"It's all my fault… If I hadn't wanted clean water for my birthday, none of this would have happened… my brother wouldn't be hurt… If I had listened to my mother, this wouldn't have happened…"
Her thin shoulders trembled.
"It's all… my fault…"
Hearing Rona's words, Anahita's lips trembled. Tears gathered in her eyes without permission, and before she could stop herself, she pulled the little girl tightly into her arms.
A faint golden aura slowly rose around her body—soft and gentle. It wasn't bright or dazzling, but warm… like a light that simply soothed the heart.
Rona was startled at first.
All her life she had been told that white people were dangerous, that she should stay away from them—that they kidnapped people and turned them into slaves.
But now someone was holding her in an embrace that didn't feel frightening at all… it felt like a refuge she had always longed for. Her small heart softened, her breathing grew calmer, and the trembling of her body slowly faded.
Then Anahita's words—spoken through Lioran's mouth—settled softly in her ears.
"You didn't do anything wrong, sweetheart… none of this is your fault.
You're the bravest and smartest girl I've ever seen. Everything is over now. Don't worry… you're safe here."
It was as if a knot tied deep inside Rona's heart suddenly snapped.
Tears poured down her face, and the cry that had been trapped inside her chest for so long finally burst free.
Anahita's tears fell as well, one by one, onto the ground.
She held Rona even tighter and whispered softly, her voice broken,
"I'm sorry I came so late…
I'm sorry I couldn't save you sooner…
Please forgive me, my dear…"
Zubi and Goba, shovels in hand, were digging graves to bury the bodies of the three men. The ground was still hard, and each strike of the shovel echoed dully through the forest.
Goba's gaze drifted toward Anahita . When he saw the scene, his eyes widened in disbelief and he muttered,
"Zubi… look over there…"
Zubi, still holding the shovel, was about to snap at him in annoyance.
"Stop talking so much and do your—"
But his sentence never finished. His gaze froze in place, and like Goba, he stood there stunned.
He saw Lioran—the same person who only minutes ago had killed people like a monster, merciless and cold…
Now he was kneeling on the ground, crying together with a small child.
The shovel stopped moving, its tip sinking into the soil. Zubi held his breath. The scene before his eyes slowly faded, replaced by another image.
A memory from the past…
He saw his wife, her long brown hair flowing, holding a little dark-skinned girl in her arms.
The same look… the same kindness… the same warmth that Zubi had believed had vanished from his life forever.
The image lasted only a moment before fading away. Slowly, Zubi realized that the memory had resurfaced because of the kindness he had just witnessed from Anahita.
His throat tightened. Tears gathered in his eyes, and a bitter smile formed on his lips.
He murmured quietly to himself,
"Roya… I think I've finally found our savior. Someone who kills bad people like a monster… and heals the wounds of good people like an angel. I will serve him until my last breath."