Arslan Senki: The Witch

Beneath the Mask

Elam ended up separating from Arslan and Zofia, off to get a replacement pail for the one they lost earlier.

Zofia and Arslan waited for him to return in the abandoned house nearby. It was awkward. Like when they had first met. Those were strange times.

Eventually they got over that. It took a couple of months but, they got close. Now Arslan was her best friend. The thought of him being mad at her made her feel...disgusted with herself.

They sat in silence as Zofia slowly removed her arm from the shirt. When Elam had pulled her back, he'd accidentally reopened her wound.

She winced in pain as her shirt brushed against it, catching Arslan's attention. "Oh my..." He muttered, his face full of worry. Zofia only laughed.

"Don't worry. It's just a scratch."

Arslan careful placed his hands on her shoulders and made her sit down on a large wooden chest. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"...I didn't want you to worry."

"Zofia. We're friends, aren't we?"

She looked at him, her expression unreadable. "Of course we are."

He smiled. "And we tell each other everything."

She chuckled. "We do...don't we?"

They went silent.

"Let me try and patch you up." Arslan offered. Zofia handed him the bandages. She turned around to pull her hair out of the way, lifting her arm so he could wrap the bandages around her shoulder.

"What are you thinking of then? Why do you look so sad?" Zofia asked. She already knew the answer.

The prince sighed. "Is there anything I can do, Zofia?"

"What do you mean?"

"As it is, I am nothing but a burden to everyone. Yet you and Daryun have been loyal to me." Prince Arslan said.

"Arslan-" Zofia said, but was cut off.

"Please don't do this!" A faint voice yelled from the distance.

Zofia and Arslan shot up and went to the window, Zofia's hand on her sword, ready to fight.

They saw a group of Lusitanians on the road, attacking a father by holding his daughter hostage.

"If you value your daughter's life, hand over your valuables!" The Lusitanian demanded.

"No!" The daughter yelled, but was silence when a soldier held his sword at her throat.

"I've already given everything I own to you Lusitanians! I even converted to your faith. My daughter is all I have left!" The father pleaded.

"Don't lie to us!"

"It's the truth!"

"Don't you care if your sweet girl lives?!"

"Please don't hurt her!" He begged.

Zofia was quick to let her emotions get the best of her, storming out of the house to fight off the Lusitanian group. Arslan followed behind her, but held her back.

"Wait. They'll recognize us from our swords." He said.

"Crap. I forgot about that." Zofia said. "So how are we supposed to fight them off without swords?"

Arslan looked around, trying to find a suitable weapon. He ran down the stairs and picked up a plough on his way down.

"Arslan! There is no chance you're going to fight a group of Lusitanians who want your head off your shoulders with a plough. That's just stupid."