The forest was quiet except for the crackle of their fire. With his old axe, Elias had removed some branches and collected firewood for their group. He dropped off more firewood while Thompson stoked the fire. Alice paced around the single-room house and watched through the vacant windows.
The house had a foundation made of stone with a few pillars remaining. Plants poked up from the cracks and moss grew in spots. Since the corruption had taken over multiple holes had opened up in the walls. The space where the doorway was, was now more open air than a wall. Thompson started to unpack some of their supplies as the campfire started to grow. The holes in the building gave the fire ample room to send sparks upward into the night sky. Elias returned once more with an armful of wood and his axe in the other hand.
Alice, still pacing, her boots crunching on the mossy floor, finally stopped, and turned to her companions. “Thompson, how's that fire coming along?”
“It is almost there. We’ll be warm for a while. The food will be ready in a few minutes once I put them over the fire.”
The trio settled around the campfire, their faces bathed in the warm, orange glow. It was a welcome respite from the looming darkness that surrounded them, a brief moment of solace in a land overtaken by corruption. The smell of cooking food began to fill the air as Thompson carefully placed their provisions over the crackling fire.
With a deep breath, Alice spoke, "We'll take turns keeping watch tonight. Thompson, you take the first shift. Elias and I will get some rest."
Thompson nodded, his eyes scanning the dark forest beyond the fire's reach. “Get some food in you before you rest at least. You’ve barely eaten all day.”
Thompson grabbed a few pieces of food and held them out for Alice. She took the offered food gratefully, her hunger overpowering her anxiety for a moment. She chewed slowly, savoring the simple flavors. They continued in silence, the fire crackling and the shadows dancing around them.
After their meager meal, Elias handed Thompson a makeshift torch to use as he took over the watch. The forest beyond the campfire was an eerie place at night, with strange noises and shifting shadows. Thompson nodded his thanks and took his position, casting his gaze into the darkness.
“You didn’t speak much on our ride here,” said Elias.
“None of us seemed to be jumping into conversation on our way here,” replied Thompson.
“Then why don’t we change that now,” said Elias. He looked back to the destroyed house. Alice had already started to settle in and had prepared her bedroll for the night. “We didn’t speak much at the castle. I ran off to explore the city and you know how that went. I guess I’ll ask the obvious question though it probably has been asked before. Why the crossbow over other weapons?”
Thompson sighed as if expecting the question as Elias anticipated. “I have tried archery. Got pretty good at it too. I can shoot targets from 500 feet away with no issue. The problem has been my speed of firing. My hands aren’t always steady with a bow. I need both hands gripping the weapon to be a better shot. So, I transitioned early on to using the crossbow. I still now and then compete in archery competitions, but it takes forever for me to prepare my shots in comparison.”
“I can’t imagine that your father was happy to see you make that change. Didn’t he set a few range records with his bow and kill counts.”
"You're right, my father was a legend with the bow. He held numerous records, and his kill count was unmatched. He was proud of me when I showed promise with archery, and for a while, I trained rigorously under his guidance. But then..."
He paused; his eyes distant as if lost in the past. Elias waited patiently, sensing that this was a story that needed to be told.
"Then came the incident that changed everything," Thompson continued, his voice tinged with sadness. "We were on a hunting trip deep in the woods, tracking a particularly elusive dashing moose. I had my bow, and my father, of course, had his. We finally cornered the beast, and that's when it happened."
Elias stayed silent, not wanting to interrupt or talk about himself.
"I took my shot, but it was a tough angle, and the arrow missed its mark. The creature, wounded but not dead, started to run away with the arrow buried in its side. I reacted on instinct, went for another arrow, and fired. I missed it again and my father let me deal with it on my own. We chased it down for another hour. It took me a minute to line up my shot. My hand was so unsteady. His disappointment was clear. Since then, I moved away from using the bow.”
“Learning and living up to your parents can be a difficult thing,” said Elias finally deciding to speak. “I never really knew my dad. Nowadays I can’t remember much of his voice. He started to put me on the path of the sword, and I have stuck to it ever since. It is my path and my very life. It now feels wrong to not have my sword by my side. I hope that I have made him proud. I know that by now I am a much better swordsman but there is also much I have had to do that he would despise.”
“How did he die?”
“By doing something I don’t have the luxury to do. He died in the golden or glory days of the kingdom. The biggest worries then were intercontinental and island relations between us and others. I don’t know the exact details and have not tried to find out further. The guards that told me tried their best to tell a young me what happened. He died at the hands of a random killer. It was senseless and meaningless to the man. My father just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. He could have chosen to attack the man and win but did not. He always thought the sword was a weapon for defense, not war.”
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“I’m sorry,” said Thompson. He looked down at the ground and then into the forest.
“It is fine. I’ve long moved on and accepted the fact that he is gone. He lived in a different time where peace was a constant.”
“I hope that the time for peace can return as well. The war has effectively stalled. Being in the capital I know what the city and the king are thinking. They have sent no more soldiers to burn these forests and attack the corruption because there is no point. While they slept the corruption grew anyway either over or through them. The evil was harsher and more aggressive based on the stories back then. Now though it is happy to build itself up and grow slower. The capital and its people have given up.”
“I’ve accepted this role, and this is my penance. Years ago, I was in the military while those battles were still taking place. We made some progress, but it was endless. We couldn’t find the source of the corruption. Still haven’t. I had my chance to help and contribute to this effort, but I stepped back and walked away. My sword master, Sir Callum, continued to fight. I didn’t even know that he had died along with the other masters from the Sword Temple. I don’t even know where he died or how. He was more brave than I.”
Elias sighed the weight of his past choices and the loss of his father and sword master heavy on his shoulders. Thompson could see the conflict in his eyes, the regret mixed with determination.
"You can't blame yourself for the choices you made in the past," Thompson said gently. "We all have our reasons for doing what we do. Your father believed in the sword as a tool for defense, not war, and you've carried on his legacy in your own way. As for Sir Callum, he made his choice to continue the fight, just as you made yours to step back. Neither choice is inherently wrong. What matters now is the present. We have choices and actions to make now. They matter to people now."
Thompson placed a reassuring hand on Elias's shoulder. “I for one am glad to be where I am now. To be here to help Alice and you. This is where I can make a difference and change things for the better.”
Elias nodded, appreciating Thompson's words of comfort and encouragement. The fire crackled softly in the campsite, casting dancing shadows on the trees surrounding them. The night was tranquil, and the chirping of crickets provided a soothing soundtrack to their conversation.
“What do you think you will do once this is all over? When you move on from this war,” asked Thompson.
Elias gazed into the fire, his eyes reflecting its flickering light. He seemed to ponder Thompson's question, weighing his words carefully before speaking. "I don't know," he finally admitted, his voice low and thoughtful. "This... all of this," he gestured around them, "it used to be my life for so long. But I think... I think I will return home. Visiting the capital reminded me of why I never stayed in Easthaven for too long. I might still keep up with my swordsmanship. It was rough getting my mind and body back into the way of things. Maybe I will pick up some new hobbies.”
Thompson nodded, understanding the sentiment. "A place to heal and maybe to forget, even if just a little," he said.
Elias smiled faintly. "Exactly. A place to plant something new, maybe trees or flowers... something that grows without the need for battles and blood."
The conversation then shifted as Thompson shared his own aspirations. "As for me, I've always been drawn to the pursuit of knowledge. When I was younger, I spent more time with books than with swords or bows. There's a part of me that longs to return to that. To write, to study, and maybe even teach. The experiences we've had, the things we've seen... they've given me a perspective that I think could be valuable. Sharing that, helping others understand the world and its complexities, might be my way of contributing to a better future."
Elias nodded, a look of respect in his eyes. "That sounds like a noble pursuit, Thompson. The world will always need more wisdom, especially after everything that's happened." He paused for a minute as they sat in silence. “I noticed at the capital the exchanges brought between your father, lord Tiberius, and Lord Cedric. It was never my forte to understand the politics there. Have their rivalries been a recent thing or was it always the case?”
Thompson sighed. "It's a story that goes back many years," Thompson began, his gaze shifting from the fire to the starry sky above. "Their rivalry started early in my father's life, a competition born out of youthful pride and ambition. My father and Lord Cedric were once close, believe it or not. They trained together and learned the ways of leadership and strategy as young men. But as they grew older, their paths diverged."
"Their competition was simple and childish at first, but it escalated as they assumed their respective roles. My father inherited the trade routes and economic responsibilities, and Lord Cedric managed vast farmlands and agricultural resources. Their differing approaches to leadership and governance only fueled the rivalry."
"When the war came, it changed everything. The war wasn't just a backdrop to their competition; it became a catalyst that transformed it into something more bitter and personal. Lord Tiberius lost significant trade routes and income streams due to the conflict, while Cedric's lands suffered greatly, losing large portions of his fertile fields."
Thompson paused, his expression turning more solemn. "The war not only devastated the land and people but also deepened the rift between my father and Lord Cedric. What once might have been reconciled became irreparable. Each loss, each setback was felt deeply and personally."
Elias, listening intently, nodded in understanding. "That kind of rivalry, fueled by pride and loss, can be destructive. It's a sad thing when old friends become bitter enemies."
"Yes, and unfortunately, their rivalry didn't just affect them; it impacted those around them, including their families. I grew up in the shadow of this feud, competing with Lord Cedric's son in everything from academics to martial skills. It felt like our fathers' rivalry was passed down to us, an inheritance neither of us asked for but couldn't escape."
"It's a heavy burden to carry, the legacies of our parents. We try to forge our paths, but their shadows often loom large over us."
Thompson nodded in agreement. "That's true, Elias. But I believe we have the power to break free from those shadows, to choose our paths based on our values and beliefs, not just on what we've inherited from our forebears. Our journey here, fighting against the corruption, is proof of that. We're defining ourselves, not just as sons and daughters of our parents but as individuals."
The two men sat in silence for a while, each lost in their thoughts about the future. The fire continued to crackle, its warm glow a stark contrast to the cold darkness of the world around them Fatigue began to settle in, and Elias yawned, feeling the weight of the day's events. Thompson noticed and stood up, stretching his limbs.
"It's getting late," Thompson said, stifling a yawn of his own. "We should get some rest. Tomorrow is a new day, and we have much to do."
Elias nodded in agreement and started preparing their sleeping arrangements. They laid out their bedrolls near the campfire, taking comfort in the warmth it provided against the cool night air. Thompson waited outside still on watch for the night.