Chapter 6: Coping in Green Arbor.

The atmosphere inside the community hall was suffocating, a thick cloud of tension and sorrow hanging over the gathered crowd. The worn wooden floors, normally creaking with the bustle of a lively village, now groaned under the weight of anxious bodies shifting in their seats. The dim glow of lanterns barely pierced the heavy air, casting long shadows on faces etched with worry and grief.

Miko stood at the front, gripping the podium as though it were the only thing anchoring him. His heart felt heavy, the weight of responsibility and personal loss pressing down on him. The hall was filled with familiar faces—faces he had fought alongside during the Siege of Green Arbor, faces who now looked to him for answers he didn’t have. Banners from past festivals hung in stark contrast to the somber gathering, fluttering lightly in the rafters, a reminder of better days.

As he adjusted the microphone, the low murmur of conversation fell away, replaced by an uneasy silence. The crowd’s anticipation was palpable, the air thick with the weight of unspoken fears. Miko took a deep breath, his voice shaking slightly as he began.

"Good evening," he said, his voice soft but carrying across the hall. His gaze swept the room, taking in the familiar faces of villagers who had become like family. "We gather tonight under a cloud of uncertainty. Rumors have reached us... rumors of a tragedy that may have befallen our friends, our protectors, Ava and Talon."

The mention of their names sent a ripple of shock through the hall, a wave of hushed gasps and urgent whispers. Miko could see the fear in their eyes, the way their bodies tensed at the mere suggestion that two of their strongest might be gone.

"Are they dead?" a voice broke through the crowd, sharp and raw with desperation. The question hung in the air, thick and suffocating.

Miko swallowed hard, his throat tightening as he looked down at the podium. He wished he had a different answer. "We don’t have confirmation," he said quietly, his voice tinged with the same grief that was mirrored in the faces before him. "But the reports... they’re not promising. There was an ambush, a fierce firefight. Their convoy was hit hard. And now... they’re missing."

The word echoed in the room like a death knell. Missing. Not dead, not alive—just missing, hanging in limbo.

"How can we believe this without proof? We need answers!" A tall man in the back stood up, his voice carrying across the room, filled with frustration and fear. His fists were clenched, his face red with anger, grief barely held in check.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Miko’s heart ached, understanding the man’s pain all too well. "We all need answers," he said, his voice cracking under the weight of his own sorrow. "My daughter needs answers. Jess, who sits with little Ava every night, needs answers. But right now, all we have is hope."

He paused, letting his words sink in. "So tonight, let’s light a candle for them. Let’s hold on to hope that Ava and Talon are still out there, fighting their way back to us. They’ve faced impossible odds before. If anyone can make it, it’s them."

A murmur spread through the crowd, not of panic this time, but of quiet resolution. Miko’s words struck a chord, reminding them of Ava and Talon’s strength, their will to survive. Slowly, the villagers began to nod, their spirits lifting ever so slightly as they clung to that flicker of hope.

Miko continued, his voice steady now. "I know this is hard. I know how much Ava and Talon mean to each of us. They fought for us during the Siege. They stood between us and death when Green Arbor was on the brink. We can’t forget that. We owe it to them to stay strong, to keep this village safe."

He looked out over the crowd, his gaze finding Eli, who sat near the back, his face pale and his hands trembling. Eli had barely spoken since the news arrived. Miko knew the weight that Eli carried—the silent, agonizing fear that the woman he loved might never return.

"Eli," Miko said gently, drawing the young man’s gaze. "We’re all with you. I know you’re carrying more than your share of grief, but you’re not alone in this. None of us are."

Eli nodded, swallowing hard as he blinked back tears. He wanted to believe that Ava was still out there, that she was fighting to come back to him. But the uncertainty gnawed at him, threatening to pull him under.

As the meeting came to a close, Miko’s final words lingered in the air. "We’ll keep searching for answers. And until then, we’ll hold onto hope. That’s what Ava and Talon would want us to do."

The villagers slowly rose from their seats, their faces still etched with grief, but now mixed with determination. They filed out into the cool night air, the village quiet under the weight of shared sorrow.

Jess approached Miko, her eyes red from holding back tears. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. "That was brave," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You said exactly what they needed to hear."

Miko sighed, his hands shaking as he returned the embrace. "I just hope it’s enough," he whispered back. "I just hope they’re still out there."

Jess stepped back, her hand resting on Miko’s arm. "We have to believe they are," she said firmly, her voice stronger now. "We have to believe in them. Ava and Talon wouldn’t give up on us, so we won’t give up on them."

As they stood in the cool night, the faint rustling of leaves filling the silence, Miko caught sight of Eli standing alone by the steps of the hall, his head bowed. Jess squeezed Miko’s hand before walking over to Eli, her presence a quiet comfort in the darkness.

The villagers might be grieving, but their hearts were still beating with hope. And as long as hope remained, Green Arbor would stand strong.