Chapter 2: The Village.

In the middle of a forest about a few miles from the Temple, the draconic deity found freedom once again, where four souls lost something valuable, two lost their lives, and two more lost the loved ones they depended on and resided in that village again after the attack almost killed them. The village was never the same after the invasion many summers ago. This remote village seldom saw any kind of beast or bandit attack.

So when one did finally strike, it shook the villagers to their core. A new militia training regime was implemented, and every male had to participate within a particular age group. Even the women were encouraged to participate. Ready to defend their family from future threats. Most of the younger surviving members joined eagerly, the memories of the attack fresh in their minds months later.

Their combat instructor was a recent addition to the village. Brought to the village by the siblings whose parents went missing. He was often spotted on the village outskirts simply sitting cross-legged, breathing. Many villagers often said he called the wind, and the wind answered.

He had this odd habit of talking to himself when he thought no one was listening. Even weirder to the villagers, though, was that sometimes… The wind seemed to respond. Sometimes, a breeze would occur right after he finished a sentence, and he would chuckle.

Some of the more perceptive villagers, often hunters, would also swear they heard a young woman’s voice laughing in the wind. This became a widespread debate in the small tavern at the village's center, where the village's men and women would gather after a day's work.

Next to the tavern was a bakery run by a small family of two. A father and his daughter, the mother, died in the same attack months ago. Despite this loss, the Bakers family appeared solid and healthy; the family bonds were more robust than ever.

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The father often baked throughout the day, leaving the daughter to tend to the counter and prepare orders for the other villagers in the morning.

“Morning Emily!” a feminine voice rings in Emily’s ear. A smile was beginning to emerge. “Yes, it is Cora! How is Ruren?” Cora runs to the bakery counter and replies,” Ruren is okay, a bit mean lately. I think it is because he is stuck in training. Virtus says he needs practice now. But Ruren’s impatient.” Emily giggles. “Ruren? Impatient? I would expect that from you, Cora… I remember you burnt your mouth before the harvest feast and couldn't talk to anyone! Yet refused to see the herbalist!” Emily finished, shoulders shaking with mirth.

Cora sulks. “Are you ever going to let me forget about that? It’s embarrassing! Our bread, please.” She finishes, placing a couple of coppers on the countertop. Smiling, Emily takes the coppers and turns, grabbing their order from the shelf. Passing her the basket of bread. “Thanks, Emily! See you next time!” Cora states as she turns around and leaves the bakery. Turning to the right, she heads back towards her and Rurens' cottage.

Ruren sits in a lotus position, hands resting on his kneecaps. Breathing in and out in the front room of the small cottage he and his sister inherited from their parents. In and out, he breathes deliberately and slowly. After a few cycles, he breathes in one last time. Opening his eye, he stares at the front door. A few moments later, Cora walks into the cottage. “The bread is here! We can have bread with our stew!” Cora looks hungrily at the pot hanging over the stone hearth on the other side of the room. Ruren standing up, heads towards the counters connected to the hearth. Grabbing three bowls and spoons fills the bowls and heads to a table in another part of the open room. Setting the bowls down, he gestures to Cora to sit. Sitting at the table, the two wait. Not much longer passes when the front door opens a second time. This time a tall man walks into the room with Violet's hair and eyes and a vertical pupil similar to a snake's. The man looks around the room and sighs. “You two don’t have to wait on me to eat. We have been over this.” Ruren smiles as if he expected this response, saying, “We eat together, as we always have.” Cora nods her head sullenly and mumbles, “Always.” The man leans a quarter-staff against the corner next to the door. The staff is ornately carved, dragon heads facing opposite directions amethysts inset into where eyes would be expected. He proceeds to sit at the table with the siblings, and they begin to eat.