Kael stirred awake to the soft hum of voices. His body felt heavy, but the ache that had plagued him the night before was dulled, replaced by a strange sense of calm. He opened his eyes to see faint rays of sunlight filtering through the annex window, casting a golden glow over the small room. Around his bed, the remnants of withered vines had pierced through the wooden floorboards, leaving jagged cracks and small splinters of wood scattered around.
Near the door, Elira and Felix stood talking in hushed tones. Felix leaned against the frame, his posture tense but his voice low enough that Kael couldn’t catch every word.
“…not just about him,” Felix muttered, glancing briefly in Kael’s direction. “The village needs answers.”
“I know,” Elira replied, her tone sharp but quiet. “But blaming him isn’t going to solve anything. He’s the only reason we’re still standing.”
Felix shrugged, pushing himself upright. “Your father’s calling everyone to the town hall this afternoon. They’ll want to talk about the bandits and… him.”
Kael sat up slowly, drawing their attention. Felix’s eyes narrowed slightly, but Elira stepped forward, placing a hand on Kael’s shoulder to ease him back. “You shouldn’t be moving too much yet,” she said firmly.
“I’m fine,” Kael replied, his voice steady despite the lingering fatigue. “What’s this about a meeting?”
Felix crossed his arms. “The villagers are scared. They want to know what we’re up against, and they’re not exactly thrilled about you showing up out of nowhere.”
“Good to know I’m popular,” Kael replied dryly.
Felix gave him a pointed look before heading for the door. “Just be ready.” With that, he left, leaving Kael and Elira alone.
Elira sighed, sinking into the chair near the bed. “Don’t take him personally. Felix has always been… passionate.”
Kael smirked faintly. “Passionate is one word for it.”
Elira chuckled despite herself, her gaze drifting to the damaged floor. “Looks like I have some repair work to do,” she muttered, gesturing to the splintered wood and the deep cracks left by the vines. “Those things were helpful, but they don’t exactly leave things pristine.”
“I’ll help,” Kael offered, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Elira raised an eyebrow, but he met her gaze evenly. “I need to move. Besides, I want to see the village.”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
She hesitated, then nodded. “Fine. Just don’t overdo it.”
----------------------------------------
Kael stepped out of the annex, stretching his limbs as the sunlight warmed his skin. The village was already bustling, with villagers clearing debris and repairing the damage left by the bandits. Women carried buckets of water to douse lingering embers, while men worked to rebuild fences and patch roofs.
A small group of children played near the edge of the square, their laughter a stark contrast to the grim expressions of the adults around them. Kael’s eyes scanned the scene, taking in the resourcefulness of the villagers despite their limited means.
“Morning, stranger,” an older man called out as he passed, hauling a bundle of firewood on his back. His tone was cautious but not unkind.
“Morning,” Kael replied with a nod. He continued walking, noting the scars left by the attack—the charred ground, shattered beams, and the occasional bloodstain that hadn’t yet been washed away. Despite the destruction, there was an air of determination in the way the villagers moved, a quiet resilience that reminded Kael of his own people.
On the outskirts of the village, Kael found Felix practicing with a sword. His swings were wild and heavy, lacking precision but brimming with frustration. A crude wooden shield rested against a tree nearby, its surface already battered from use.
Kael leaned against the tree, watching silently for a moment before speaking. “You’re not going to win any battles swinging like that.”
Felix spun around, his face flushed with effort and irritation. “What do you know? You’re not even from here.”
Kael remained calm, stepping closer. “You’re angry because you weren’t there yesterday. But rushing in half-cocked won’t solve anything.”
Felix glared at him, his frustration boiling over. “You don’t know what it’s like to live here, to feel useless while others suffer!”
Kael watched him for a moment before nodding. “You’re right. I don’t know. But I do know this—if you want to protect this village, you need to be smarter. Strength is useless without strategy.”
Felix didn’t reply, his grip tightening on the sword. He turned back to his practice, his movements more aggressive than before. Kael shook his head and left him to it.
----------------------------------------
The sun hung low in the sky as the villagers gathered inside the small, wooden town hall. Elira’s father, the village leader, stood at the front alongside the elder, their expressions grave. The dim light from the oil lamps cast flickering shadows on the walls as the room filled with quiet murmurs. Kael and Elira arrived and found a spot near the back, avoiding the questioning looks of the other villagers.
The meeting began with a discussion of the bandits and the recent attack. Some villagers expressed gratitude for Kael’s efforts, while others voiced concerns about his presence. The elder called for calm, her voice steady as she reminded them of the greater threat they faced.
“We cannot afford division,” she said firmly. “The bandits will return, and we must stand together.”
As the discussion turned to strategies for defense, Elira’s gaze darted around the room. Her brow furrowed. “Where’s Felix?”
Her father looked puzzled, scanning the gathered villagers. “He should be here. He knew about the meeting.”
Kael’s eyes narrowed. “He’s not the type to miss something like this.”
Elira’s expression darkened with realization. “He’s impulsive enough to try something on his own.”
Kael cursed under his breath. “He’s gone after the bandits.”
The room erupted into alarmed whispers as Elira grabbed Kael’s arm. “We have to find him. If he’s gone after them alone…”