Chapter 5: Echoes of the Past
Back at the farm, the day passed without incident. The sun was high by the time we returned to the cabin, and the fresh forest air had calmed the children. Clara and Lucas ran to their mother, excited to tell her everything they had seen in the woods. I lingered by the door, watching Elena’s face light up with a smile as she welcomed them.
Hasar was hunched over his workbench outside, carving wood with precise strokes. The scene exuded a serenity that, in earlier times, would have relaxed me. But today, the wind carried an unease I couldn’t shake—like a distant echo of darker times. His hands, strong yet delicate, moved over the wood with practiced ease. He wasn’t in a hurry; every motion was deliberate, as though time itself didn’t matter.
I walked over quietly, watching Hasar as he worked. Each movement was methodical, every cut purposeful. That was always how he’d been: calm and exact, even in the most critical moments. I, on the other hand, was the opposite—constantly searching for the next challenge, always anticipating the next strike.
“What’s weighing on your mind?” Hasar asked without looking up. He could read me better than anyone.
“I felt something in the woods,” I replied, crossing my arms as I stared out into the distance. “Something’s not right.”
Hasar paused, setting the piece of wood aside before lifting his eyes to meet mine. His gaze, steady and unwavering, was the same look he’d had in the heat of battle. He wasn’t one to worry prematurely, but he knew I didn’t speak lightly.
“What do you think it is?” he asked, more curious than concerned.
“I don’t know. It’s just a feeling... but something’s moving. Something beyond what we can see or control,” I said, my voice steady, though the unease still rippled beneath the surface.
Hasar sighed softly, leaning against the table, his gaze drifting toward the horizon. Several seconds passed before he spoke again.
“Sometimes, echoes from the past follow us, even when we try to leave them behind. But this place, Darius, it’s at peace. There’s no room here for those shadows.”
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“That’s what I fear—that this peace is just a brief pause before the inevitable. The world’s changing, Hasar. I’m not the only one who feels it,” I said, my tone darker.
Hasar’s calm gaze never faltered, but I could see my words had landed. We’d both seen too many times how calm often preceded the storm. And deep down, he understood what I was feeling. It was inevitable.
“I believe you,” he finally said. “But if that danger comes, we’ll face it like we always have. There’s no need to worry Elena and the children before we have to.”
I nodded in silence, though the feeling of unease still churned inside me. I knew he was right. We couldn’t live in constant fear. But my instincts had never failed me, and the sense that something dark was approaching was too strong to ignore.
The afternoon passed in a deceptive calm. I joined Hasar in the farm’s daily work, trying to lose myself in the labor as we chopped wood and repaired fences. The physical exertion, though tiring, was a welcome distraction. But even in the midst of the toil, my thoughts kept circling back to what I had sensed in the woods.
When the sun began to set, we gathered for dinner. Elena had prepared a stew of fresh vegetables with some meat, and the children sat at the table, eager to share more stories from the day. I tried to focus on the conversation, on the laughter that filled the cabin, but my mind remained troubled by that lingering feeling.
“Darius, are you all right?” Elena asked, noticing my distraction.
“Yes, just thinking about tomorrow’s work,” I lied with a smile, hoping to put her at ease.
Hasar gave me a quick look. He knew it was a small lie, but I was grateful that he didn’t call me out on it. After dinner, the children went to bed, exhausted from the day’s excitement. Elena retired early as well, leaving Hasar and me outside under a sky full of stars.
“You can’t stay restless forever,” Hasar said, breaking the silence. “I know you sense something, but sometimes you just have to trust that what we’ve built here is strong enough. This place is protected, Darius. It’s not like it was before.”
“The world has changed, Hasar. You know it. I’ve seen how cracks in the peace are widening faster and faster. We can’t escape what’s coming,” I replied, my voice echoing the storm I could feel gathering on the horizon.
Hasar looked at me in silence, his eyes filled with a mix of understanding and resignation. He knew I was right, but he also understood the need to protect the fragile bubble of peace he had created for his family.
“Tomorrow, I’m heading to the border,” I said, breaking the stillness of the night. “There are things I need to check. Besides, I’ve stayed here too long. I need to return to my post soon.”
The wind picked up again, carrying with it that familiar sense of looming danger. Hasar said nothing, only nodding slightly as the stars flickered overhead.