Fifteen years ago, south of Thaeria’s capital, there was a small village that served as a waypoint for soldiers heading to the Wyvern border. The village had simple farmlands and a river where the locals fished for food. Its population was so small that everyone knew each other by name, there were only seven children in the village, two girls and five boys. Of those seven, only four had family names. The children of this village, like most villages closer to the borders- were all more mature than most.

These are the last three days of that village. One since forgotten by most.

Day 1

One day, while wandering the forest, the children decided to venture deeper than they usually do. The usual spots were empty, and frustration drove them onward.

Phin led the way, moving quickly to put distance between himself and the others. He knew they’d follow, Erin always found him.

"You’re scaring away all the animals!" he shouted, turning around to face them. "I won’t be able to bring anything back to Dad if you keep following me around!"

The group halted abruptly. Erin, as always, would speak first.

"But we want to help!" she insisted, crossing her arms. "Why do you always have to run off by yourself?"

Hans stepped forward, his usual grin on his face. "Yeah! Everyone’s taking a day's rest two days early back in the village. You’re the only one doing something useful, so why not let us help? I’m strong so I can carry anything you catch!"

Phin sighed. "I don’t need help!" he shouted. "And Hans, you’ll probably trip and flatten everything, you’re too clumsy! Same applies to you Sara! You’re wearing expensive clothes, your dad will yell at me if you get dirty following me!"

Hans scratched the back of his head, chuckling. "I wouldn’t ruin everything, just a little bit!."

Sara folded her arms “It’s not like it’s muddy today!” she declared, stepping forward. She was wearing a set of very expensive clothes crafted from fine cloth. Her father had only recently brought it from the capital during a short term visit to renew his ownership of the village land. "Besides, my father won’t care if I get dirty! I told him I was going to help today and he was okay with it!"

Phin glared at her. "Your dad definitely will care! He’s already got half the village scared stiff after you cut yourself making a mess in Dads cabin! I don’t need him yelling at me because you tripped over a root and ruined your fancy clothes."

Kael, who had been silent up to this point, leaned against a tree, watching the exchange with quiet amusement. "If as a group we’re scaring the animals away, why not split up?" he suggested. "We’ll cover more ground, make less noise and you can go off alone if you want. We’ll regroup here in an hour."

Erin turned to Kael instantly. "No way. He’s not sneaking off again!" She glared back at her brother. "I’m sticking with you, even if you’re a grump."

Zavier waved his wooden sword around excitedly. "I’ll take the south side! Maybe I’ll find a monster to fight!"

Callan scoffed, puffing out his chest in pride. "A monster? Zavier, If there’s a monster, I’ll handle it. I’m way stronger than you."

Zavier pointed his sword at Callan, grinning. "Yeah, but I’m faster than you’ll ever be!"

Phin groaned, waving his hands in the air, having given up on being alone for the day. "Fine! Erin, you can follow me but stay quiet! One word and I’ll tell mom you snuck out with me again! Everyone else, just don’t get lost. I won’t look for you!" he shouted.

The children split into groups. Phin and Erin went together, Callan and Zavier ran off wanting to compete, meanwhile Sara, Kael, and Hans formed the final group since only Hans was left in terms of fighting in case a weak monster showed up. The day went on with little success. Phin grew agitated.

Hours later

Carrying a tired Erin on his back, Phin sighed heavily. "I’m gonna get back empty-handed… Dad’s gonna be disappointed."

Erin yawned, lazily patting his head. "There, there… Dad won’t be mad... You’re not gonna tell Mom I followed you, right?" she asked nervously, her voice soft.

Phin shook his head. "No. I promised I wouldn’t if you kept quiet, and I guess you did..." he muttered, his tone filled with annoyance as well as a degree of fondness.

Suddenly, a heavy thump echoed from the left. It wasn’t a sound you’d have expected to hear in a forest. Phin’s eyes focused towards it as he gently set Erin down. "Go back to the meeting spot" he whispered. "Get the others and head to the village." Whatever it was, it was approaching.

Erin’s eyes widened. "What about you?"

Phin glanced back at her. "Whatever it is, it’s already noticed us. One of us has to keep it away from the village while the other gets help. I've mapped out the forest while we were hunting today so I can run in circles for a while. If you can get Hans’ dad, he’ll be able to handle it. I’ll lure it into one of the traps in the meantime."

"But-" she tried speaking, only to be cut off.

"NOW!" Phin’s sharp command propelled Erin into action, fear driving her legs as she sprinted away.

Standing ready and grabbing his hunting knife from his hip, Phin turned to face the approaching danger, ready to lead it toward the trap, but when the figure emerged from the depths of the forest, Phin panicked as he laid eyes upon the creature, his breathing stopping for a moment. A massive warhammer swung down but stopped just before striking.

"Shit, yer’ just a kid!" The rough, hoarse voice said."What the hell’re ya’ doing out here?!"

Phin fell backwards, dropping his knife. His eyes widened at the sight of the creature- A Wyvern, one with black scales wearing faux leather-steel armour. A deep gash on the side of the Wyvern’s head, a metallic blue liquid trickling down.

Panicking, Phin reached for his crossbow, aiming it at the Wyvern. The Wyvern surprisingly didn’t react in any hostile manner, instead crouching slightly, raising its hand.

"Relax kid" the Wyvern spoke as softly as his voice allowed him. "Yer’ not supposed to point those at people.” He’d turn his head as he listened to the surrounding area. “And keep quiet or you’ll have us both killed."

Phin felt like his heart was about to stop, this was the first time he’d seen a Wyvern. "W-what?" he stammered.

"I ain’t gonna hurt ya" the Wyvern said, his tone softer now. "Name’s Krevac. What’s yers’?"

"P-Phin" he answered, voice trembling.

Krevac nodded. "A’ight, Phin, listen up. There're Demons nearby, a lot of em'. We gotta stay quiet. Ya’ don’t need to worry, I’m not yer’ enemy. I ain’t the kinda person to hurt a kid."

Phin stared, still aiming the crossbow at Krevac. "Demons?"

"Yeah" Krevac muttered, glancing around with caution. "So, what’s a kid doing all the way out here?”

Phin’s grip tightened on his crossbow as he stared up at the imposing figure of Krevac. His mind raced, barely able to form a coherent thought.

"I-I was hunting" he stammered, his voice barely even a whisper. "Trying to help my parents."

Krevac tilted his head, his reptilian eyes narrowing. Despite the tension in the air, his tone softened slightly, though his towering frame still radiated an air of command.

"Hunting at yer’ age, huh? Brave kid. Hey, tell me..." he said, his gaze darting toward where Erin had disappeared "how far’s your village? And who was the girl you were with?"

Phin hesitated, swallowing. His village was too close for comfort. They were further out than normal but that didn’t mean it was extremely far away and to top it off,  he didn’t trust this Wyvern enough to reveal its location. Trembling as he stood up and avoided eye contact.

"She’s my sister" he mumbled nervously.

Krevac’s expression grew weary, it felt like he was being watched.

"If she’s alone out there and Demons are runnin’ around-"

Before he could finish, a sharp whistle cut through the air. Krevac’s eyes widened as a spear hurtled toward them. It barely missed him as he ducked, the spear embedding itself with a solid thunk into a nearby tree. Krevac’s clawed hand closed tightly around Phin’s arm, dragging him behind cover.

"Stay quiet" Krevac whispered, his tone harsh. His sharp gaze turned to where the spear originated from.

Emerging from the shadows was a Demon, its skin an ashen gray, with four muscular arms that moved with extreme coordination, keeping branches out of the way. Two of its hands held jagged blades, while another clutched a second spear. Expressing a twisted grin, its bright yellow eyes gleaming with a predator's curiosity.

"Would you look at that?" it spoke, its voice raspy and sharp. "Little lizard didn’t run very far did he? Using a kid as a shield are you?"

Krevac shouted back with a provoking comment. “Havin’ to look at that ugly mug o’ yers’ really tires a guy out ya’ know? Had to run off to get it outta my sight!"

The Demon laughed, its grin widening to show too many sharp teeth. "They say you’ve got a filthy mouth, is that all you got? Mighty Warrior of The Night?" It reached its empty palm forward as the spear it threw prior returned with blinding speed. Krevac added a final comment. “Ya' got the wrong Wyvern, that'd be my brother!”

Krevac shoved Phin further behind the tree as the Demon raised the other spear. The weapon flew, slicing through the air. Krevac ducked just in time, the spear grazing his shoulder before burying itself in the dirt. This one didn’t seem enchanted to return.

"Kid, any suggestions? Ya’ mentioned traps didn’t ya?!" Krevac barked, his voice tense.

Phin’s mind raced, his eyes darting around the forest trying to get his thoughts straight. This situation had escalated fast. Then he remembered. "There’s one up ahead! North, past the big castel trees!" he pointed.

Krevac nodded, his eyes pointed in that direction. "Good. Lead the way. I’ll keep the freak of yer' back."

Phin took off, making his way through the trees with Krevac close behind him. The Demon gave chase, its four arms allowing it to leap and break through dense areas with ease. Phin could hear its mocking taunts towards Krevac grow louder as it closed the gap.

"You sure like to run! But you’re running on fumes! I’ve got a lot left in the tank!”

Krevac was using his large body to shield Phin from the Demon’s blades, thinking if he gave in- Phin would be dead. He was taking hits left and right. Each strike caused wounds that penetrated his scales. Phin’s lungs felt on fire as he pushed himself forward. He runs a lot but this was different… and strangely exciting. Finally, he spotted the marker he and Erin had left, a strip of fabric tied to a low-hanging branch.

"It’s here!" he shouted as he dropped into a sliding motion, moving right under the tripwire they’d set.

Krevac lunged forward, setting his wings free as he leaped into the air avoiding the tripwire. Landing just in front, as he spun around to face the Demon, retracting his wings as the Demon crashed through the trees after them. The moment it hit the tripwire, the trap activated. From its side, a sharpened stump akin to an oversized spear swung down, its spike catching the Demon’s sides and slamming it against a tree. It let out a furious shout. “What the hell?! A non-magic trap?!” Blood dripping from his mouth as he spoke.

"Ya’ Demons gloat about that strong skin… Yer’ not so tough once ya’ get a dent in though are ya’?” Krevac smirked, advancing towards the Demon slowly. He glanced back at Phin, his tone firm. "Turn around, kid. Yer’ too young to see this."

Phin hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest, before slowly turning his back. The sound of Krevac’s warhammer dropping was followed by the sound of mush… and then silence.

"There, ya’ can look now." Krevac said, his voice quieter now. Phin turned back to see the Wyvern crouched near the Demon, having placed a cloth over its crushed head. He grabbed the spear it had thrown earlier with the return enchantment. Krevac stood up and approached Phin, patting his head.

"Not a bad one, kid. I’d’ve been a jam if I got caught in that.” Krevac muttered jokingly. "Now let’s go find yer’ sister before she runs into one o’ those by herself." Phin nodded, he was still nervous but… Krevac seemed nice enough.

Three hours earlier, when the group had only just split up.

Callan and Zavier strolled through the forest, their wooden swords balanced on their shoulders, surveying the area for anything worthy to brag about. At this point they didn’t care if it was a monster or an animal.

Callan kicked a loose rock, watching it roll across the path before looking at Zavier. "You think Phin would’ve done better if we hadn’t tagged along today?" His tone was uncertain, it was rare for him to ask if he’d made something worse. "He’s always looking out for us back in the village. I thought it’d be nice to return the favor for once, y’know? Like, actually help him instead of just getting in the way."

Zavier grinned, spinning his sword in an exaggerated way. "Nah, don’t beat yourself up. It’s probably just a bad day for hunting." he jabbed his thumb toward himself with an exaggerated smirk "if we find something big, like a wolf, or maybe even a bear- he’ll see we’re not just playing around. We’d be heroes!" Zavier would laugh as he spoke

Callan rolled his eyes before smiling. "You’re too unserious, you know that?"

Zavier chuckled. "Hey, speak for yourself! I’m being serious! I’ll run circles around that bear and beat it that way!"

Callan laughed, but the playful tone shifted as he kicked at another rock. "You think the rumors are true about him moving to the capital?"

Zavier paused, his usual lightheartedness giving way to a thoughtful expression. He planted his sword in the ground, leaning on it as he spoke. "Maybe. His mom’s an amazing tailor. If the capital wants her, it’s not like they can say no. But even if he leaves-" He stood tall again, his grin returning, no room for uncertainty. "We’ll still be friends you know?"

Callan titled his head looking towards Zavier. "You really think so? Even if Phin’s busy with new stuff out there? He might even join the army before us."

Zavier slung his arm around Callan’s shoulders, pulling him in. "I know so! We’re too cool to lose touch with! And he’d obviously come back to visit. You think he could resist us? Not a chance! Besides, adventurers are way cooler!"

Callan chuckled, shaking his head. "You really are too unserious. But… yeah, Phin’s stuck with us whether he likes it or not!"

Zavier grinned, spinning his sword. "That’s the spirit! Now, c’mon. Let’s find something big enough to make him treat us like heroes!"

Their laughter echoed through the forest as they pressed on, the playful banter lifting their spirits even as the woods grew denser around them.

Back to present…

At the meeting spot, Hans, Sara, and Kael stood anxiously. It didn’t take long before Callan and Zavier emerged from the woods, their wooden swords resting on their shoulders. Their expressions brightened momentarily before they realized Phin and Erin weren’t with them.

Sara crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. "You two are late! Just like Phin and Erin! Do you have any idea how worried we’ve been?" Her voice was sharp, but a hint of concern showed.

Callan instantly scanned the area. "Wait, they’re not here yet? That’s… weird." He exchanged a worried glance with Zavier. "Where are they?"

*Hans frowned deeply, his usually calm demeanor cracking slightly. "You two being late is one thing but Phin being late isn’t normal. We should get my dad. If something happened-"

Sara cut him off abruptly, her face turning pale as she waved her hands frantically. "No! No way! I lied! I didn’t get permission! If your dad talks to mine about it, I’m dead! He’ll never let me leave the house again! He thinks I’m getting flowers for my room!"

Kael sighed heavily, rubbing his temple. "Fine, but we need a plan.” He placed his fingers on his chin for a moment “Sara and I head back to the village. We pretend we’ve been hanging out all day picking flowers, so we have to grab a handful on the way back so nobody finds out.” He glanced at Hans. “Hans, you go get your dad. Callan and Zavier, you stay here and wait for-"

Before he could finish, a rustling sound erupted from the forest, and Erin stumbled into the location, her face pale, as she caught her breath.

She leaned forward, placing her hands on her knees as she gasped out "Phin’s fighting a monster!"

Callan and Zavier’s faces lit up instantly, their earlier worry replaced by an almost reckless excitement.

Zavier practically shouted "A monster?! Where?! Show us!" He tightened his grip on his wooden sword, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Kael pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly annoyed. "Great. So Phin’s stuck with a monster, and we can’t even get the adults involved because you couldn’t just ask for permission." His tone was dry as he shot Sara a pointed look.

Sara glared back defensively. "He wouldn’t have ever agreed okay!"

Erin straightened up, shaking her head frantically. "It’s big, and it’s dangerous!"

Hans stepped forward, his brows furrowed with worry. "That’s not good… where’s Phin now? Is he okay?"

Erin hesitated, looking down at her feet before murmuring "He told me to run and get your dad, but he’s alone."

Hans grimaced, glancing between the group and the woods. "If it’s that bad, and I don’t imagine we can trust those two to stay here… I can’t let Callan and Zavier go after it on their own, I have to come with."

Callan smirked, holding his sword like a knight ready for battle. "Don’t worry, Hans. We’ll take care of it! You just follow us."

Kael threw his hands up in frustration, his face a mask of disbelief. "What’s the point of me coming up with plans if no one listens?! This is a horrible idea!"

Erin then nodded. “I… I’ll show you! I’m too worried to leave him alone with a monster!”

Sara looked torn, but before she could voice an objection, the group was already moving. Hans, Callan, Zavier, and Erin vanished into the trees, leaving Kael and Sara behind.

Kael groaned loudly, running a hand through his hair. "Great. Just great. Now we’re the ones who’ll have to explain this mess if things go wrong."

Sara bit her lip, glancing in the direction they’d gone, before muttering "I just hope they don’t get themselves killed…"

Kael sighed, folding his arms. "If they do, I’m pinning the whole thing on Zavier." Despite his frustration, there was an edge of worry in his voice.

Turning back toward the road leading to the village, Kael gestured for Sara to follow him. “Let’s head back. We’ll come up with a story for Hans’ dad on the way, something that keeps you out of trouble.” he said as he took the first step toward the village.

Sara nodded, her hands clasped tightly behind her back as she followed. Worry spread across her face, her gaze fixed on the ground ahead of her.

A while later, Erin has lead them to where she and Phin parted.

Erin led Callan, Zavier, and Hans to the spot where she had last seen Phin. As they reached the clearing, the scene before them made her heart drop. The area was destroyed, trees splintered and the earth churned as if some great force had torn through. Her breath quickened, panic setting in as her eyes darted around.

“Phin…” she whispered, stuttering. “Where is he?” her voice trembling.

Callan moved forward carefully, scanning the destruction. Something caught his attention partially buried beneath a fallen tree. He sprinted toward it, pulling the object free and holding it up for a closer look. His face lit up momentarily with recognition, but the excitement quickly melted into concern.

“Erin...” Callan’s voice was quiet as he approached. In his hand was the spear. Some form of metallic blue liquid trickling down. “You should go back to the village.”

Erin froze, staring at the weapon in his hand as her fears seemingly became reality… The only positive note was- there was no blood… but what was this scent?

Zavier and Hans exchanged a look, both understanding the implication immediately. Hans spoke first, his voice calm but urgent. “We’ll look for Phin. Erin, You go get my father.”

Zavier stepped closer to Erin, his usual energy subdued. “I’ll go with you, just in case…” he said, trying to sound reassuring despite the knot in his stomach. Truthfully, he wanted to stay and be a hero of some kind.

“No!” Erin protested, her voice shaking. “I can’t leave him! He’s still out here, I’m the only one who-” *unable to finish her sentence as realization set in. Her keen sense of smell usually let her find him without issue, but the only scent present was… blood. *

Callan stepped closer, his tone soft but firm. “Erin, if Phin’s hurt, you also getting hurt is the last thing he’d want. We need someone to get help, and you’re the only one who can do it. Please... trust us.”

Tears welled up in Erin’s eyes as she hesitated, torn between staying and running. Finally, she nodded reluctantly, her voice barely audible, trembling. “Okay… Just- please find him… okay?”

Hans nodded, expression filled with resolve. “We will. Now go, both of you run!”

Zavier gently took Erin by the arm, his wooden sword ready in his other hand. “Let’s go!” he said, his voice steady despite the tension in his expression.

As Erin and Zavier disappeared into the woods, Callan and Hans turned their focus back to the clearing.

“This wasn’t a monster" Callan muttered, gripping the spear tightly.

Hans glanced at him, his expression grim. “Do you know what it is?

Callan responded, his bravery showing now that Erin was gone. “The spear... I think I’ve seen this type of steel before. My parents have this old book about different smithing methods in certain regions and I think the steel used... I think it's from the Demon lands.”

Hans furrowed his brow, glancing at the weapon. “The Demon lands? So this thing we’re tracking... it’s… a Demon?”

Callan shook his head. “Yeah. And if that book was right, this steel isn’t just rare. It’s tough, way tougher than anything we have in the village.” He ran his fingers along the shaft of the spear, his expression grim. “It’s very good craftsmanship though...”

Hans swallowed hard. “Do you think... do you think Phin fought this thing?”

Callan hesitated, his gaze trailing to the blue liquid spattered on the dirt. “I don’t know. I don’t think Phin could…” he’d pause, deciding not to finish the sentence. The two would remain quiet for a while.

They continued along the trail, the trees around them increasingly mangled, as if a monstrous force had torn through the forest. The blue liquid became more frequent, forming a glittering path through the undergrowth.

“What is this stuff?” Hans asked, crouching to touch a small stain. “The same thing was on the spear, some kind of blood?”

Callan stared at the strange liquid, frowning. “It’s… blue… not Human blood.” He glanced at Hans, his voice unsure. “It doesn’t look like anything I’ve seen before… maybe it’s from what attacked Phin? A Demon…”

Their conversation trailed off as they followed the blue trail deeper into the woods. After some time, the path opened into a small clearing, and the two boys froze at the sight before them.

Lying sprawled on the ground was the lifeless body of a Demon. Its four arms were splayed out unnaturally, its torso riddled with wounds, and its skull was crushed, a gory mess of bone and ichor. One of the Demon’s weapons, a jagged blade, laying only a short distance away, its edge stained with the blue liquid.

“...Is that?” Hans started, but his voice faltered. The scene in front was extremely grotesque.

Callan stepped forward cautiously, letting go of the spear. “It’s dead" he said, though his tone carried little relief. “Its head... someone crushed it from the looks of it…?”

Hans scanned the area, his shoulders tense. “No sign of Phin....”

Callan knelt beside the Demon, examining the wounds. His eyes fell on a crude but effective trap, a cluster of spiked branches rigged to an already triggered tension mechanism. The Demon’s torso had been skewered by the trap.

“This has to be one of Phin’s traps" Hans said, crouching to inspect the mechanism.

Callan nodded. “Yeah. He’s the only one I know who could make something like this out here, but it doesn’t explain the head…”

Hans stepped back, shaking his head. “Yeah, Phin couldn’t manage something like that right?”

“I don’t think so" Callan admitted, rising to his feet. “I don’t think either of us could even do this… not even together.”

The two boys exchanged a nervous glance, the weight of the discovery settling heavily between them.

“What do we do?” Hans asked quietly.

“We’ll keep looking." Callan said firmly. “Phin’s out there and we promised Erin.”

Hans nodded.

Before moving on, Callan crouched beside the Demon’s body, glancing at the jagged blade resting near the Demons corpse. The weapon was elegantly designed, its edges gleaming with a faint, dark sheen, covered with the blue liquid. Without hesitation, he reached out and grabbed it, holding and inspecting it.

“Callan, what are you doing?" Hans said, his voice tinged with unease. “Are you sure that’s safe? It could be enchanted.”

Callan stood, swinging the weapon with two hands. It was heavier than he’d expected, though unlike his wooden sword, this one wasn’t made for kids. “I know" he said. “But this could be useful. The village doesn’t have anything like this and… if Demons are getting this close, I think it’d be good if we have something.”

Hans frowned, glancing at the dead Demon again. “Still... carrying something like that feels wrong.”

Callan sighed, gripping the blade tighter. “I’ll just hand it over to dad when I get home. He’ll know what to do with it. For now, it’s better with us than just lying here.”

Hans didn’t look convinced but nodded reluctantly. “Fine…” He’d glance back at the corpse, there was something about grabbing the belongings of a dead guy that seemed… wrong.

Callan’s gaze swept the surrounding trees, his expression determined. “Let’s keep searching, who knows, maybe we’ll be able to defeat a Demon ourselves?” Callan said, not even jokingly.

A while later, as the two were closing in on the village, they heard footsteps, in a moment of panic- Callan would shove the weapons into a nearby bush, realizing his mistake as the figure approached…

The crunch of leaves and branches filled the air as Krevac moved through the forest, carrying Phin effortlessly. Phin, supported on the Wyvern’s back by his arms, clung on tightly.

“Yer’ quiet" Krevac said, his gravelly voice breaking the silence. “Still decidin’ if ya’ can trust me, huh?”

Phin hesitated before answering. “You’re not like Wyverns I’ve heard about...”

Krevac chuckled. “Yeah, well... I ain’t here for trouble. I’m stationed nearby for other reasons.”

“What are you stationed here for?” Phin asked, his curiosity piqued.

“Long story" Krevac replied, it really wasn't a long story but he didn't want to cause any distrust right now. Brushing aside a low-hanging branch as they walked. “Not important right now, gotta find yer’ sister right?. Ya’ said she went toward the village, right?”

Phin nodded. “Yeah. But... if she didn’t make it back...” His voice trailed off, fear creeping in.

Krevac’s tone softened. “She’s probably fine. Ya’ said she’s fast, right? Quicker than you?”

“Yeah" Phin admitted reluctantly.

“With how quick ya’ were runnin’ from that Demon? She wasn’t ever in danger.” Krevac would chuckled, his tone carried an odd reassurance, but it didn’t entirely quell Phin’s worries.

They walked in silence for a while longer before Krevac spoke again. “Look, kid, it’s been a while since ya’ split right? If you tell me where yer’ village is, I can drop ya’ off nearby. Ya’ can get help, and I’ll keep looking for her.”

Phin hesitated. Could he really trust Krevac? The Wyvern had saved his life earlier, but the Demon was probably a higher priority than dealing with some kid… Still, Krevac’s logic made sense… and he didn’t seem bad...

“F-Fine" Phin said at last. “I’ll guide you...”

After a short while, they reached a break in the forest where Phin could recognize familiar landmarks. “This is enough" he said, sliding down from Krevac’s back. “I can walk the rest of the way.” stumbling slightly as his feet hit the ground, still exhausted.

Krevac watched him for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Alright, kid. I’ll keep looking for yer’ sister. If I find her, I’ll bring her back right here too alright?.”

Phin nodded, his voice quiet. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it, woulda been diced up if it weren’t for that trap o’ yers’" Krevac said, turning back toward the forest. “Stay safe, kid. ”

As Krevac disappeared into the trees, Phin stood still for a moment, gripping his crossbow tightly. He wasn’t sure if he could fully trust the Wyvern, but for now, he had no choice but to believe in his words... He had no idea if Erin made it back safely after all… Gathering his courage, he turned and began walking toward the village but it didn’t take long before he paused, looking down as he finally noticed the faint metallic stains on his shirt and pants. His heart sank. The blue liquid was blood from Krevac… he’d taken every hit in the back after all… was he even fine?

Phin pondered, if anyone in the village saw this, it’d raise too many questions, and explaining it would only complicate things… and he felt indebted enough to not mention Krevac. With a deep breath, he extended his hand and murmured the chant under his breath, his voice steady but quiet. “Through change we gain the power to move forward, Water Stream.”

A small stream of water materialized, floating in the air. Phin grabbed a rag from his satchel and dipped it into the water, carefully scrubbing at the stains. The blood came off slowly, but after a few minutes, his clothes were clean enough to avoid suspicion. Though Erin might notice, if she’s even in the village. Tossing the rag into his satchel, he took a deep breath before continuing into the village.

As he entered, Phin’s eyes immediately caught sight of Hans’ father, Daniel. The tall, armored man was walking toward the forest, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Phin felt relieved. Did this mean Erin had made it back?

“Mr. Daniel!” Phin shouted, breaking into a run.

Daniel stopped, turning sharply at the sound of Phin’s voice. His tense expression softened immediately upon seeing him. Relief washed over his face as he waited for Phin to approach.

“Phin! Thank Celestia you’re alright!" Daniel said, letting out a sigh of relief that didn’t last for longer than a moment before asking- “Where’s Hans and Callan?”

Before Phin could respond, a commotion from further into the village drew their attention. Erin, Zavier, Sara, and Kael were rushing toward them, their faces a mixture of relief and worry

Erin in moments threw her arms around Phin, clinging to him in a tight hug “Thank Celestia you’re okay!” she exclaimed, her voice muffled against his shoulder “I was so scared when you disappeared!” One look was enough to tell she’d cried.

Phin stiffened for a moment, caught off guard, before awkwardly patting her on the back “Come on! I’m fine, Erin. You don’t have to get all dramatic!”

Erin pulled back slightly, her eyes narrowing “You’re lucky I care about a grump like you!” she said, almost tearing up all over again.

The others caught up, forming a semi-circle around him. Zavier still clutched his wooden sword like it could somehow fend off anything “Seriously, Phin, you had us thinking you got eaten! If you’d just shouted for help I would’ve come running!" Zavier said, his voice teetering between relief and frustration.

Kael crossed his arms, pretending to have not heard Zaviers overconfidence. “You better start talking! What happened out there?”

Daniel sighed before inquiring further. “You kids calm down, he’s barely getting a chance to speak. Phin, take a breath. I was told there was a monster in the forest, what kind was it?” He’d ask as he crouched down in front of Phin.

Phin hesitated, glancing at Daniel, whose calm but sharp gaze rested on him. He knew he shouldn’t- or rather, couldn’t lie outright, but he didn’t want to tell them about Krevac… He had saved his life after all.

Taking a deep breath, Phin started. “After Erin and I got separated, I stumbled across a Demon…”

Daniels eyes widened. “A Demon?! All the way out here?” his tone failed to hide his growing worry as he looked Phin up and down, checking for injuries. “And you got away unharmed?!”

Before Phin could continue, Zavier shouted with excitement “A Demon?!” He’d grip his wooden sword tighter, unable to contain his excitement. Daniel turned towards him. “Quiet down!” He said before turning back to Phin. “Continue, please.”

“Obviously I couldn’t fight a Demon…" Phin continued, choosing his words carefully “So I started running… and I think it got stuck in a trap Erin and I set earlier. I just kept running and I don’t know where it went after…”

Daniel narrowed his eyes slightly, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “Are you saying that trap stopped it?” he asked, his tone skeptical but not accusing.

Phin shook his head quickly. “I don’t know...” He’d remember the sound of… ‘mush’ that he’d heard from Krevac crushing its head. “I just remember running and hearing a loud noise, but I didn’t look back!” Erin narrowed her eyes as she could tell he was lying, but he must’ve had his reasons right?

Daniel nodded, standing up and looking towards the forest. “Did you hear or see anything that could imply there were more in the forest?”

Phin clenched his teeth, the memory of the fight flashing in his mind. “I didn’t see anything else, and I didn’t hear anything either. It’s probably safe now, but if Hans and Callan are-” *Phin made a sharp turn as he took a step toward the forest, being stopped by Daniel firmly grabbing him by the shoulder.”

“You’re not going out there again with Demons possibly running around." Daniel said firmly. “You’re lucky to have made it back safe, let’s not waste that luck. I’ll find Hans and Callan. You go home and rest.”

“But-” Phin turned back to Daniel, shutting himself up as he saw Daniel’s eyes narrowing, no words necessary.

Phin turned his gaze away from Daniel, attempting to talk back but finding himself unable to disagree. “Okay…” *He said, biting his lip.

Daniel’s face softened, a small reassuring smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring them back before you know it.” He patted Phin on the shoulder as he walked past, moving towards the forest with a calm confidence that only a seasoned knight could muster. His sword rested in its sheath, but his hand hovered near the hilt, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

“I-I should-.” Phin muttered under his breath, taking a step forward.

“You’d only slow him down.” Kael said bluntly, no interest in humoring Phins self-sacrificial plans. “He’s a retired royal knight. They’ll be fine.”

Phin stopped without taking another step, pulling himself back with a reluctant nod, though doubt still lingered in his mind.

“You did everything you could, Phin" Erin said, walking up beside him, putting her hand on his head.

Phin’s gaze turned towards Erin with an annoyed glare. He gently slapped her hand off his head. “You don’t know that!”

Kael quickly clapped his palms together, interrupting the two. “How about we skip the banter? It’s late, and I want to get home before my parents think I’m lying dead somewhere.”

Sara nodded. “I agree... It’s been a long day, and my father might get angry with me if I take any longer.”

The group would continue walking together until they reached a good middle point of the village.

“Get some sleep now, alright Phin?" Kael said, patting him on the shoulder. “Sounds like you’ve landed yourself in enough trouble for the week.”

“Yeah, you don’t know the half of it." Phin muttered, unable to hide a small grin.

Zavier gave a mock salute. “Next time you see a Demon, let me know! I’ll be there and knock it off its feet!”

“Are you sure that sword of yours won’t snap before you even get to try?" Erin teased as Kael and Sara chuckled in unison. Zavier pouted slightly. “Then I’ll take it on with my fists!” He’d yell out, boxing the air. “It won’t see me coming!” He’d chuckle, Kael sighing.

Sara turned to Phin for a moment before heading off. “I’m glad you’re okay, Phin…” She’d turn away for a moment before turning back. “See you tomorrow?” Phin would nod in return. “Yeah… we’ll hear where Hans and Callan ended up.” He’d quietly chuckle, Sara nodding along.

With that, they parted ways, as Phin and Erin walked home together.

When they entered their small home, the smell of stew greeted them. Their mother stirred a pot by the end of the room that connected to the entrance door, while their father read an old tattered book by the table at the center.

“Bit late today aren’t we?" their father said, looking up. His tone expressing curiosity rather than worry. “What were you up to all day?”

Phin hesitated for a brief moment, momentarily glancing towards Erin who in turn looked away. He remembered his promise not to tell their parents that she’d snuck off with him. “I was hunting" Phin said “Didn’t find anything today. After that, I went back to the village and saw Erin playing with Zavier, Kael, and Sara, so we walked back together and just split off.”

Their father nodded. “I see, try to bring back at least a fish next time won’t you? My usual spots are slowly turning up empty, but the ponds seem lively as ever.”

Their mother set bowls of steaming stew on the table. “Now, eat up before it gets any colder, I’ve tried keeping it warm while waiting. It’s boulder rabbit stew, freshly caught today.”

Erin’s face lit up as she eagerly took her seat, digging into the meal like it was the best thing she’d ever tasted. “Thanks mom! Your stew is the best!” she exclaimed between bites.

Their mother beamed with satisfaction. “I’m glad to hear it sweetie, how about I teach you one of these days?” Erin nodded in return.

Phin ate slowly, his mind still replaying the events of the day. The stew was simple and far from noteworthy but just a single bite was enough for Phin to relax, his exhaustion finally catching up with him as he let his guard down. Shortly after finishing his bowl, falling asleep on the spot. His last thoughts on Hans and Callan.

Day 2

The light shone through the window into Zavier’s small bedroom, slowly opening his eyes, he eventually blinked, tired but awake, staring at the old, wooden ceiling above him, the same quiet old farm. The silence here was familiar, but he always felt strange when he was alone. A feeling he disliked. Sitting up on the bed and throwing his blanket to the side, he turned to the side, putting his feet on the ground and stood. The weather was warm today, as usual. Walking out of his bedroom, he’d grab some clothes he’d hung on a chair the day prior, noticing their poor shape he walked over to the kitchen, grabbing some simple sewing tools and started fixing them up. Once done, he’d put them on and make his way to the outside.

Upon leaving his house, he’d wander to a nearby shed. A small storehouse he used to call “the wonder box”. The doors creaked open as he stepped into the cramped and dark storehouse. The room was as filled as it could be, shelves lined with jars, sacks, and tools greeted him, but his attention was fixed on the bins of stored vegetables.

Most of the produce was near the point of rot, but Zavier rummaged through until he pulled out a few decent looking vyr roots, their skin a glossy, deep green, a few sunbells, their golden and thin layers almost translucent and finally he also grabbed a small fyrfruit, bright red and shaped like a twisted teardrop, knowing it would add a bit of spice to the soup. He then walked out of the storehouse carrying his finds and made his way back inside his home and into the kitchen.

He placed all he brought on the worn counter and washed them in a basin of cool water powered by magic crystals. Then grabbing a small knife, he began peeling and chopped the vyr roots into chunks, set the sunbells aside, lastly slicing the fyrfruit into uneven pieces due to his lack of skill. He placed everything into a small pot made of some sort of dark orange metal and set it on the cracked heat stone laying on the counter, positioning his finger on the magic crystal positioned on the side of the heat stone. Closing his eyes, he concentrated, a faint light built within the magic crystal as he did his best to pour any mana into it. With a low, flickering glow, it warmed, heating the pot until the water, now broth, began to bubble. The smell of the soup proving he was far from the level of a common chef.

He stirred the pot gently as it bubbled, unsure when exactly it was ready. Once he’d waited a short while, he removed the pot from the heating stone and placed it on the table, preparing to eat straight out of the pot but before taking a bite, he put his hands together, murmuring a short prayer. “Celestia, thank you for the harvest we’ve- I’ve been blessed with, may you continue to shine your light upon my fortune…” and with that, he began eating. The soup was... passable. A mix of bitter and spicy, the vegetables evidently left in too long, but he ate without complaint.

Once finished, Zavier cleaned the pot and made his way down the stairs to the basement. The basement was cold and dark, Zavier only finding his way through memory. He retrieved a small item from his pocket, a thin, metallic stick imbued with a weak spell, walking towards a small altar with three candles placed upon it. He tapped the item gently against each candle, igniting them one by one. Sitting cross-legged before the flickering flames, he rested his elbows on his knees and stared at them, lost in thought.

He pictured his parents, their faces, the sound of their voices, the way they worked tirelessly to make this farm thrive. His memory foggy since he was so young- hell, he still was, but he held on to what he could. For a long moment, the only sound in the basement was the faint crackle of the candles, eventually broken by Zavier. “Thank you mom, dad…” he’d say, what he referred to, only known to him, a sad smile tugging at his lips. After a while, Zavier rose and extinguished the flames. The day awaited.

Outside, the farm laid before him, a large land of overgrown fields and neglected plots. He grabbed a basket hanging from the wall of the storehouse and walked through the patches of crops. Most of the plants were already wilted, infested with bugs or covered in spots of rot, but he managed to gather a few glosspea pods, their metallic shine glinting in the sunlight, and several brushleaf cabbages, their leaves frail but salvageable, had to be eaten soon though.

He carried his haul to the storehouse, where he sorted what he was able to salvage into crates. The small pile of produce made the future feel… hopeless… but- it would have to do.

Walking to the doorway, Zavier started leaning against the storehouse door frame, he looked out over the fields toward the village. The farm he lived on was a bit away due to the size needed, his grandfather had apparently built it by hand and wanted a bunch of land for expansion. While staring at the village in the distance, he couldn’t help but wonder if Hans and Callan had made it back safely…He pushed the thoughts aside for now, turning back to the inside of the storage house.

Zavier stood in the dim storage house, the faint smell of rotten crops filling the space. The lacking pile of his week’s harvest sat before him, and he crouched down to begin sorting. His hands moved swiftly, plucking through the vegetables one by one and laying them into neat piles.

First, he picked up a cluster of spinoroots, their twisted, knotted shapes faintly glowing with a greenish hue. They were good nourishment and could stay fresh for weeks, but he still needed to ration them carefully. He counted them out, setting aside a handful for his own meals.

“That’s five days worth,” he muttered to himself, eyeing the vegetables. “Maybe six...”

Next were the calidbell pods, their orange skin slightly bruised from the harvest. He frowned, squeezing one gently. It was already way too soft, which meant he’d have to eat it within the next day or so. Setting a few aside for himself, he added the rest to the pile he’d offer the village.

The pile of greenburst stalks was next, their long, leafy fronds crisp to the touch. These were nutritious but bland, a staple that could fill his stomach when paired with anything else. He bundled a good portion for his meals, tying them together with a strip of coarse twine.

As he worked, his thoughts wandered. He calculated the days until the next harvest, counting backward from the sprouting cycle of the remaining crops in the field.

“Two weeks, maybe three,” he muttered. “If the weather holds.” He glanced at the unusable scraps piling up beside him. Rot-blackened vyr roots, burst fyrfruits that had leaked their sticky juice, and a cluster of brushleaf cabbage that had wilted beyond saving. He sighed and carried the ruined vegetables to the compost bin outside, shaking his head at the waste.

Returning to the storage house, he looked at the dwindling pile of good crops. He carefully placed most of what he wouldn’t need into a large sack, packing it tightly so it wouldn’t shift during his walk to the village. His fingers brushed over the glosspea pods as he tucked them in, their translucent skins refracting the faint light like tiny crystals. Those would fetch a good price if he ever chose to sell them, but he wouldn’t.

After a moment’s hesitation, he pulled out two calidbell pods from the sack and added them back to his own pile. “Better not push it,” he reasoned, thinking of the colder nights that would come soon.

By the time he finished, the storage house felt emptier than ever. His share was modest, just enough to last until the next harvest if he was careful. He tightened the sack, hefting it onto his shoulder, and paused for a moment, glancing back at the sorted piles.

“Here’s hoping it’s enough,” he murmured, before heading out the door toward the village.

Zavier heaved the sack over his shoulder, used to its weight but still struggling as he made his way toward the village. Wilday marked the end of his week’s work, and with Restday tomorrow, he wanted to ensure the crops he didn’t need went to those who always went out of their way to help him. The dirt path from his farm through the open fields eventually meeting the cobblestones of the village road.

The village was active. A few adults shuffled about their morning routines, fetching water or tending to small chores. Smoke curled lazily from the few chimneys, and the faint sound of the rare livestock breathing life into the atmosphere.

His first stop was a small, weathered home with vines creeping up its stone walls. He knocked lightly on the wooden door, and an older woman answered with a warm smile.

“Zavier, you’re out early today aren’t you?” she greeted.

He nodded and reached into his sack, pulling out a bundle of brushleaf cabbage and a few glosspea pods. “For you, Miss Elna.”

The woman hesitated, her smile faltering. “You’re too kind, you need to keep something for yourself.”

“I’ve got more than enough” he said firmly. “I really mean it.”

Reluctantly, she accepted the vegetables, and before he could leave, she pressed a couple of copper coins into his hand. “Take this, Zavier. You’ve got to think of yourself too.”

Zavier gave her a faint smile, thanking her but turning down the payment before moving on.

The cobbled streets were slowly filling with life as he walked from house to house. At each stop, Zavier gave what he could spare. From vyr roots and fyrfruits, to bundles of greenburst stalks. Some insisted on giving him a few coins in return, despite his protests, while others simply thanked him and offered smiles. He’d also made sure to leave some out in front of the guardhouse, so Daniel and his men would find it.

As Zavier approached the inn at the center of the village, his steps slowed. Parked near the square were two carriages, their wheels muddied from travel. Soldiers milled about, some leaning on their weapons or exchanging quiet words. Zavier avoided eye contact as he passed, trying to not get spotted, but once they did- their voices followed.

“The orphan boy again?” one muttered, loud enough for Zavier to hear.

“Surprised he’s not begging for scraps yet” another sneered.

Zavier’s grip tightened on the sack, but he kept walking, ignoring them as he always did. What else could he do?

Once he’d gone past them and entered the inn, the innkeeper greeted him warmly. The air inside was warm, filled with the smell of fresh bread and roasted meat.

“Zavier! Good to see you boy!” the innkeeper said, stepping around the counter.

Zavier placed the remainder of his vegetables on the counter. “I thought you might need these.”

The innkeeper’s eyes widened in gratitude. “The soldiers’ve been eatin’ my stock barren, This’ll help a whole lot!” He reached into his pocket, extending a hand with a small handful of silver coins. “Here, take this for your trouble.”

Zavier held up his hands, shaking his head. “I can’t take that. You’ve got your own to feed.”

“Nonsense, we get by just fine!” the innkeeper firmly said.. “You’ll take it, boy. No arguing.”

Reluctantly, Zavier pocketed the coins, thanking the innkeeper.

As he left the inn, Zavier made his way down to a quieter side of the town, where the few homes were still yet to wake or had different routines. He stopped in front of Callan’s house and knocked softly on the door. Callan’s mother answered, her expression softening when she saw him.

“Well if it isn’t Zavier, what might you be here for?” she asked kindly.

“Did Daniel find Callan…?” he asked, a bit of worry showing through his expression..

She nodded. “That boy came in late last night. Had a bit of a tumble in the woods, but he’s fine now. Sure don’t know how he keeps ending up in trouble with the guards!”

Zavier smiled in relief, his worries washed away. “Uhm… Is it fine if I come in?” He asked. Callan’s mother nodded. “His father is having him work extra by the forge today, I’m sure he’ll be done soon.” Zavier nodded and thanked her as he walked inside, making his way to the forge in the back of the house.

The heat was intense as he drew nearer, the air growing thick with the lingering warmth of the forge. He passed a small open window, the fresh air unable to quite cut through the smoldering temperatures of the inner room. As he stepped inside the forge, the heat wrapped around him like a heavy blanket, causing him to blink as his eyes adjusted to the dim light and warm air surrounding him.

The room was filled with the rhythmic sound of metal on metal, the clanging of a hammer meeting the blade, punctuated by the occasional hiss of hot iron being dipped into water. Callan’s father, a burly man with a weathered face, stood over the anvil, guiding Callan’s movements as he carefully worked on the dagger in front of him. The fire at the center of the room burned brightly, but Callan didn’t seem to mind the heat, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Zavier leaned against the doorframe, watching quietly as Callan continued to hammer out the shape of the blade, sweat glistening on his brow. Callan’s father was giving instructions in a low, rumbling voice, occasionally offering a critique on Callan’s technique. Zavier could hear their exchange, but Callan was so focused that he hadn't noticed his presence.

“That’s it, just like that. Watch the angle. If you keep the edge too shallow, it’ll bend when it’s in use.” Callan’s dad grumbled, pointing at the rough shape of the dagger.

Zavier cleared his throat, stepping forward into the room. “Hey Callan!” he said, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the noise. Returning to his usual unserious act.

Callan jolted, startled for a moment before he turned around, looking at Zavier with a slight frown. His face was streaked with soot and sweat, but there was no mistaking the annoyed glint in his eyes.

“Hey.” he greeted, though his tone carried a hint of frustration. “What’s up?”

Callan’s dad glanced over at Zavier, then back at his son, letting out a sigh before speaking. “Callan’s finishing up that dagger. He’ll be out once he's done." Callan’s father said, wiping his hands on his apron. "Then you two can go play heroes. Just stay out of the forest."

Callan, still focused on the blade, muttered. “It’s not ‘playing’ It’s sparring. We need to train so we can join the army. It’s not just a game.”

Zavier smiled faintly at Callan’s insistence, knowing how much the idea of joining the army meant to him. While Zavier didn’t share the same passion to join the army, he admired Callan’s drive. "Plus we have to settle the score! There’s no way I’m letting you stay ahead in victories!" Zavier said with a light shrug, personally, Zavier would rather become an adventurer- they’re the ones who get to become heroes after all.

Callan shot him a look but didn’t say anything else, his attention now fully on his work. Moments later, with a final hammer strike, he held up the dagger to inspect it, his dad nodding in approval.

“Good. It’s a bit rough but you’re finally getting the hang of it.” Callan’s father said, “We’ll finish it up tomorrow, then we’ll move onto real weapons.” He turned toward Zavier, his voice softer now. “You want to stay for a meal? I’ll be done soon, and Callan’s always hungry after work.”

Zavier hesitated, glancing at Callan, who was now wiping his hands on a cloth, clearly looking forward to a break. “I... sure, I’ll stay.”

“Great.” Callan’s dad said with a grin, his broad face lighting up with warmth. "We’ll have something ready soon."

Zavier nodded, stepping back to let the heat of the forge wrap around him once again. He knew Callan had been working hard, and while Zavier had his doubts about joining the army, he respected Callan’s dedication. He’d never seen anyone so determined to forge their own future, especially when he himself couldn’t ever figure out his own.

After lunch, Zavier and Callan made their way to an open field nearby Callan’s house. Both holding wooden swords. The air was cool and the sun shone brightly upon the patch of grass they’d stopped at. Zavier spoke up first. “What did you and Hans find after we split up?”

Callan walked to the other side of the field as he began recounting the events. “We found the monster's body… it was a Demon.” Zavier nodded, he’d heard it straight from Phin the night before. Callan turned to look at Zavier, looking puzzled. “Really? No reaction? I bet with Hans that you’d go nuts!”

Zavier chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Phin already told us about the Demon, it’s out of the system!” Callans puzzled expression grew into one of annoyance. “Damn it! Of course he did!” Zavier couldn’t help but laugh, but as he calmed down he asked. “So it really got caught in a trap?”  Callan nodded, adding to what Phin had told them. “Something else killed it though, it’s head was…” Callan shook just remembering the sight, Zavier figured what that meant and shook as well. “R-really? So there’s something else out there?”

“I think so… I told Daniel and he said he’d talk to Phin about it today.” As Zavier was about to speak, Callan remembered one important detail. “Oh-! We also found a spear that must have belonged to the Demon!” Zavier lit up with excitement “Really?! Did Daniel take it?” Callan instantly shook his head. “We managed to hide it once we heard someone coming, it’s still in the forest!”

Zavier turned to look at the forest in the distance then looked back with puppy eyes. “C-Can we…?” Callan shut him down instantly. “No! I’ve already gotten the scolding of a lifetime and dad is forcing me to wake up early to work in the forge. If I’m found sneaking off when he told me not to, I'll probably never leave the forge again!”

Zavier slumped as he sighed. “Aw man… I’ll have to ask Hans about it later…”

“Now straighten up, we need to practice or else we’ll never join the army!” Callan shouted as he began stretching. Zavier joining in, the two looking at each other from across the field. “You got it!”

As the two finished stretching they assumed a stance each.

Callan stood with his knees bent and shoulders loose, his sword held with both hands angled by the waist, ready for both a powerful offense or defense at moments notice. Whilst he wasn’t a trained soldier, he’d seen more than his fair share of combat by observing the guards, especially Daniel.

Zavier kept his stance simple, holding his sword in one hand, his off-hand hovering ready to act on its own. Shifting his feet, amping himself up, not staying still for even a moment. With no real training, he relied only on what felt right.

Callan made the first move, lunging forward feinting with a short jab towards Zavier.

Zavier read his intention and twisted to the side, letting the feint pass by as he pivoted on his foot, moving his blade towards the flat of Callan’s sword, pushing it to the side as he used Callan’s momentum against him, with the intent to hit him in the ribs with the edge of his wooden sword.

Before the blade connected to his ribs, Callan, with a tight twist of his forearms, angled his blade diagonally and caught the blow, deflecting the attack and then stepping in to knock Zavier back and create some distance. The sound of their weapons clashing echoing through the field, and the vibrations of the impact making its way through both their bodies, Zavier clearly being more affected by it, stumbling slightly but turning the stumble to his advantage as he increased his momentum into a spin, regaining his balance as well as instantly going on the counter-attack as he let the sword trail in an arc- leaving an opening.

Callan without hesitation surged forward, swinging his sword from high, with force to break bone had it been a real weapon. Picking up on Callan’s intent again, Zavier grabbed his sword with his off-hand, using both hands to block the overhead swing with the flat of his blade, his knees feeling the pressure of the impact more than the rest of his body, internally he was thanking Celestia that his wooden sword stayed intact.

Zavier followed up by shifting his footing, sliding left as he parried Callan’s blade to the side, all in short succession. Callan, still keeping his momentum was struggling to stop himself as Zavier darted past him, moving like flowing water, not a thought behind his movement or footwork, pure instinct. Having gotten behind Callan, Zavier aimed a feint jab at Callan’s back.

Using the momentum he already had, Callan redirected it, pivoting on his heel, risking his balance to complete a turn with a single twist, aiming his blade at Zavier’s hip. Zavier smirked as it had gone just as he expected, cancelling his feint and ducking low, sweeping Callan’s off the ground with a kick at his heel, causing Callan to take a tumble to the ground, quickly rolling back and springing back onto his feet. “You’ve gotta be kidding me! How’d you plan for that?!” He’d shout agitated, breathing heavily.

Zavier with an exhausted look smirked. “You’re so easy to read! You’re going down any second now!” Callan scoffed and replied. “Not with how much you’re sweating when I’ve barely broken a sweat!”

Still smirking, but unable to answer, Zavier stepped forward and attacked with a flurry of quick and short slashes and jabs that forced Callan on the defensive. Callan deflected each one, parrying each within a tight area, conserving his motion and energy, not wanting to let Zavier get the advantage for even a second. Each time Zavier got close to breaking through, Callan would push back with force to throw Zavier off-balance.

After a bit, Zavier went for another feint, faking a lunge to the left before redirecting to a right lunge. With Zavier’s energy drained, Callan was able to catch the feint, intercepting the right lunge, deflecting and pushing Zavier off balance before following up with a sharp thrust to Zavier’s gut, stopping the blade shortly before contact as Zavier yelled out-

“Okay! You got me! I yield!” Panting, completely out of breath as he fell on his ass, sweating intensely. Callan let out a deep breath as he spoke- before taking a stance, putting his closed fist out and raising a finger. “Now listen and I’ll tell you why you lost! First- you rely on your speed but you have no real technique!” He raised another finger. “Two! You underestimate your opponent and try to bluff even when you’re in no shape to pull it off! If you’d kept up the flurry of attacks you’d have overwhelmed me!” He raised a third finger. “Lastly! You’re better off avoiding attacks than blocking them, you’re too weak for that!”

Zavier chuckled as Callan would educate him. “Yeah you’re right!” Callan would then start laughing alongside him. “You still fight really weird! Why don’t you do what Daniel and the guards do?” Zavier would shrug in reply. “It doesn’t feel natural, I just move the way I think I should!”

Callan couldn’t help but continue laughing. “You’ll never beat me that way! 58-15 and counting! You’re way behind!” Zavier laughed along, snapping back with a comment of his own. “Oh yeah? I’ll beat your score and double it! Just you wait!”

Unbeknownst to the two, this would be the last day they’d ever spar against each other.

After sparring, the two parted ways, both covered in sweat and stains from the field. Callan groaned as he stretched his sore arms, his wooden sword resting on his shoulder.

“I’m heading back before dad starts thinking I’ve snuck off.” he muttered.

Zavier grinned, nudging him with an elbow. “That’s what you get staying out there too long, forge-boy. Maybe you’ll end up just making swords for my heroic adventures?” He’d declare in jest.

Callan gave him a dry glare. “I’m putting you in the dirt face-first next time.”

“If you can even land a hit before I yield!” Zavier laughed, Callan looking far from impressed “That’s not a good thing you know?”

Soon, Callan would jog toward his house as Zavier waved as they parted ways.

Zavier turned toward the village center, letting the cooling air soothe the burn in his legs as he made his way to Hans' home. Closing in on the wooden gate in front of the larger house, he noticed Daniel, who was seemingly just returning. The knight looked worn out from a long day despite the early hours, though still alert as ever. He glanced over and gave Zavier a small nod.

“Zavier, I was just going to make my way over to the farm to thank you for the crops!” Daniel greeted, pausing to unclip his cloak.

“Oh that’s no problem, I’m glad you found them! Uhm, were you talking to Phin?” Zavier asked.

Daniel looked down at him for a moment, then gave a quiet sigh. “I was. Nothing different from last night, unlike him.”

Zavier frowned, folding his arms. “Do you think he’s hiding something?”

Daniel didn’t confirm or deny. “He’s a good kid, he wouldn’t hide something important. Sorry if I accused your friend.” He’d chuckle before stepping through the gate and passing glance back. “If you’re here for Hans, he’s down by the market helping out.”

“Thanks!” Zavier replied, already turning.

The streets closer to the market had a few more people moving about now, the late afternoon haze thinning as the evening began to settle in. Some of the merchant stalls were still being packed up, crates shuffled, and covers tied down. Near one of the carts at the edge, Zavier spotted the familiar figure of Hans, working hard for someone his age and status, sleeves rolled up as he hefted a barrel onto a wooden rack with the ease of someone twice his size.

Zavier slowed his pace, watching for a moment, then called out.

“Hey, are you trying to become the strongest man in Thaeria or just showing off?” He’d tease as he jogged over to Hans.

Hans looked over his shoulder, smiled. “Bit of both!” He’d chuckle.

Zavier followed along as Hans carried the barrel, catching his breath from the jog, he’d already run his stamina dry so a jog was too much for him right now. “Callan told me what you found yesterday.” He said, and without letting Hans finish speaking, continued. “Phin told us about the Demon and the trap, and Callan mentioned the spear!”

It took no moment for Hans to put the pieces together as he asked. “Is that why you came here?” Zavier grinned but shook his head. “Not the only reason, but since I’m here I should ask!” Hans let out a small chuckle. “I knew you’d ask one of us about it!” He’d continue. “He hid the spear and sword by the clearing near the trail to the village.”
Zavier’s eyes lit up, that was nearby! “There was a sword too?! Are they still there?” Hans shook his head. “I checked this morning since Callan asked me to get them for him, but they were gone. Dad probably found them after leading us home.” Zavier deflated on the spot. “Gone…?” He’d groan loudly. “Will I ever see a Demons weapon?” He’d dramatically whine, then as he was about to ask if Hans had time to do some strength training, a voice cut through the market.

“Hans!” Sara’s voice rang out, there was no mistaking it. She was stood by one of the larger and more grandiose stalls, with tad more luxurious items. Hans sped up, prompting Zavier to follow as he teased. “Helping Sara all alone?” Hans scoffed. “I’m just being helpful, plus, Sara’s dad helps the guards equipment get here faster from the capital! It just makes sense to help!”

As they closed in and Hans dropped the barrel behind the stall, Sara sighed. “It’s about time! We need help moving the crates onto the cart!” Before anyone else had time to speak, Erin came running, her arms wrapped around a bundle of neatly folded clothes. “Mom just finished this batch!” She’d say as she handed it off to one of the men loading the cart, Sara marking it off a list. “Thank you Erin! That should be the last of your sold goods!” Erin nodded as she walked up to the rest of them.

Sara then decided to ask. “Where’s Phin by the way? I haven’t seen him all day. Is he out hunting?” Erin shook her head with a sour expression. “He’s grounded, after Daniel came by this morning our parents found out about what happened in the forest and they got mad he didn’t say anything sooner.”

Zavier blinked, confused by one detail. “But you were also out there, why aren’t you grounded?” Erin glanced away awkwardly and muttered.

“W-well… Daniel didn’t know I was in the forest…” Sara laughed. “You let him take all the blame? That’s unlike you!” She’d calm down as she continued. “Though they’d need one of you to deliver the last batch before you get ready to move to the capital in two days.”

Zavier froze, recalling the conversation he’d had with Callan yesterday regarding that exact rumour. “Wait, you’re actually going to the capital? And you knew?!” He said, his gaze darting between Erin and Sara.

Erin nodded. “Mhm. Some travelling merchant bought one of my moms products last month and it ended up at a fancy tailor shop in the capital, they ended up offering her a job!” Zavier was gobsmacked. “You’re serious?”

Hans chuckled as he turned to him. “I’m more surprised you didn’t know.” Zavier turned his head towards Hans in a sharp motion. “Not even Callan knew, we thought it was just a rumor!” Sara chuckled, Zavier speaking up again. “How come we’re the only ones who didn’t know?” Sara spoke first. “The dress was sold through my dads stall so the request for the tailor who made it went through us first!” Hans chimed in. “I heard from my dad a few days ago, he was helping Phins dad hire some adventurers to guard them during the travel!”

Zavier furrowed his brows, crossing his arms as he looked at the three of them. “So how come nobody decided to mention it? Especially you or Phin!” he’d ask as he turned towards Erin.

Erin was seemingly caught off guard. “It’s not like I intentionally kept it from you! Mom and Dad only agreed to go through with it just a week ago but- Phin might’ve kept it secret intentionally…” She thought back to the night prior where Phin was also hiding something about the woods, he’d been a lot more secretive lately. Hans then spoke too. “He probably just didn’t see it as a big deal, he’d still come visit obviously! Erin too, right?” He said turning to Erin, to which she’d nod.

Zavier sighed, looking a bit hurt at having been left out. “Maybe it isn’t that big of deal, you’re right.” He’d quietly chuckle.

Hans then asked. “Oh right, there was something else you wanted right?” Zavier would then laugh as he responded. “Seems I forgot!” To which Hans let out a quick chuckle before he continued helping Sara fill the cart with wares, Zavier also joined in after waving goodbye to Erin who had to return home after bringing the batch of clothes to the merchant.

Having helped loading up the cart, Zavier said his goodbyes to Sara and Hans before heading off to his final stop of the day. Though he probably could visit Phin too, he was exhausted and figured Phin wouldn’t go anywhere in one night. Sara said they left in two days after all.

Walking to the outskirts of the village, he’d reach a mostly run down house. Despite its appearance, the owner was well off, they just didn’t have the funds to fix up the entire place, prioritizing food and clean clothes for those inside. This was the orphanage of the village.

Nowadays though, nobody really called it an orphanage since only Kael lived here with the owners. There was a time where Zavier was meant to live here too after his parents passed, but even at a young age he’d just run away to the farm every day. The orphanage owners one day just decided he was better off living there and would check in periodically if Zavier didn’t visit. Though, Zavier still had fond memories of this place as this is where he met Kael.

Walking through the front door, one of the owners- an elderly man glanced from the kitchen and waved, the two don't often speak with each other and today was no different. Zavier walked past the kitchen and into the hallway, making his way to Kael’s room at the very end. Opening the door to see Kael sitting on the bed, reading a book the two of them used to fight over.

“Tales of Alvira again?” Zavier asked as he walked closer. Kael turning his direction. “You come here to borrow it again?” Zavier raised both hands. “You got me!” He said, chuckling, before sitting down on the bed next to Kael, leaning in to see what story he was on. “Oh you’re at the part where they slay the Demon king!” Kael nodded. “Using their brains, outsmarting and outnumbering an opponent they could never beat alone, that’s what real heroes are!” He’d declare proudly.

Zavier nodded but added. “If they weren’t strong in the first place they wouldn’t be able to beat him even with a plan!” Kael reluctantly agreed. “Yeah yeah, you say that all the time!” He’d then ask, out of curiosity. “Do you think any of these stories could happen in real life? Like the star in the ocean above? Or real heroes existing?” Zavier nodded instantly. “Of course heroes are real, one of them’s sitting right here!” He’d say, exaggerating his movements as he declared himself a hero, causing Kael to laugh. “If you’re our hero then we’re doomed!” Zavier jokingly pushed Kael “Only if you don’t start training! Heroes work together, remember?” Kael, still laughing nodded. “Yeah, heroes work together!”

As the two of them retraced the book, as if they didn’t know it by memory already, the hours would pass and Zavier would end up spending the night at the orphanage.

Within the dark room, laying on the bed that was far more comfortable than the one he had at home, Zavier couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d learnt today. Phin and Erin were moving, they weren’t his only friends but it felt sad… Not having fond memories of goodbyes. He’d sigh to himself as he turned in bed. Erin said it herself, they’d visit.

He wouldn’t have to really say goodbye to anyone, not anytime soon.

Day 3

The sun had barely passed the horizon when Callan woke up, the soft air filtering through the window of his room. Outside was quieter than usual, the sound of merchant carriages missing, a reminder that today was Restday, a day most would spend relaxing, unless they were being punished and forced to work in a forge.

His arms still aching from the sparring session the day prior, and even more from the forge work he’d done right after. With a tired sigh, he rolled out of his bed and ran his hand through his hair, somewhat fixing it up. He’d then begin getting dressed as he walked out of his room into the kitchen where his father and mother were already bright awake, enjoying their plain bread best they could.

He sat down, taking his own bread and began eating. “Morning…” He’d say, annoyance of his situation clear, but ignored. “Morning.” His father and mother replied one after the other.

At first, the room was silent, awkwardly so. Callan’s father would break that silence. “Some soldiers came through yesterday. Ordered another batch of swords, I’m telling you they got more coins in their pockets than sense in their heads with how they’re breaking their weapons!” He took a bite of his bread, chewing it before continuing. “The smithy’s been more popular than ever, we’re becoming a key supplier for the front lines which means we have to work harder.*

Callan sighed. “Is this where you tell me to take over one day?”

His father nodded. “I want you to really put some thought into what you want to do.” He said, getting to the point quick. “You’re good with a blade, but you’re proving to be even better at making one. That’s not something to waste.”

Callan frowned as he looked at his dad. “I’m still joining the army, I don’t want to stay here swinging a hammer and not make a name for myself.” His father scoffed at that comment. “It’s your choice in the end. I won’t stop you, but I’d hate to see that talent thrown away just because you want to make yourself known.”

Callans mother cut in. “Your job doesn’t have to put you in danger.” Callan didn’t respond.

Once they’d finished, his father would stand up and speak. “Whatever you plan to do in the future, you still have a punishment to work off. Come on, we’ve got work to do.” He’d say, grabbing his apron from a hook in the hall as he walked into the forge.

Callan stood up as he sighed. “Yeah, yeah…” Grabbing his own apron and a pair of gloves, following behind his father.

The heat of the forge wrapped around Callan like a weighted blanket as he stepped inside the forge, Callan had gotten used to the heat, but that didn’t stop him from feeling it.

He put on the apron as he approached his father stationed by the anvil, arms crossed. “No shortcuts today, you’re making a full blade. Start to finish. If it fails, we learn why, and repeat.” Callan nodded, already aware of the exhaustion he’d be facing by the end of this morning.

“Get the coals ready.” Callan’s dad said, prompting Callan to walk over to the forge, picking up an iron rod to work the fire. The coal was black and dormant, it was already heated but Callan used the iron rod to help the airflow so the heat would pick up until embers bloomed from it, the heat of the forge picking up.

“Keep the heat even, don’t just get it hot, keep the flame breathing.” Callan nodded, adjusting his rhythm and technique to spread the heat evenly across the surface, once the color was a consistent orange, he placed a billet of steel into the forge with a pair of flat tongs, mindful not to put it too far in or too deep, making sure the heat spread evenly across the piece of metal. His father would notice the slightly uneven heating but not mention it.

“Let it soak in the heat.”

After adjusting it a number of times, it’d have finished heating up. Callan moved it over to an anvil quickly once he figured it was ready, keeping it steady with the tongs and then grabbing the hammer with another, lifting it just above his shoulder and then bringing it down with the help of its weight, only aiming it. He’d use angled strikes to pinch and lengthen the steel gradually, each blow having to land just right to keep a consistent width along the flat of the blade. His wrist eventually aching from the repetition.

“Angles drifting.” His father warned. “Okay…” He’d reply, focusing.

He’d adjust his positioning, eventually the steel would start resisting, forcing him to reheat it. Hammering and reheating over and over again, eventually he’d start failing in his hammering technique. “Don’t just tap it, commit to the strike.” Callan nodded as he wiped sweat from his forehead. Mistakes would still happen every now and then, uneven shaping, overcompensating when fixing it, all the while his father would tell him to communicate with his work.

Callan kept going, this was far more exhausting than forging a knife. He’d think to himself how this was too much of an increase in challenge.

Eventually once he’d finished shaping the steel, he’d reheat it and let it normalize. Reheat, normalize before finally quenching it.

Gripping the nearly finished blade with a pair of tongs, he reheated it one last time and then brought it over to the oil, dipping it and holding it still as he could as the oil violently hissed.

Once he finished that up, he’d present it to his father who would take a look, nod and say. “Not bad for your first sword blade. A little more practice and you could start selling these.”

Callan let out a long breath as he nodded, putting the blade on a stone rack nearby. He’d take a sit on a worn stool, resting for as long as he could, watching his father move around the forge binding swords in cloth, cleaning up scraps and maintaining the fire as he’d soon get back to work.

“Hey… can I ask you something?” Callan asked, still resting.

His father nodded, still moving around the forge. “You were a soldier, right? So why did you open a smith all the way out here?” His father stopped as Callan asked, he’d look in his direction as he slowly approached, grabbing the wrapped swords before he sat down in front of Callan. “It wasn’t always my plan, sitting out here in the middle of nowhere and making swords for some soldiers.” He admitted. “See, when I was training in the capital, sword in hand every morning, practicing with everyone else, day in and day out. Thought that’d be me for life.” He’d wrap the bundle tighter using rope, ensuring the bound swords would stay all wrapped together tightly. “But there was a day, soldiers returned from the frontlines. That was the first day I met the royal blacksmith. Just a man working hard, someone of his status you’d expect him to be famous but he had no fame to his name back then. Working at a cramped forge behind the barracks, nobody really noticed him until they needed something fixed, or made. Sometimes repaired. Honestly, even a novice like me back then could tell he was skilled.”

Callan raised an eyebrow, not understanding the point. “Was he really that good?”

His father shook his head. “That doesn’t even begin to cover it.” He’d never seen his father speak so admirably about someone before. “He was a genius. I watched him forge five shortswords in the time it took another to forge one, and they were sharper. Cleaner… sturdier. Balanced like feathers, perfect in every way. I saw as he became known, officers requesting him by name. Claims that his weapons turned the tides of battle before it even begun.”

Callan scoffed. “So you’re just copying someone because he got famous?” Not realizing the irony of his words.

“Not at all.” His father replied. “It taught me something, seeing him work so hard every day, while I saw soldiers leave and never return.” He’d finish wrapping the bundle of weapons, putting them on the floor between himself and Callan. “In a war, a great soldier can shift the battle, but a great blacksmith- he arms a hundred, maybe even more, of those great soldiers. Every sword in a soldier’s hand, every spear that doesn’t shatter, every shield that doesn’t crack, that’s the work of a blacksmith. Often quiet, forgotten, but essential.”

Callan quieted down, asking now in complete curiosity. “So you left the army to be like him…?”

He shook his head. “I admired him but… I left because I knew I wasn’t going to be that great soldier that shifts the battle. I was decent. Quick, tough, but irreplaceable? Not even close. That smith? He was. I wasn’t ever going to make it as a soldier, but as a blacksmith, I can make sure others do.”

Callan looked down, thinking to himself. “So… do you think I’d be just a replaceable soldier?”

His father shook his head. “That’s not what I’m saying.” He’d point at Callan. “You’re going to be stronger than I ever was. Quicker, smarter with a blade. You would make it in the army. You’d make a name for yourself, I know that.”

He lowed his hand, quieting down. “But if you stayed here, committed to this life and practiced hard every day? You’d save more lives than any soldier could. You’d make a name for yourself too, not as the son of the village blacksmith, but for your own work.”

Callan opened his mouth, wanting to ask more about the blacksmith that his father had mentioned, but his father interrupted. “We’ll talk more about his later okay? For now-” He’d pick up the bundle of swords and give it to Callan. “These need to be delivered to the soldiers, you’ll find their carriages by the inn.” Callan nodded, standing up and heaving them over his shoulder, holding it by the rope they were tightened with. Once he turned around to leave through the shop entrance, his father spoke. “Just think about it okay? Not every battlefield must have blood on it.”

Callan paused, then stepped outside.

As Callan walked, the weight of the swords bundled together over his back weighed him down. Thinking of what his father had said, and on his dream to join the army. Was chasing fame really worth more than building something lasting? Was a name in history books more important than the people one could save through commitment to smithing?

Approaching the village center, the dust stirring from the road with each step he took as the inn came into view. Finally seeing the carriages parked nearby, standard military wagons fitted for long travel. They’d been stationed here for a few days now, getting ready for the final stretch before the frontlines. Just ahead, two soldiers lounging by a stack of crates, laughing louder than they needed to.

Callan slowed down instinctively, catching snippets of their conversation.

“That orphan boy really goes around every day, strutting in like he belongs here.” The soldier laughed. The other responding. “Doesn’t even talk back, just keeps his head down like a scared mutt!”

Callan’s expression darkened hearing the soldiers mocking attitudes. It was unlike Zavier to just stay down, he always snapped back when mocked and out of all things, these soldiers mocked him because his parents weren’t around?

He tightened his grip around the rope of the bundled swords, picking up the pace. Shifting the bundle from his shoulder, gripping the rope even tighter as he let it fall back behind him before sending it flying at the guards, letting go of the rope.

The bundle crashed into one of the soldiers, catching him square in the face, causing him to stumble backwards off the crate he was sat upon, with a strangled grunt as he clattered into the dirt.

The other soldier jolted upright, hand going to the hilt of his sword, turning his head towards the aggressor, Callan. “The hell’s your problem brat?!” He shouted, squinting as he recognized Callan. “Blacksmith’s kid huh?!”

Callan didn’t flinch, standing ready. “Yeah… there’s your damn swords.” An edge to his words.

The soldier glanced at his groaning companion on the ground, then back at Callan. “Got a damn problem with us you damn brat?!” Callan didn’t look away, sharpening his gaze. “How can soldiers talk like that about the people they’re protecting?”

The downed soldier placed his hand on the ground as he began standing up. “Punks got a mouth on em’, should we bring im’ in?” The other soldier nodded. “Assault on an army official, nothing we can do aye?”

As the soldiers took a step forward, a voice cut through interrupting them. “I’ll handle him, you two worry about getting ready for your travel!” Daniel said as he walked between the soldiers and Callan. The soldiers paused, muttering something between the two before the soldier who got hit with the sword spat to the side. “Tch.”

Daniel walked up to Callan and placed his hand on his shoulder as he began walking. “Come on kid, let’s get you back home.”

As the two walked, Daniel attempted to make conversation. “What made you think you could assault army officials?” He asked, not with a stern tone, just inquisitive, but Callan didn’t answer.

Walking in silence for the remainder of the trip before they reached Callan’s home. Daniel knocked on the door, it didn’t take long before Callan’s mother opened it.

Her eyes landing between Daniel and her son, Callan. “What now?” She asked, folding her arms as if ready to scold Callan. “Did he get in trouble with the guards again?” Daniel offered a polite half-bow before shaking his head. “Oh not at all, Mira. I came to place an order for Henric, I figured I’d tag along after I spotted Callan.”

She nodded and sighed in relief. “That’s a relief, Henric’s out in the forge, you can take the shop entrance.”

Making their way to the forge through the outer shop entrance, they opened the door, a thick blanket of warm air gushing out. Henric looked up as they entered. “Daniel, what a pleasant surprise.” He greeted. “What brings you here?”

Daniel offered a bow before speaking. “I’m here to place an order for the guards, have some time?” Henric nodded. “Of course, let me get some charcoal so I can jot this down.” He wiped his hands on a rag and stepped into the house.

Daniel stepped inside and took a seat, Callan having done so before him. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Callan asked.

Daniel shrugged. “I know those two, they’re filth. Undisciplined, lazy and overconfident because they’re stationed in the rear. They’ll retire soon as they see what it’s like in the frontlines. Doesn’t mean you can throw swords at them.” He joked.

Callan glanced. “They were making fun of Zavier.” He muttered. Daniel responding “I heard. Never said you couldn’t get angry, but speaking with your fists? That’s what gives them power.”

Callan scowled. “They’re supposed to protect us aren’t they? What good are they if they spend their time mocking us?” Daniel looked at Callan. “They’re not all like that, there’s a few like them but they don’t last long.” Callan scoffed. “You haven’t been a knight for years, how would you know what it’s like now?” Daniel chuckled under his breath. “Do you think I’m ancient or something?”

Callan shook his head awkwardly. “... Why did you retire?”

Daniel pondered before answering. “It wasn’t my choice really. I got injured in the frontlines and just couldn’t keep up anymore.” Daniel said. “Spent a year just to recover, by the time I could swing a sword, my station at the front wasn’t an option anymore. My mentor, Aeric Eivil, recommended me for this job.”

Callan, interested in his mentor, asked. “Aeric? Is that some great knight?”

Daniel chuckled, a bit surprised. “A military fanatic like you, and you haven’t heard of Aeric? Let alone the Eivil household? What are they teaching you?” He joked, folding his arms as he reminisced “The old guy is strict as hell, but nobody is as fair as him. Didn’t waste time yelling unless you were about to get yourself, or someone else killed. Not teaching you to win, but teaching you to survive. Said it was better to come home with scars than die trying to prove yourself.”

Callan pondered. “So he taught you everything?” Daniel nodded. “Everything that mattered. He didn’t care where you came from, who your parents were, or how many fights you’d won in your village. He cared if you listened, if you pushed yourself and if you had the sense to keep your head down when an axe was aiming for it.” Respect radiated from Daniel’s voice, a sense of loyalty and debt made clear. “Is he still alive?” Daniel chuckled. “Oh yeah. Last I heard he was training some runts in the capital, the next generation of royal knights.”

Henric then returned, stepping back into the forge with a charcoal stub in his hand and a rough plank under his arm. “Seems we’re out of paper.” He’d then notice the look on Callan’s face. “Hope the two of you weren’t gossiping too much while I was gone” He’d joke.

Henric walked over to sit down by the counter within the forge, speaking up and looking at Daniel. “Usual?” To which Daniel nodded. “Add in an extra longsword, I’ll pay on pick-up.” Henric nodding, scribbling down the order best he could on the wooden plank.

“Y’know, while you’re here, care to try talking some sense into the boy?” He’d comment. “He’s better off in the forge, don't you agree?” Callan’s shoulders stiffened as he annoyingly glared at his father. “You just said this morning that it was my choice!” He shot back, Henric shrugging. “Still is, but a little perspective from someone who’s actually worn the armor won’t hurt will it?”

Daniel looked between the two of them, entertained, before cracking a grin. “Well, if the kid sticks to it and wants to join the army, I can put in a good word with my brother, Casper. He’s leading a troop near the coast, good bunch, the lot of em’. If you survive the basic training I’ll make sure he takes you in. Think he’s coming by tonight even.”

Callan blinked, surprised Daniel supported him so easily. “Really?” Henric cutting in. “Was about to ask the same thing, surely you see what I’m saying!” Daniel nodded. “Yeah sure he’s got a knack for it, but he’d make a helluva soldier.” Callan then spoke. “Don’t worry dad, I’ll make up my mind after finishing up the basic training. Is that good enough for you?”

Surprised at the difference from just this morning, Henric chuckled as he nodded. “Finally thinking things through are you?” Daniel spoke after. “Don’t think it’ll be a breeze, you work hard in here but training will be entirely different. Hell, it’ll make this forge feel like a day in the hot springs. And that short temper of yours? No place for it.”

Annoyed at the final comment, but acknowledging it, Callan reluctantly nodded. “Yeah, yeah…” Now standing up, Callan stretched his arms, feeling the tension easing out of his shoulders. “Is the work done for today?” Henric walked around the forge getting things ready for Daniels order. “If you want to run off and play heroes again I’ll let you.” Callan frowned and shot back. “It’s not playing! It’s sparring! I have to keep training!”

Henric chuckled and spoke. “Sure it is. Just don’t waste all your energy, I’ll need you back here later today to help with this order.*

Daniel interrupted. “Oh there’s no rush, you can take your time with this one. Just an advance order since we’re lending out our spares to some adventurers I hired for the Jein lot when they leave later today.” Henric gestured with his hand. “Nonsense, we’ll get it done soon as we can!”

*Catching that last bit as he was leaving the forge, Callan continued stretching himself as he felt the exhaustion still from the forge, a bit sad realizing Phin was leaving sooner than expected... He’d have to see him off later.

Yesterday he’d gone right back home after sparring with Zavier but now he finally had real free time.

Halfway down the road, a thought hit him. Hans had never gotten back to him with the weapons they found in the forest. Slowing his pace, he veered off the road and cut through a gap in the fence that lined the edge of the village, making his way down the familiar trail that they’d often take into the forest with Phin.

He made his way through the forest, quickly looking for the clearing he’d thrown the weapons into earlier, glancing around trying to find where it was.

Finally finding his way back, he looked around in the bushes coming up with nothing. Sighing and taking a step back. “Figures.” He walked over to a nearby tree and leaned on it as he sat down thinking to himself. Either Zavier had gotten the location from Hans or Daniel had found them after leading them back home. Well, tough luck.

He’d relax for a bit, just sitting and enjoying the outside. He’d then remember that he learnt yesterday that the rumors about Phin moving were real, he felt he should probably tell Zavier about that. “Well then…” Callan stood up, brushing the dirt off his clothes before he began moving back towards the village, but before he goes to tell Zavier… He feels the need to find Sara to tell her he’s fine, even though she surely knows already.

Walking back to the village, he quickly noticed the soldiers carriages making their way out towards the path to the Wyvern frontlines, dust trailing behind the wheels. “About time.” He muttered.

He followed the road past the market, making his way to the largest house of the village, with the black iron fence and pale stone front. It belonged to the lord of the land, Sara’s father. It wasn’t the most extravagant home, but it stood out in a village like this, balanced somewhere between comfort and modesty. The lord wasn’t known for wasting coin after all. Most of his wealth went back into the village through trade convoys and merchant contracts.

Sara was sitting on a bench just inside the gate, her feet swinging slightly off the ground, a small journal in her lap. But the moment she spotted Callan coming up the path, she lit up.

“Callan!” she called, leaping to her feet and hurrying to the gate.  “Where have you been?!”

He gave a crooked smile. “Figured I should say hi… Just to let you know I didn’t end up dead.”

Sara pushed open the gate and stepped outside, a smile tugging at her lips. “I heard from Hans and Phin about what happened, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, really.” Callan said with a small shrug. “A bit sore, but that’s unrelated to the forest. Sort of...” he chuckled.

She chuckled along before remembering what Zavier said yesterday. “Oh, have you heard about Phin?”

“Yeah I have, dad told me yesterday.” Callan said, scratching the back of his neck “Daniel also mentioned that they’re leaving later today.”

Sara blinked, caught off guard. “I thought it was tomorrow…”

“I don’t think even my dad knew it was this soon.” he said. “Guess they’re really in a hurry, it is the capital after all.”

Sara’s gaze drifted briefly toward the direction of Phin’s house. “I should stop by their place before they leave. I want to say goodbye.”

“We’ll go later together, we should go get everyone together before then!” Callan said, then gesturing for her to follow him. “We should find Kael, I haven’t seen him since the forest either...”

As the two made their way back toward the village center, Callan noticed he was taking it slower than usual. Maybe it was because of yesterdays sparring or the work in the forge tiring him. Sara, chatting idly beside him about how dry the market had been lately, didn’t seem to mind.

They were rounding the corner near an older couples store when they spotted Hans. He was hauling a crate from the outside to inside the store, sweating quite a bit, proving he’d been at it for a while since he rarely got tired. When he saw them, he stopped and shifted the crate onto a stone ledge with a relieved grunt.

“Hey Callan!” Hans called out. “Not locked in the forge today are you?” Callan responded promptly. “Don’t even mention it, I’ll be stuck there until midnight after I go home.”

Sara stepped forward, hands on her hips. “Are you seriously still running around lifting heavy things? It’s Restday!”

Hans gave a half-smile. “Tell that to Mr and Mrs. Dalen. They’re behind on inventory, so I asked if they needed help before tomorrow, you two got time?”

Callan looked toward Sara, who gave a dramatic sigh and rolled her eyes. “We were heading to the orphanage to see Kael, but if you’re asking for help, I suppose we must.”

Hans nodded. “There’s a lot of things to do, so it’d be a great help!”

Callan grunted. “Fine. This better not take too long, I’m all sore from working in the forge…”

Sara was already stepping over to help with one of the crates outside the shop, Callan stepping in to help her carry it as she couldn’t do it alone. “If we get stuck here longer, you owe us!”

Hans laughed. “I already wanted to pay you back for helping, I promise!”

Together, the three of them lifted the rest of the crates and carried them inside the shop. The work was exhausting, especially for Sara, but Callan made sure she didn’t strain herself.

By the time the final crate was put in place, the sun had moved a great distance, proving the amount of hours that passed.

Callan stretched his arms behind his back, grunting. “Finally!”

Hans wiped his brow with his sleeve. “I’m starting to think they have a secret warehouse stashed somewhere. Where will they put all this when they open those crates tomorrow?”

Sara gave him a playful shove. “You’re lucky we’re friends or I would’ve left to do something else!”

Their light bickering came to a halt when they heard the wheels of a wagon moving through nearby and the sound of horses. They turned toward the sound and saw a carriage making it’s way past the center of the village.

Callan's eyes widened slightly as he saw Erin at the very back of the carriage. “That’s Phin and Erin!”

They ran on the path leading to the main road and caught the carriage just as it slowed to a brief stop. Phin and Erin were seated at the back, from the looks of it, Phin had yelled for the driver to stop, their parents sitting further inside the carriage.

“You’re really leaving now?” Sara asked, slightly out of breath.

Phin nodded. “Yeah. We got everything ready sooner than mom thought, and the adventurers showed up today too.” He’d say, gesturing to the very front of the carriage where three people sat, presumably the driver and two adventurers hired to guard them.

“It sucks that Zavier and Kael aren’t here, I’d hate to miss saying goodbye…” Hans said, arms crossed, feeling bad that he held up Callan and Sara.

Callan gave a quiet nod. “Yeah… I’m sure Zavier will make a huge deal out of missing this…” Now also wondering where exactly Zavier was.

“If he acts up I’ll just deal with him once we visit.” Phin said with an uncharacteristic smirk. “Won’t be too long.”

“We will visit!” Erin added quickly, her voice already shaking. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Sara reached up to gently squeeze Erin’s hand. “You better! It’ll suck with only boys around!”

As the driver called out from the front of the carriage, Phin sighed and stood up on the wooden back step. Erin swiped a sleeve across her cheek and waved both arms now, blinking quickly.

“Don’t be all dramatic about it, we just said we’d visit!” Phin said with a half hearted laugh

“You don’t look like you’re holding up too good either” Hans grinned.

“Shut it.”

Callan smiled, a tired one, but genuine. “See you soon.” Phin smiled back, and for a moment, something cracked through his usual tone. “We’ll meet again soon, I swear it!” he called as the carriage began to roll forward once more, his voice carrying above the clatter of hooves and wheels.

They stood there for a while, the three of them, watching the carriage disappear past the village border.

Far from the village border but close enough to survey it, beyond the trees, a pair of sharp, reptilian eyes watched the road from a craggy outcrop. Krevac lay prone within the bushes. Black scales shimmered subtly beneath the folds of a cloak meant for camouflage, his wings tucked tight against his back.

In the distance he’d spot a carriage leaving the village, wooden wheels creaking in rhythm with the hooves of the tired horses. On the back, just barely visible between the branches, sat a boy and a girl.

Krevac’s gold-slitted eyes softened. The girl leaned slightly towards the boy beside her. Phin and Erin, Krevac remembered their names. He saw as Erin was speaking, hands moving as she talked, her face full of life and free of the fear she’d worn that day in the forest.

Krevac’s jaw shifted, not quite a smile, but something close. He stayed perfectly still, watching only long enough to see them disappear down the path. He made no move to reveal himself.

He turned away from the road and began to move through the narrow path that led deeper into the woods, toward the hidden Wyvern camp. Their camp was quiet, tucked between heavy forested areas, like a crack in the land made by nature itself. The scent of cooked rations lingered in the air. A few tents and a small campfire that marked their temporary home.

Komaic, his brother, was sat against a rock near the edge of camp, resting after having kept his eye on the road all day and having avoided being spotted. His scales bore the same obsidian sheen as Krevac’s.

He glanced up. “The soldiers come in yet?” Krevac shook his head. “Nah. Road’s clear. Not even scouts today.” Komaic frowned. “Thought they were supposed to pass through today.”

“Me too.” Krevac replied.

Before they could say more, a strong wind rushed through the trees. A moment later, Sovek landed at the edge of the camp with a heavy thud. The general of their troop, a gray scaled Wyvern. “Last of the soldiers finally got past to the frontlines.” Sovek announced, eyes sweeping across the two brothers. “The replacements gone in yet?”

“No.” Krevac answered, stepping forward. “Road’s been empty today.”

Sovek narrowed his eyes. “Odd. More should’ve passed through by now.”

Komaic stood. “Could be a change in command. Or something blocking the route.”

“Or they’re getting ready for something worse.” Sovek muttered, folding his arms. As he began contemplating…

This village… it wasn’t just a random speck on the map... Sovek’s mind turned, calculating. They were seven Wyverns, Elite soldiers trained by Drakhan, specifically for raids and recon.

The village? Barely a militia force left. The last unit of Human soldiers had ridden out at dawn. At most, a few local guards remained, barely more than farmhands in armor. Nothing they couldn’t take… and this wasn’t just a cluster of homes and crops, it was a centerpiece for the Humans at the Wyvern front. A checkpoint for supply wagons, traveling knights, and communication lines. Merchants brought materials through it. Scouts passed word to and from the capital. Destroying it wouldn’t just hurt the Humans morally, it would cause a ripple effect.

Cut off trade, delay reinforcements, choke resources. Starve the frontline, even if just for a week. Burn the village, raze the roads, poison the land. And the best part? It would only take one night, no drawn out battle. One decisive strike.

Making up his mind, he laughed as he raised his voice. “Listen up boys! It’s time we strike!

All six heads turned. Krevac instantly felt uneasy.

One of the larger Wyverns, Seryth, cracked his knuckles. “Finally, some damn action.”

Dekarn, another Wyvern, agreed. “Damn right, I’m tired just keeping eyes on the roads! Never any different.” only Krevac and Komaic stayed silent.

Sovek turned toward them slowly, eyeing Krevac first. Wanting to know why they seemed unwilling. The black-scaled soldier met his gaze for a moment, then looked away without a word.

Komaic, crossing his arms, unafraid to speak against him. “We were given orders.” he said. “Observe. Count troops. Report if high-value targets pass through. That’s reconnaissance, what we came here for wasn’t annihilation.”

Sovek stepped closer, towering over Komaic.

“That village is a vein for the Humans, Komaic. It feeds their troops. Slit it open, and let them bleed out. Do you think command will weep if we deliver them a gift of burning timber and some Human blood?”

Komaic didn’t back down. “You don’t know if they’ll see it as a gift or insubordination.” “If command questions us, we’ll just lie.” Sovek said, voice curling into a snarl. “We discovered a weapons cache! We’ll say a scout with important information passed by. We’ll say anything, because they won’t care as long as we teach Humans FEAR. Think about it, they’re vulnerable!”

Komaic still wouldn’t budge. “It’s not our mission, orders are absolute!” Sovek scoffed. “Is that how you see it? You think if we kill some lowly Human scum because what? We disobeyed orders after finding the PERFECT time to land a blow that’ll hurt the Humans?” Komaic stepped in to reiterate their orders, but Sovek stepped forward, pushing him back. “Do you not burn for vengeance after what the Humans do to us every day? What they did to Salazar? Is this how weak your resolve is? He bleeds for us every day and you’re satisfied sitting here counting fools dressing up as soldiers?”

Komaic clicked his tongue and backed off. “Fine…” Before he walked off, Krevac grabbed him by the shoulder and whispered "Keep an eye out on Sovek... Don't let him go overboard."

Sovek snickered. “Coward. Now get going, surround the village and wait for Seryths and my signal.”

Krevac was hesitant, but he couldn’t disobey nor disagree entirely… He figured he’d find a way to get the kids out of the village safely without being noticed, though he'd neglected to inform Sovek about the demon he killed, or the other ones he spotted. And thus, the Wyverns except for Seryth and Sovek dispersed and headed towards the village.

Sovek gestured for Seryth to follow along. “There’s an old ruin nearby here, it’s closed off after a collapse… but empty? Hah, far from it.” He’d say as he led Seryth. “You mean that old cave we spotted the other day?” Sovek nodded. “That’s right. I figure we open it up and let loose the monsters inside, upset them a little. Oughta keep any potential back-up or adventurers on the road busy.” Sovek stated as he laughed. “Once we release them, we’ll get moving towards the village and light it up.”

Phin Pt. 1

The sun had only just begun to dip, casting long shadows over the road where a broken carriage sat at a tilt. Phin sitting on the edge of the cart, tossing a rock up and down in his hand, letting out a sigh.

“Well… That was probably the most awkward goodbye we’ll ever have...” he said, glancing towards Erin sat beside him.

Erin chuckled, nudging his arm. “We’re still close enough to walk back and pretend we forgot something.” they both laughed, the tension of moving already dispersing. Their parents were only a few steps away, talking with the adventurer who had offered to return to the village for a replacement wheel. The carriage driver was getting a small fire started.

Then in the distance, from the village they’d just left, a plume of fire and smoke erupted into the sky above the village. It rose violently, curling into a cloud of soot. Phin stood up so fast he nearly slipped off the cart. Erin's breath caught in her throat, both of them staring wide-eyed.

“W-what… what was that!?” Erin shouted.

“No- no no no…” Phin stuttered, already dropping from the cart and breaking into a sprint. “The village-”

“Phin, wait!” Erin lunged for his arm but missed, stumbling after him. “Phin!”

Their parents called out too, yelling over the crackling of the fire and rising panic. “Phin! Erin! Stop!!”

The adventurer who’d been prepping to leave dropped his pack and charged after them. “I’ll get them! Stay by the carriage!”

But just as he got within arms reach, something lunged from the woods in a blur of green and black, an enormous six-limbed creature with moss-like fur. Its jaws snapped once, and the adventurer was down, it’s flailing claws ripping off Erin’s arm as she cried out, eyes wide at the pain as she witnessed the beast tore into the adventurer without hesitation, flesh and armor breaking under the weight of its bite.

Phin stumbled forward, holding onto Erin as the two rolled on the ground. He pulled her in, noticing her arm had been ripped off, his breathing quickened as he held her close, standing up, as he was about to turn back to the carriage, he saw the enormous monster standing in his way, feasting on the adventurer.

The carriage driver shouted. “Inside! Now!” dragging Phin and Erin’s parents toward the cart as another creature of the same kind crept out of the trees, eyes glowing dimly in the smoke-drenched light.

Phin shifted his attention back to the village and ran, tears in his eyes as he heard the sound of wood breaking apart. Holding Erin as he ran as she faded in and out of consciousness. The best he could do was run away from the monsters that were pre-occupied, hoping the village was safer than it seemed.

Zavier

Sitting with his legs crossed outside his house, he was leaning his back against the wooden wall next to the door, reading Tales of Alvira. He’d read this book more times than he could count, he loved the tales within, from the heroes' journeys to the mythos of great artifacts and wish-granting deities. After all, this was the book that started his dream of becoming a hero.

The sudden crunch of dirt and heavy steps pulled his attention away from the book, who would be visiting him here? Then he heard their voices, not people from the village. He gently closed the book and placed it down without a sound as he snuck to the corner of the house and tilted his head out, getting a look of whoever it was approaching.

Two figures were walking closer to the front of the farmhouse, not paying attention to their surroundings. Wyverns. Zavier froze before stumbling backwards and falling down. The Wyverns attention now focused forward.

“Someone there?!” Dekarn snarled, interrupted by Vaelric. “It’s probably just an animal, this place looks like nothing but a crumbling shack. Obvious that nobody lives here.” Dekarn turned toward him. “True enough. Place will make a good vantage point for Sovek’s signal.” Vaelric nodded.

As the two would approach the corner, Zavier slowly backed away to the opposite end, trying to circle around the farmhouse to get past them.

Once the Wyverns had circled the corner, Zavier had done the same at the opposite end. “Once Sovek sends the signal, we go in and destroy the place. Wanna bet how many of them we kill?” Dekarn joked, though Vaelric nodded. “Winner buys drink?” He’d reply, Dekarn laughing. “You bet!”

Zavier would hear all this before he continued circling around, he’d have to warn the guards in the village. Once at the back of the house, Zavier would make a run for it towards the village through a shortcut in the forest, he was confident in his speed and that he could warn them in time. They’d evacuate before this “Sovek” could send a signal… but once he finally saw the village in sight…

A cloud of flame erupted from the lord’s manor, curling into the sky like a beacon. Zavier froze. What just happened? Was that the signal? These thoughts entered his mind as he tried to take a step forward but his body wouldn’t move. What could he even do down there? He was a kid and this wasn’t Tales of Alvira.

He’d smack his own legs as he grunted. “What am I doing?!” He’d shout. He was scared but that was no excuse, he was useless if he went to the center of whatever this was but he could still do something. He took a look from where he stood and planned his move. He could run through the forest and get to the work portion of the town, checking on Callan at his house and continue that way to reach the orphanage. He took a breath as he ran into the forest again, remembering the pathing. He was panicking, every breath burnt but he had to move forward.

Zavier ran along the forest path, finally closing in on the part of the village where Callan lived. From the outside it looked fine, he felt relief as he walked closer, finally letting his guard down.

As he crept closer, he heard something from inside, rapid movements, but without listening closer- he assumed they were getting things to leave, Zaviers ran up to the door and opened it without hesitating. “Callan- The village-!” He’d yell as he froze. The sight before him far from pleasant.

Seryth stood at the center of the room that had been thrown into chaos, the lifeless body of Callan’s mother beneath him. Clutched in the clawed hand of the Wyvern was Callan’s father, his feet off the ground. Blood trickling down from his throat where the Wyvern had pierced his claws.

It was obvious there had been a fight rather than a one sided attack. The end of a sword deep inside the Wyvern’s side, snapped at the hilt. The Wyvern turned his head slowly, his eyes shining in the dark as his gaze fell on Zavier. “Well… Lookie here…” He drawled, something resembling a grin creeping across his face. “Just as I thought the fun was over.”

He let go of Henric, his body hitting the ground with a loud thud. Blood smeared the floor as it left his body. Seryth, now fully turned towards Zavier, snickered.

Zavier’s body locked up from fear for a split second before he turned to run, his thoughts empty. He had barely made it away from the door before a clawed hand grasped his arm and yanked him up with brutal force, Zavier’s feet lifting from the ground. Zavier let out a pained scream as the Wyvern slowly walked further outside, holding Zavier up.

Zavier would use his free hand, punching at the Wyvern’s hand grasping him to no effect. “Let me go!” He’d whine, tearing up from the pain alone. “Feisty little thing” Seryth mused, holding him like a ragdoll. “Shame you had to see your parents like that huh?” He’d snicker. “You like my work? Already emptied out this place, nobody put up a fight ‘cept your dad. Who knew a blacksmith could fight like that?” He’d have assumed that Zavier was the son of the blacksmith after he came barging in.

Emptied out? Zavier’s heart sank… does that mean…? Callan? All colour drained from Zavier’s expression, despair is the only thing he felt at the idea that his best friend was…

“Oh that look… I love it!” Seryth snarled. Zavier went limp. “That’s it? Your family’s dead and now you’re done fighting back? Geez… Oh well.” opening his free hand, Seryth was about to embed his claws in Zavier’s stomach.

A mere moment after the claws began approaching Zavier, Seryth was tackled by an extreme force.

Zavier was thrown to the ground as he let out a cry, his arm having twisted unnaturally from the impact before Seryth let go. Pain flared as his vision grew blurry.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Shouted Seryth, pulling himself to his feet, claws digging into the ground. The one that tackled Seryth was none other than another Wyvern, scales Jet-black. Krevac. “He’s just a kid, Seryth! We ain’t come here for this!” He shouted.

“For crying out loud you soft moron! They’re Humans! Doesn’t matter if they’re kids, adults or whatever the hell they are! You know what they did to Salazar!” Seryth hissed. “I know what the Humans did, but these kids ain’t done shit! We’re here to observe, not slaughter innocent people, let alone children!”

Seryth snarled as he stepped closer. Zavier was still in a daze as he struggled to get up. “Step aside and obey orders!” Growing agitated, Krevac grabbed Seryth by the collar. “Not following orders is WHY we’re here! Yer’ just making excuses to kill!” He threw Seryth forward as he grabbed his warhammer from his back. Glancing over his shoulder at Zavier who had barely even managed to get up. “The hell’re ya’ doing?! RUN ALREADY!” *He’d shout

Zavier snapped back to reality, clenching his teeth and clutching his broken arm as he stood up, turning away to run. He couldn’t get that image out of his mind. Callan’s parents were dead… and Callan probably was too… He’d look forward, no smoke in the direction of the orphanage… so far so good. “Kael… please… be okay.”

Callan

The ash fell down on the village from the fiery cloud that rose from the lords manor, Callan’s lungs burnt as he sprinted trying to catch up to Sara as he grabbed her by the wrist. “Wait up!” He shouted as he finally stopped her. “But my dad- He was still inside!” She cried out as she tried to force him to let go. “We have to get out of here! Nobody can survive an explosion like that!” Hans finally caught up to the two, he was the slowest one there. “Callan’s right.” He said, catching his breath. “We need to get out of here quickly…” Sara, tears covering her face nodded as Callan tugged on her. “Just follow me, I know a fast way to the forest!” The three of them running, Sara pulled along by Callan.

The three of them dashed through the alleys, dodging the unfamiliar voices as they laughed at this destruction, Callan clenching his teeth in frustration at his own lack of power, but he could save himself with Sara and Hans. “Just past here and we’ll be out-” He’d round a corner and before he could take another step, a Wyvern dropped from the skies right in front of him, his massive frame intimidating him on sight, he quickly let go of Sara and pushed her back into the alley. The Wyvern slowly approached, Callan gripping his wooden sword… If this was it, he’d at least have saved Sara, he thought.

He glanced at Sara who was frozen as she looked back at him. “Run” He’d mouth without speaking. He looked forward again as he drew his wooden sword, it was useless but he couldn’t do anything at this point. The Wyvern scoffed. “How cute…” In a mere moment, Callan flew back, his sword already split into pieces as he lay on the ground, spitting up blood. “Trying to play hero for your girlfriend?” He mocked, slowly walking forward.

Callan groaned as he took a stand, he was done for, that’s for sure. Right as he at least thought he’d saved Sara and Hans, another Wyvern walked out of the Alley laughing, holding up both Sara and Hans who were struggling “Let us go!” Hans shouted, still fighting back, Sara wincing in pain from the Wyverns tight grip. “Perfect timing!” The Wyvern- Sovek, laughed.

“Let’s show this whelp what kind of hero he is!” The Wyvern- Fyric walked closer as he nodded. “Torching em?” he asked, Sovek grabbing Hans by the throat as Fyric let go. “Nah, won’t drive the point home!” He turned back to Callan and walked forward, a tight grip on Hans throat.

Callan lunged forward, Sovek responding in turn with a knee to his face as he flew back again. “Still got some spunk in you? Would’ve made a great soldier if you’d lived a bit longer!” He mockingly laughed. “You’re gonna want to see this…” He’d plunge his free hands claw into Hans stomach as he cried out in agony. “S-Stop…!” Hans tried crying out, his strength leaving his body as Sovek slowly dragged his claws down, blood spilling out, guts shortly following, before dropping him to the ground. “That’s what playing hero got you… was it worth it?” He mocked Callan as he turned. “Hand me the girl!” Fyric began walking over to Sovek, but before he could get close enough to hand over Sara, a figure dashed past Callan and Sovek, embedding his claws in Fyric’s guts and pushing him away aggressively, grabbing onto Sara and gently letting her down.

Fyric gagged, a strangled sound escaping his throat as The Wyvern- Komaic had twisted his claws deep in his stomach before sending him flying. Fyric collapsed in the dirt with ragged breath, eyes wide in disbelief as blood gurgled from his mouth. The suddenness of this betrayal stunned everyone present.

Sovek took a step back. “Komaic?! You dare bare your fangs against your own kind?!” He’d shout aggressively, his anger at a boiling point. Komaic stood tall as he turned back to Sovek, neither of the other Wyverns had seen him coming, he was one of the fastest Wyverns in the army, especially when it came to these sort of attacks. “You’ve all gone too far, first you leave a kid to bleed out, then you gut an unarmed boy in front of his friends? This isn’t even war, you’re just butchering to get a kick of it.”

Sovek scoffed, baring his fangs. “So what? They’re just Humans! We can do whatever we want with them! I’m just getting rid of potential problems!” Komaic narrowed his eyes. “They’re kids, Sovek.”

Whilst the two argue, Sara who was still trembling looked up at Komaic. She couldn’t let out a single word. Another Wyvern had saved her, killed its ally, to save her. Callan wasn’t able to think, he had just seen Hans die in front of him… in such a painful way. He stood up and ran, dashing past Sovek and grabbing Sara by the arm, pulling her with him. He wasn’t able to think but his body moved. He tried to run around the corner, Sovek noticing this took a deep breath, readying a beam of pure explosive fire. “NO-!” Komaic tackled him, Sovek letting out his fire breath as it missed its target but hit the building next to them.

The building that was hit promptly collapsed as Callan and Sara got past the corner, falling onto the two of them. For a second it all went black.

No sound. No Weight. No Pain. Nothing.

Then ringing, he felt the weight of something pushing him down and the pain set in. Callan’s eyes opened, a blurry darkness still surrounding him, the weight of the fallen building pinning him down. His body miraculously not crushed, yet still heavily damaged. He tried to move, crawl but he couldn’t. Even breathing hurt almost too much.

Callan groaned, barely able to turn his head. His neck stiffened and nearly unresponsive. “Please… move…” He screamed in his mind. Nothing, he couldn’t feel his body. He blinked rapidly as his vision returned. “S-Sara…?” He faintly called out, best he could.

In front of him… his arm, broken and crooked but still intact. His fingers clenched tightly around something. A hand. Sara’s hand.

A small part of her arm was visible beneath the fallen beams. Blood slowly crept outward beneath the wreckage. Too much blood.

His breath caught in his throat. “S-Sara…?” He rasped, voice cracking. “P…please… Sara…” No reply

“Please…” He tried calling out, trying his best to move. To do ANYTHING, but he was stuck, couldn’t feel anything but the terror and despair washing over him. “Sara… please… say something…” He finally cracked. “Anything…” Tears streaming down. It was his fault. He led them this way. He pulled Sara over here. He killed them.

Callan’s vision became blurry as his mind trailed off.

Komaic turned to sprint towards the building as it fell, seeing Callan trying to push Sara away from the falling building, but before he could take another step, Sovek grabbed him by one of his wings and with a quick and pull, ripped it off as he hurled him behind him. He turned, striding forward, his rage pulsing like heat. “You’re not going anywhere.” He growled. His voice low, filled with not only anger, but also disgust. He stopped just short from Komaic, looking down at him.

“Like I told that brat…” Sovek knelt down, claws clenched, embers emanating from his mouth. ”That’s what happens when you play hero.” He leaned in. ”Was it worth it?” This time, there was no sign of mockery, these were the words of an executioner.

Before he could take a stand to carry out the execution, Komaic charged forward, ramming his forehead into Sovek’s face. The impact sent him stumbling back, a snarl rising from his throat. Blood dripped from Sovek’s lip as he wiped it with the back of his claw. “You’ve got guts…” he growled. “Shame they’ll be left rotting on the floor once I’m done with you.”

Komaic didn’t reply, he surged forward, his claws flashing as he aimed for Sovek’s stomach. Sovek ducked to the side and punched him in the side of his face. “That's it? Mighty Warrior of The Night my ass.” With a quick extension of his arm, Sovek grabbed Komaic’s wrist, twisting it as he pulled him in, the wrist cracking as Sovek forced his knee into Komaic’s rib, letting go at the same time.

Komaic gasped but rolled back to a stand, lunging forward attempting to scratch Sovek who grabbed his arm, punching him in the stomach. “You saved a Human. Why?!” Sovek shouted, rage coloring his eyes. “You think they’ll repay the favour once they’re grown?! They’ll just slaughter us, like they always have!”

Komaic staggered, breathing heavily. “It’s because of shit like this that they do… You’re just feeding them hate!” Sovek scoffed, blood coating his teeth. “They brought this on themselves, they’re damn pests!” His fists let out a fading dark-green glow. “Whatever. A traitor’s a traitor.” In a quick lunge, Sovek punched Komaic in the face.

The impact felt like one of an entire squadron. Every prior hit from Sovek assaulted him at once as visions flooded his mind. Memories of war, friends he'd lost, family he’d never see again, the injuries he’d sustained. Everything he’d lost because of the war, flooding his brain in an instant as the pain would build up.

Komaic would fall to the ground. Sovek approached. Step by step, the glow dissipating from his fists.

The dull scorched earth cracked beneath Sovek’s steps as he approached the writhing Komaic. Sovek knelt down beside him, silent. There was no satisfaction in his eyes, no grin or mockery. No triumphant speech. Only contempt for the traitor.

Without warning, Sovek drove his claws into Komaic’s stomach and twisted. The sound of muscle tearing filling the empty street. Komaic coughed, blood spilling from his mouth as his strength seized.

Sovek stood slowly, flicking his claws free from traitor blood. “I’ll make sure to let your brat know you died a disgrace to Wyvern-kind.” He muttered. Then he heard it, footsteps. Too many to be his own men.

Sovek turned, six figures approaching cloaked in blackened steal, each bearing the third general's mark. Enforcers of the Demon Army. What were they doing here?

One of the Demon soldiers glanced at the body of Hans. “We were too late.” A somber voice spoke. "So Wyverns took down Devin..." Another spoke, focusing his eyes on Sovek. Without another word, the Demon surged forward with a quickdraw.

His footwork was sharp and each step calculated. His blade slashed in a wide arc aimed at Sovek’s neck.

Sovek ducked back, but two Demons, twins by the looks of it, had already closed in behind him. Their fists wrapped in an electric veil. They both struck him in the back, pushing him forward into the slash he’d attempted to dodge, but it only managed to cut him slightly in the chest. Blood still spraying.

Sovek growled, swiping blindly behind him to get rid of the fast brawler-style fighters, but the two ducked back out of his reach, before he could react, a Demon further away had sent her chain sickle towards Sovek, catching him by the ankle and pulling it hard, causing Sovek to hit the ground hard. Before he could rise, the fifth Demon sent his chained morning star crashing down towards Sovek’s head.

Sovek rolled, barely avoiding the weapon, pulverizing the stone where his head had been seconds before. He leapt to his feet, bloodied yet far from intimidated. “That’s more like it!” He’d quickly notice one of the Demons were out of view. Hearing as it sped through the wind, Sovek batted aside the spear coming at him from the side right before one of the twin brawlers had managed to sink into his blindspot and uppercut him.

Sovek staggered as the Demons had seemingly gotten the upper hand, but he stood tall. He took a breath as he beared the beating he was taking and then let it out, a fiery explosive breath.

The Demon with the morning star charged through the fiery landscape, swinging their morning star, striking Sovek square in the ribs. The force launched him to the side, straight into the extended chain sickle weapon that wrapped around Sovek’s throat as the Demon yanked on it, the two brawler twins surging forward and striking him in the gut.

Sovek laughed, gritting his bloodied teeth, smiling as if he enjoyed all of this. “This is more like it! Come on! Give me more!” He snarled, voice gurgling with blood. This wasn't enough to take him down, the strongest apprentice of Drakhan.

Sovek dug his claws into the chain around his neck, pulling on it with force. The Demon came hurdling in his direction as the swordsman Demon lunged towards him. "No you don't!" He'd declare as he swung his sword towards Sovek.

Sovek grabbed the Demon that came hurdling towards him and threw her into the blades range. "NO-!" The swordsman screamed as they felt their blade run through their own comrade as Sovek ducked back before lunging forward again, opening his mouth as he tilted his head, biting into the swordsman's neck and casting them aside.

Sovek wiped the blood from the edge of his mouth, spitting out parts of the Demons throat. "Disgusting..." He muttered as one of the twin brawlers roared, barreling into him with their fists. Sovek let them get close, grabbing one of their arms and with an open palm using a motion akin to an uppercut, letting his claws rip through their jaw and make it up to their brain, letting it spill everywhere.

The morning star yet again flying towards him, he attempted to block it but the strength behind it was too great. Sovek barreled to the side, utilizing the speed of which he had been sent. Once the other twin brawler predictably tried to hit him mid-flight, Sovek reached out and grabbed them by the throat, sending them down onto the ground, holding on to kill his momentum, then driving his claws into their throat until their head was practically separated.

The spearman desperately charged at Sovek with a flurry of attacks, landing a lot of them, wounding Sovek a dangerous amount. Then a glint sparked in Sovek’s eyes.

He caught the spear, pulling it close and piercing their stomach with his claws, twisting before lifting them into the air, slamming them down violently.

Slowly he turned towards the last Demon, the morning star already too close to dodge, aimed for the head.

Before the morning star hit, another Wyvern yanked at the chain, grabbing it and spinning, twisting it back towards its user. Ripping through the skull of the last Demon.

Seryth had rescued Sovek, who was barely able to stand, but Seryth didn’t look too good either. “Was that them all?” Seryth asked, out of breath and seemingly as exhausted as Sovek. “Yeah. You run into trouble too?” He asked.

Seryth nodded. “That damn Krevac, saved a Human kid. Put him down but the kid got away.” Sovek scoffed. “Both brothers are Human sympathizers, who could've guessed…” glancing at Komaic’s body. “Anyone left?" Seryth shook his head. "Other than the kid that got away? No. Dekarn and Vaelric took down the guards, Vaelric got done in though, seems one of the guards was frontline material." Sovek nodded. "Four casualties, not bad eh?" He'd laugh.

Seryth nodded "Not bad with two traitors around and a Demon troop. Hell were they doing here?" Sovek shrugged as he began walking, clearly exhausted. "Hell if I know, let's get outta here. Don't wanna be here once the monsters close in."

Phin Pt. 2

Phin stumbled through the road, legs giving out beneath him as he collapsed near the village, finally having made it. The sight was too much for him, past the distance, all he could see was the back of three Wyverns.

The fires in the distance are far from over. His arms trembled, wrapped tightly around Erin’s limp body. She was still breathing, he could feel it… but she’d lost so much blood…

“Erin… Please.” He whispered, lowering her gently to the ground as his arms were about to give out. Her breathing was shallow, barely there. Tears streaked down Phins dirt-covered face. “Please wake up… Don’t leave…” No response.

“I’m sorry I kept pushing you away… I’m sorry, so please. Wake up!” He shouted to no avail.

Footsteps followed from behind, Phin flinched and turned, his arms too weak to grab onto the crossbow. A man. Slender in build. Approached slowly.

He tilted his head as he spoke, his smile calming. “Do you want to save her?” Phin blinked, his voice cracked as he desperately spoke through the tears. “Y-yes- Please!” He remembered the sounds of the carriage being ripped apart by the monster. “She-” He sobbed. “She’s all I have left…” He couldn’t imagine anyone surviving the scene behind him. “She’s the only one… left…” He could barely speak.

The man knelt down next to Phin, gently brushing some hair from Erin’s face. His expression was stagnant. “I can’t promise anything young one…” The man spoke. Phin’s heart dropped. “If you want me to save her, I’ll do what I can… But.” He stood up as he place his hand on Phins head.* “Do know, there’s a price for survival…”

Epilogue

The village had been ruthlessly raided

Callan was found beneath the wreckage of what once had been a home. His breath was shallow, his ribs shattered. Blood spread across his face and arm, one hand grasping the arm of a deceased child. He was unconscious when he was found.

It was Casper Feris who found him, uncle to Hans Feris and brother of Daniel Feris. He had arrived with a small troop as part of an intended training regimen for Adasday; he'd come too late to stop the massacre, but arrived just in time to save Callan.

It had taken far longer than it had needed to, as monsters had been wreaking havoc just outside the village, delaying his arrival by hours.

Callan was taken back to the capital after being treated by a Cleric for a few days. Once he’d woken up, he did not cry. He did not speak. His recovery was slow. Casper stayed by his side, taking a leave from his post by the merman front. For months, Callan was stuck in bed, barely able to move despite the Clerics doing their best. Once he could, he began training. Swinging sticks in the backyard of Casper’s home, ignoring all the pain he felt.

Casper saw as the boy changed from broken to motivated.

Eventually, he was introduced to Aeric Eivil, a man Callan had been told about by Daniel the same day everything fell apart. A warrior of unmatched talent, a master of highest standards but with the most care of them all. Callan’s first words to him were simple.

“Please train me. I have a debt to repay… and an enemy to kill.”

Fire burning in his eyes, a motivation unlike any that Aeric had seen before, it’s safe to say he didn’t hesitate to accept him into the Royal Knight program.

The training was ruthless. Aeric made no accommodations for his injuries, treating him no different from anyone else he taught. He was being broken down to be rebuilt. He learnt what Daniel had meant that day, he was being taught to survive. Not to win.

A year passed, and his village was slowly forgotten to the masses. Just another village that got caught up in the war, but he’d never forget. The people who died there, his family and his debt to Sara and Hans for getting them killed… But a thought began to linger, Phin and Erin had never made it to the capital, Zavier and Kael were also nowhere to be seen that day.

One night after training, Callan begged Aeric to search for them.

“It’s probably useless but… I never saw them that day… They could still be alive somewhere… right?”

Aeric was sure they were probably dead, but he couldn’t tell him to give up on it. He agreed.

“I’ll send out a search party.”

It only took a few months to find Zavier. He was broken. He thought he’d lost everyone again. Yet he still got to live.

He remembered the day of the raid, Callan’s parents, the Wyvern that almost killed him, then Kael’s hand, slipping right out of his as they were so close to escaping. The sound of Kael’s screams is always replaying in his head.

It was a miracle Zavier had made it out alive. He had no idea how or why.

He’d been picked up by travelling merchants who took him to an orphanage at the edge of the Thaerian border, somewhere far from his home, but even here, he couldn’t move forward.

It was however in this orphanage, the same room he never left, where he’d reignite a spark of hope.

Aeric Eivil had one day come here, looking for him by name. He didn’t know how he knew it or why he cared until he spoke.

“Callan asked me to find you.”

Callan had survived. He hadn’t lost everyone… Without speaking a word, he cried. He wasn’t alone.

The reunion wasn’t what either of them expected. Zavier was no longer able to stand side-by-side with Callan. He’d been laying around doing nothing. He’d allowed grief to change him while Callan used it to push forward.

There was a rift between them now that pained them both. Callan had become tougher. He was always a bit temperamental but now he was focused on becoming stronger, never letting himself enjoy a moment. Zavier understood his pain, although the two assumed they’d never be as close again, they would remain friends.

For a while, Zavier struggled to find his place among the soldiers. He was weak and fragile. He wasn’t alone anymore, he had Callan but the two never re-connected properly despite remaining friends. Eventually, Alyssa Hughes, the princess, would catch him hiding in a part of the palace. That’s where the two first talked and became friends. Sharing their burdens, regrets and everything with each other. She listened to Zavier, and he listened to her.

It was in these quiet moments where Zavier finally opened up, finally let himself speak about that day. And mentioned the Jet-Black Wyvern that had saved his life. As it turns out, Callan had also mentioned a Jet-Black Wyvern once, one that saved him as well.

This is when Zavier and Callan began reconnecting. Having finally spoken about that day, he was able to move forward, trying harder than ever before. They were both saved by The Jet-Black Wyvern. Though they both met a different one, neither knew what happened to them, and thought they were speaking of the same one.

Though it was through Zavier's re-telling of the events that told Callan about Kael, that he was most likely dead too.

Zavier finally moved on. He began joking, messing around, playing the fool to make others feel better… which eventually allowed Callan to lighten up, though both were clearly still changed from that day.

Phin was the last to be found of the three. He’d been going between towns, learning about and selling his knowledge on monsters as well as hunting a few.

He was the most changed of them all, from what anyone could piece together, he’d witnessed his whole family die and he couldn’t do a thing about it. During the search process, Aeric had discovered the existence of a mercenary who’d taught Phin everything he knew before letting him run around on his own, Phin didn’t mention any specifics but said he’d be dead without him.

Once Phin learnt that Callan and Zavier were alive, he didn’t hesitate to follow Aeric back to the capital. The three became inseparable like brothers, when Phin qualified for the Elite Squad, he nominated Callan and Zavier, implying he’d turn down the position if they didn’t get a fair shot. Sure enough, they too qualified and the three trained together since then.

Zavier and Callan had stopped competing over who’d become the strongest, they trained together and improved their teamwork. Phin used the knowledge he’d learnt from his mysterious master to help them improve, surprising even Aeric at times, but this mass amount of knowledge and strategic capability is what earned him the nomination as leader of the Elite Squad, though he’d lose the position to Alyssa.

Whenever Callan or Zavier attempted to ask about the Jet-Black Wyvern, Phin would refuse to answer but failed to hide that he knew who they were talking about. In his eyes after all, Krevac was the most likely suspect to the village having been raided.

On that day, the three had vastly different experiences but it led them all here. They were in position to help turn the tides, and expectations were high. Callan was strong but he never felt he was enough. Zavier was weak and worked harder than the rest to stand by the side of his friends. Phin lacked trust, but he knew how to utilize everyone to their fullest.

Even though they’d changed, they were now working harder than ever to make a change in the world. The three survivors of a forgotten village. Three Brothers, of the Southpass Village.