《Anathema of the Eldritch [DROPPED (sadly)]》


 Prologue

    <h1>Prologue</h1>


    On a rainy day in a small village a boy was walking through the streets. He stood 1 meter and 80 centimetres tall, had dark brown hair and his dark brown irises were only broken by his pupil and the whites of his eye.


    Seemingly lost in thought, he wasn¡¯t aware of his surroundings, as his eyes were only focused on the small notebook in his left hand. He carefully turned the pages over to look at all the irredeemable nonsense he had been wasting this leather-bound notebook on for the last six months.


    Scribbles of fleeting images hypothesizes on absolute ludicrous theories and descriptions of concepts that even a child would find impossible to create. Yet he had written it all down, he had used every page to immortalize those ludicrous thoughts, and he had enjoyed every moment of it.


    He walked down the sidewalk with a grin on his face and his eyes focused solely on the notebook in front of him.


    His senses dulled by the rain and his nonsensical scribbles, he did not hear the screams coming from across the road, he did not see anything but the booklet, he only felt the impact.


    In his last moments in this world, he heard a voice. It was clear despite the sounds of the rain, the shouts of people running towards him and the high-pitched ring that had overtaken his ears. The voice was all around him, it surrounded his mind and penetrated through the blurry haze that the concussion had given him, and it asked him one question.


    ¡°What do you value more, your memories or your thoughts?¡±


    Yet where a matter of the heart reigned supreme, another place didn¡¯t require the judgement of a jovial and slightly off teen, instead it required the guidance of an old and wise leader.


    In all the vastness of the realm beyond earth, only one man could be found which fit this description. Old yet sharp, wise yet eager, and charismatic yet humble. He was a man that had lived through centuries of watching over his domain, yet when the time once again arrived to fight those that sought to harm it, he couldn¡¯t.


    The reason, or reasons, for his passiveness were sitting right in front of them, having a heated discussion about hot air.


    ¡°Damnit Halian, I know this can only be you! No one¡¯s farts smell this bad!¡±


    The old one sighed as he looked at the druid¡¯s reddening face, the scorn filled expression of the female knight, and sighed again.


    He straightened his back and sat upright in his chair, which, surprisingly, immediately silenced the bickering youths. Well, if you call being close to two centuries old young.


    The room immediately silenced as seven mouths shut and seven pairs of eyes were directed at him.


    ¡®Had they thought me asleep? They don¡¯t cause such a ruckus when I¡¯m around.¡¯


    The old one gave up on the notion of seeing these centuries old leaders as adults, as they had clearly failed to provide a reason for him to. They acted like scared children in front of the big adult when he was around, instead of the authoritative figures, or at least the young adults, they are meant to be.


    He caught their attention with a wave of his hand, and a parchment appeared in his hand.


    ¡°Brothers, sisters, we stand at the front of a rushing sea made from hordes upon hordes of monsters the likes we haven¡¯t seen since the siege of Beinn Ranncrith. The creatures of the wastelands are stirring, yet we don¡¯t know what has caused this.¡±


    He was met with the understanding gazes of seven individuals, they had seemed to swap from children arguing on the playground to the adults, or young adults, they were.


    ¡®Maybe there is hope for them yet.¡¯


    The old one relaxed for a moment, before adding with a soft tone:


    ¡°So, what will we do?¡±


    The question had lit a fuse under the table, as all seven representatives burst up from their charge and announced their ideas. It quickly became a chorus of unintelligible cacophony, making the old one swallow his words.


    He was about to intervene, as the voice of the young knight rose above the others and silenced them.


    ¡°I say we attack those damned goblins, orcs, and whatever else the wastelands throw at us! The kingdom of Eleanor has endured the green tides for centuries, and we will do so for centuries to come!¡±


    Yet the fire in her eyes was quickly dimmed as the person opposite her retorted.


    ¡°I get your point, yet we should look for more solutions than to simply ¡®endure¡¯. The tree¡¯s roots may be endless, but our numbers, defences or equipment aren¡¯t. I suggest that we bolster the defences on our southern border by recruiting from the smaller villages, and by deploying a regiment of dryads to...¡±


    He couldn¡¯t even finish his sentence, as the druid¡¯s face lit up once again.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°Lyrian, how dare you ask the world tree for help?! We can¡¯t ask the world tree to defend us! It has already graced us enough with allowing us to reside in these sacred woods, it would be arrogant to ask more of it!¡±


    A gruff looking man to Halian¡¯s right supported him.


    ¡°He¡¯s right. We can¡¯t always hide behind the world tree, if we did, it would wither faster than your clan¡¯s trustworthiness.¡±


    ¡°Oh really? In that case what do you suggest, Malar?¡±


    The rugged man smiled.


    ¡°I agree with you on the first thing, we should bolster our defences along the southern border, yet we could also get help from somewhere else. I suggest that we have the northern kingdoms send out expeditions into the wastelands to grind down the number of monsters there. Vassals states should be useful for something right?¡±


    Lyrian eyes flared.


    ¡°So, we¡¯re going to leave the human kingdoms exposed? If they suffer defeat, they wouldn¡¯t have enough strength to hold their own.¡±


    Malar¡¯s smile only widened.


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be such a killjoy. We both know that if there is any race that can match the fertilization rate of the gobs, it would be the dinol. Besides, those pink meat bags have been doing fine on their own, what¡¯s a few more or less to them?¡±


    Yet his smile quickly faded as the man opposite of him burst up from his chair and announced with a loud voice.


    ¡°What are you, nuts? If we leave the human kingdoms exposed to go on these ¡®expeditions¡¯ you speak of, we won¡¯t have any trade! We will lose our supply of food, ore, salt, pepper, sugar, equipment, alchemic catalyst and so much more! We can¡¯t produce everything in the forest, half our population would starve to death! So, ¡®a few more or less¡¯ may not be important to you in your ivory tower, but it is to us!¡±


    The man took a slight breath and widened his focus from the man opposite of him to the other seven figures.


    ¡°I suggest that we hire mercenaries, adventurers, maybe even a mage guild just to stem the tide. We could even buy combat slaves and have them act as meat shields!¡±


    Yet where his remarks were previously met with agreement, the last sentence killed any empathy the other figures had, as they rose up like one and drowned the room in their overbearing discourse, returning it to the chorus of incoherent gibberish it once was.


    The old one sank back into his chair, staring past all the figures in the room, and into the forest beyond. His mind travelled through the endless sea of roots like a fish through water, yet he was abruptly returned to his body as his soothing dive was shattered by a scream of agony echoing through the woods.


    The powerful emotions had been clear, as the desperate wails mounted the stage for a cry of desperation, shocking even the old one for a moment, before returning him to his body.


    The cry had startled him, yet it had also cleared his mind, and it reminded him why he was even attending these meetings.


    With a voice filled with vigour and frustration he shouted: ¡°Silence!¡±


    His thoughts reached out to his duties, yet the scream of anguish that had awoken his vigour was invoked by something he couldn¡¯t do anything against. It was something natural, yet cruel and quite audible. The tranquillity of the night was broken by the soft sobbing of a woman and the relentless comforting of a man.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, it¡¯s not your fault. It¡¯s not your fault.¡±


    He held her close, whispering sweet words into her ear as tears rolled down his cheeks. He said it again and again, not even noticing that his wife had long fallen asleep from exhaustion, both mentally and physically.


    He finally opened his eyes, only to find a sleeping beauty in his arms. He quietly laid her down on the bed, only to quickly distance himself from both her, and the deformed heap of flesh that stained the other end of the bed.


    With a downcast expression and silent steps, he exited the room and headed for the kitchen where it took him only seconds to find what he wanted. The bottle hit the wooden table hard, creating a soft *thump* that resounded through the room.


    He pulled back one of the chairs, sat down, and slumped down on the table, crying into his arms, muttering something about ¡®weak¡¯ and ¡®stupid¡¯. His mourns lasted for several more minutes, filling the rooms with silent wails of desperation and filling his eyes with water as his cheeks were flooded by his emotions.


    The liquor only fuelled his emotions, causing his soft mumbling to turn into drunken gibberish, only broken by the occasional sob.


    Yet his drunken wails were disturbed by a cry from outside. It wasn¡¯t of pain, sadness, nor any other negative emotion. It was a cry that solicited help. His mind sobered up as he turned towards the source of the cry, finding that it originated from outside.


    He ran towards the source, yet in his drunken stupor it took him more than a minute to cross the small room. He stumbled several times, before finding purchase on the oaken door. His hands searched for the handle, finding it after an excruciating long time.


    He opened it immediately, slamming the door against the wall in his clumsiness. He winced at the sound it created, yet shivers ran down his spine when he finally looked for the origin of the sound.


    He did not find it, yet what he did find was a spider. A spider the size of a dog, with pure white skin reflecting the moonlight like marble, and small specks of white in its empty eye sockets.


    His eyes widened, staring at the pale creature in front of it. He knew what is was, yet he couldn¡¯t figure out what it was doing here, especially making such noise.


    ¡®Had they evolved to attract people with the sound of a crying child?¡¯


    Another cry ran out, fixating his gaze at his feet where a small basket had been lain on the floor. He had all but forgotten about the spider, as he carefully yet hurriedly removed the blanket.


    The blanket was quickly pulled away, slightly tearing in the process, yet when he saw the contents he found himself overwhelmed by emotions.


    He looked upon the pale skin of the creature below, gawking at the deep brown eyes which captivated his own for minutes. His thoughts were jumbled as he couldn¡¯t begin to comprehend what is was doing here.


    ¡®It¡¯s a-a dinol¡­ a baby.¡¯

 Chapter 1

    <h1>Chapter 1</h1>


    It remained in darkness, staring into the empty void ever since it had arrived here. Well, it wasn¡¯t sure where ¡®here¡¯ was. It knew it should be somewhere, should it? It didn¡¯t know anything besides the emotions that had welled up in it the first time arrived, they were overwhelming, numbing at its mind even now.


    It didn¡¯t know when, or where for that matter, but there had been a beginning. This endless landscape of emptiness had started somewhere, yet with each passing moment it seemed more and more likely that the void was endless. The only thing that had kept it occupied was the feeling that there was more to the beginning, that a beginning meant and end, and an end meant an escape.


    So, it focused more and more on the beginning, recollecting what it had felt, thought and seen.


    The most precious thing it had, the only thing that resided in its mind besides the maelstrom of emotions, the only thing that gave it any stability.


    The clearest picture it had ever seen, a myriad of colours, outlining something akin to a red stripe with a white background, the perfect outlining blackened by the new-born¡¯s inept sight, and the line between the clear white and deep red was as beautiful as it was blurry.


    It did not know whether it was blurry or sharp, beautiful or ugly, it was the only thing it knew aside from the instincts that haunted its mind. They would continuously call out different emotions, fear of the void, uncertainty to what it was, dread for being unable to see more of the red and white that contrasted against the uniform blackness, and a will. A will to keep the picture, a will to retain the crystal-clear outlining, a will to immortalize.


    Yet with time passing, the being came to know the concept of ¡®blur¡¯, as the crystal-clear picture become more and more what it was, a blur of colours mashed together by either a child or a modern artist.


    An untold amount of time passed, and the dark outlining continued to encroach on the white, enveloping it in the never-ending void that had surrounded it since it came here. The picture continued disappearing, making the instincts roar louder and louder as the only thing that tethered it to the beginning of this endless expanse was fading away.


    Its instincts screamed for it to do something, yet it didn¡¯t know what. It did all it could to retain the picture, yet the edges were blackened by the void around it, it encroached upon the only thing that it knew, and it tried to make it disappear.


    An emotion welled up inside that it hadn¡¯t felt in a long time, yet it reminded it of the beginning. It felt the fear that had cut its breath short, it felt the uncertainty that had elicited its wails, and it felt the despair that had caused it all, the despair that had made him forget everything but the picture.


    It was frightened of the despair, yet it was the thing closest to the beginning, it was even closer than the picture, closer than anything was. For it, despair was the beginning, and it ran away from it.


    Yet, beyond the beginning that was only an empty void, so it stood at a crossroad. It would either plunge itself into the emptiness of the void, never feeling anything, never seeing anything but the contrast of the fading blurry picture, never touching anything but the vacant darkness.


    Or, it could reach beyond, experiencing the myriad of colours it desired, the despair it feared, the uncertainty it dreaded, and the thoughts that it loved.


    ¡®Thoughts? What is¡­ thoughts?¡¯


    It didn¡¯t know what, yet something drove it on to go to these thoughts. It slowly approached the beginning, it felt the fear, uncertainty, dread and despair that accompanied the beginning.


    Yet the closer it came, the more the beginning seemed to shift. It changed, it shifted from the collective fear that numbed his consciousness to something else. Feelings that were foreign yet natural washed over it, it enjoyed the ecstasy from fleeting drumbeats, it flinched at the creeping frost, it tingled at the warm rays of light, and it startled at the sudden enlightenment it gained at the centre of the beginning, the true origin of it.


    Its mind was flooded with a sudden comprehension of the things it felt, it was suddenly more than a bundle of uncontrolled emotions and instincts, it gripped the maelstrom of unbridled desires and with a push of its mind, it broke apart.


    The raging instincts and wayward emotions broke apart like a cloud formation, letting the thoughts he had longed for shine through upon his mental landscape.


    The beginning widened and widened as the new emotions, sensations, impulses, as everything washed over him. The void stood solemnly behind him, looming over him like the ever-present vacancy of sensations it was.


    He walked through the beginning, and entered a whole new world of emotions, urges, theories, concepts, and desires. The small repertoire of sensations he had gained at the beginning couldn¡¯t compare to what he was feeling at this moment, he had never felt these sharp sensations, one body part in particular was overwhelmed by the new environment as it inhaled quickly, trying to ban the new itching prickles, only to receive a larger dose than before.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    Panic set in, and it acted on instinct.


    It wailed as loud as it could, trying to call for help. He didn¡¯t know what it did, yet he let it continue.


    He watched as the ball of emotions and instincts acted on its own, muddling his mind with fear and uncertainty, yet he let it retain control. He didn¡¯t know what to do, it did.


    Instead, he entertained himself with questions about basically everything. Who or what was he, where was he and, how did he know all of this?


    The question that had plagued him since the moment he had been able to think. The thoughts were all supported by one thing or another, yet he didn¡¯t know where that information came from. He didn¡¯t know what a he was, nor did he know why he called it an it.


    What was the difference between them? Was he himself because he could think? Then, what were these ¡®thoughts¡¯? Could it learn about these thoughts as well? Could it become a he like him, or would it always stay an it?


    His thoughts were becoming more and more jumbled, until it suddenly stopped wailing.


    He stopped his thoughts and looked. He saw something wonderful, he saw colours again.


    It had opened the window to that colourful place again, letting the light stream in like a river.


    ¡®I should really ask it how it does that, I want to see more.¡¯


    He looked towards the large tree that loomed over them, towards the green that surrounded him and it, and towards the dark night sky that stretched above everything, providing a spectacle to behold with its thousands upon thousands of sparkling lights.


    ¡®This is better than the emptiness, way better.¡¯


    He was mesmerized by the dark expanse, he had no idea how long he had spent in the void, yet he felt like all that anguish, all that emotionless vacancy had been replaced by the lights dotting the sky, warding over him like a doting mother.


    ¡®Wait¡­ What is a mother? And, do I have one?¡¯


    His thoughts grinded to a halt as he saw why it had stopped wailing. It wasn¡¯t because of the night sky, it was because something loomed over them. It had silver grey hair, a dark complexion, eyes that matched his hair, and an expression full of shock.


    He returned the aghast expression of the man above him with one himself. He hadn¡¯t seen anything like it, was it the same as him and it? Or was it something else?


    Curiously enough, it wasn¡¯t affected by the man looming over them the same way he was, instead it was overjoyed. It squealed in delight, reaching their arms out and grabbing for the man.


    This action prompted he to break out of his stupor and look at it with shock.


    ¡®Why is he doing that? Isn¡¯t this dangerous? Well, it seems to be working, so let¡¯s go along with it.¡¯


    He let it go about its way, as it seemed that it knew what is was doing. Fortunately, it did.


    The large man stammered something, before picking them up and taking them inside the colourful space. His long arms swung them like leaves on the wind, causing both he and it to wail as they were shaken up by the man carrying them.


    They quickly arrived at what seemed to be a cage with a blanketed floor, yet before they could be put into said cage, another voice resounded through the room.


    The man quickly turned, much to their dismay, yet salvation wasn¡¯t far away, as the turn revealed their saint.


    A woman stood in the doorway, glaring angrily at the man, but the moment she saw them, her expression changed from anger, to shock, to sadness, and finally, to delight.


    She stormed over, grabbing them out of his hands gently, before glaring at the man.


    She spoke in a hurried gibberish, scolding the man and leaving both he and it stunned at the situation. He was crestfallen, as he could only hope that she wasn¡¯t mad at them, that she wouldn¡¯t leave them.


    ¡®Wait, why am I afraid? Why am I scared of her leaving?¡¯


    Question invaded the mind, as he tried to comprehend what he was feeling, while it had already moved on, giggling at the woman and reaching for her face.


    The woman¡¯s face seemed very pleasant, yet tired. Her eyes were half-closed, bags had formed under her eyes, and it was clear that she had been crying by her bloodshot eyes.


    He didn¡¯t know how, but he knew that she was sad. He didn¡¯t know why she was sad, tired or bloodstained, but he wanted to thank her, so they did their best to get her attention, to cheer her up.


    He didn¡¯t know where to start, yet it was, again, already a step ahead of him. It stretched their arms out again, grabbing for the woman and making soft sulking noises. He realized once again that it was a natural at this kind of stuff, the woman noticed their efforts, and her anger melted. Her stoic behaviour and angry expression changed to a gentle smile accompanied by soft whispers as she quietly made her way over to the cage.


    The rhythmic beating along with the sway of her step caused them to become drowsy, he noticed that he was slowly drifting away. It wasn¡¯t like an endless drift in the void, it was more like a gentle push into inactivity, a feathery fall from being invaded by thoughts, question and answers, to a place where the mind would be free from its shackles and where it could enjoy the most ludicrous of theories and the vaguest of drawings come to live.


    Yet before they drifted off to sleep, the woman surprised them once more.


    She reached down, lowering her face towards theirs.


    Her lips touched their forehead, and a feeling of delight spread throughout their body. It was giggling like a maniac, reaching for the woman above them once again.


    He only grew more and more faint after her kiss, he did not know why, yet he accepted the woman looming over him. It joined him, and they together accepted the woman looming over them continuing her gentle whispers, they accepted her as their protector, their haven, their mother. They had no idea who she was, why she was so kind to them, nor if she would continue to do so, yet they had unanimously decided that she was the one they would love, she was the safe-haven to where they would run if things went downhill, she was their mother.


    He might not have known it, yet he had gotten all he asked for. He was there, He had retained who he was. He had come to live once again.

 Chapter 2

    <h1>Chapter 2</h1>


    The day began as any other for Lyvia Theandor, albeit a little slow. She didn¡¯t remember what happened last night, yet she still felt the aftereffects. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling for a few moments, trying to remember what happened last night. She and Grey were very excited, as the baby had been growing quickly.


    Yet as she tried to sit upright, pain equivalent to a needle being stabbed through your skull shot through her, breaking the quiet and peaceful surroundings with a loud and agitated moan.


    ¡®By Eleanor my head is killing me! What the hell happened last night?¡¯


    She pulled back the blankets and stood up, yet she quickly fell back down on the blankets as she failed to properly balance her weight. She felt that something was, different. She couldn¡¯t say what, yet she knew something was different.


    She looked down, expecting to find a bloated belly with a baby inside, only to find a flat surface. Her mind raced trying to remember what happened last night, only to be abruptly pulled from her thoughts by the loud snoring of her husband. Surprisingly, it came from the kitchen.


    She stormed over, already having forgotten that her stomach wasn¡¯t the bloated pregnant outcropping it should be. She walked as fast as her unsteady feet could carry her, she was ready to scold her husband like the misbehaving teenager he was, yet she stopped halfway.


    She stood in front of a wood carved crib, engraved with small insignia¡¯s, intricate woodcarvings and a name. She had always hoped to fill the crib with a child of her own, yet what she found brought up a maelstrom of emotion in her.


    In the crib lay a small child, yet it wasn¡¯t hers. The normally brown complexion of a dark elf was missing and instead the baby was pale white, its hair was auburn brown instead of the silver she had, it was clear to her, this wasn¡¯t her son.


    She felt anger, confusion, disgust, and deep down, she even felt delight. Her confusion only grew as she felt the pleasure was over her, curving her gaping mouth into a gentle smile for but a moment, before returning to the shocked demeanour she had several moments ago.


    ¡®Why in the hell is there a baby in the crib that isn¡¯t ours?! How in the hell did a dinol get in here?! Why is it in the crib?! And why am I happy!?¡¯


    She stormed towards Grey, hoping to find answers and a very, very good explanation.


    Yet the morning wasn¡¯t kind to her, as she was met with another surprise. Grey was sitting at one of the five kitchen chairs, with multiple bottles of liquor surrounding him.


    ¡®I thought he quit after settling down? He said he never wanted another drop again.¡¯


    She stood there silently for several moments, contemplating about what could have gone down last night. In the end she reached a conclusion, she didn¡¯t know, and it was pointless to just stand there and do nothing.


    ¡®I better clean up a bit, get a glass of water and try to wake him up. I just hope he doesn¡¯t have a blackout from drinking too much.¡¯


    She may have been mad at him for drinking too much and getting a hangover, yet after trying to clean for 5 minutes and only succeeding in throwing the liquor bottles in the trash, the trashcan being the window for a change, she felt quite the hypocrite.


    ¡®Well, this isn¡¯t going to work. Let¡¯s just get another glass of water and sit down, I think we both have a hangover after last night. I don¡¯t even remember what happened, did we hold a drinking contest or something?¡¯


    So, she waited for several minutes, hoping that her husband would awoke from his comatose slumber.


    During that time, she was becoming increasingly worried as the same questions continued to bug her. She thought about the liquor that her husband had avoided for over a decade, only to end up drinking more than a neamrach one night.


    She chuckled.


    ¡®Well, it wouldn¡¯t be the first time he challenged a neamrach to a drinking competition. It was surprisingly easy to earn their respect when your alchemist can drink more than them. Those stubby little legs and sharp eyes really do carry a heart of gold.¡¯


    Stray thoughts continued popping up in her groggy mind, cluttering her psyche with pleasant memories, delightful thoughts and a sense of peacefulness. She simply stared at the wall behind her husband, content with wallowing in her past, as she had enjoyed her life more than others.


    Yet the present did not escape her, as the emptiness filling her mind birthed thoughts of worry, anxiety and fear. She looked down once again, finding an post-pregnancy stomach, and she cried.


    She had seen it, she had seen the bloodied sheets, she still felt the combination of pus, blood and amniotic fluid sticking to her legs. She knew what happened, yet she didn¡¯t want to believe it, she didn¡¯t want to believe that her child had died, the thing they had worked so hard for, the one thing they had given up their freedom for, a quiet family life, had been shattered.


    ¡®Why, why can¡¯t I just give birth to a healthy child?! Why can¡¯t mine live?! What did I do to deserve this fate, what did I do that requires the sacrifice of my children?! What?!¡¯


    Her lips began to quiver, her brows furrowed, and her complexion grew pale. She lifted a hand up into the air and slammed it down into the table in rage. The silence was broken by wood being smashed to pieces, accompanied with a cry of anguish.


    ¡°What did I do to deserve this fate?! What in Eleanor¡¯s name gives anyone the right to take away my children?! Why must they die!? WHY?!¡±


    The tranquillity that had ruled over the home was shattered, the despair in her voice travelled on for kilometres, breaking the peacefulness of the forest and replacing it with an anxiety that filled its inhabitants. Even the trees themselves seemed to fear her as they stopped their rustling leaves, leaving the woman alone in a silence that was only broken by the sound of her own breath.


    Yet her scream wasn¡¯t unheard, as another sound contested her loud breathing.


    She turned towards the source of her high-pitched contestant, seething with rage, only to have it be quelled by the sight of the small babe in distress.


    She stood over the wailing baby with conflicted emotions. She felt delight looking at the small thing, she felt worry at its squirming, she felt the need to calm him, to wipe away his tears, to hold him close, yet she didn¡¯t.


    ¡®Why, why do I care for him? I don¡¯t know where he came from, whose child he is, nor why he is here. So, why do I care?¡¯


    Questions haunted her mind as she tried to come to a conclusion, yet she quickly found herself between two opposites; disposing of the boy and trying to bear her own child or giving him away to another family.


    The baby had calmed down several minutes ago, yet she hadn¡¯t stopped staring at him. She followed the curves of his face, the point of his nose, and the beginning hairline to the crown jewels of the pudgy thing¡¯s face; his eyes.


    They sprung out from behind his eyelashes, revealing a dark brown ring blending over into the blackness of the pupil. The edges were a lighter brown, creating a clear contrast between the white sclera.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    She couldn¡¯t avert her gaze as she was swept up into the blackness of his pupil, drowning in the black that slowly receded into a dark brown.


    She stood there for several minutes, silently. Her psyche had calmed as the maelstrom of emotions had been sucked away by the vacuum hiding behind those eyes, causing her to stare absentmindedly at the young child in front of her.


    It was only when she noticed that he was staring back that she stopped. Startled, she took a step back, only to receive a grievous expression from the small boy. Her heart melted as she saw his lips quiver, his eyes ready to let the blockades recede and let the flow drown out his sorrows.


    And with that, she realised that there was a third option.


    ¡®We could adopt him.¡¯


    Her mind raced as the four simple words conjured up countless of questions, yet those thoughts were outshined by one emotion which radiated like a sun, delight.


    ¡®Maybe I can¡¯t get a child myself, but he can be ours! He can be the son Grey always wanted, the little piglet which we could pass everything on to, he could be our son! He could be mine!¡¯


    Scenes of herself playing with the small boy raced through her mind, she imagined cuddling with him, calming him when he had been scared away by the ¡®monsters¡¯, teaching him everything she knew, yet most of all, scenes of happiness sprung to life. She was delighted by all of this, relishing in the ecstasy of finally having her own child.


    ¡®Oh, we need a name! What would be appropriate? A name for a human with dark elf parents, this could pose a problem.¡¯


    In her enthusiasm, she picked the little boy up, and cradled him close to herself. She slowly walked over to the kitchen, trying not to disturb his sleep.


    ¡®I do hope he got enough sleep, I don¡¯t really know what dinol need. I do know that they¡¯re weaker than dark elves, and that they breed like rabbits, but I don¡¯t really know much else. Well, let¡¯s focus on the important things, giving him a name!¡¯


    She sat down, immersed in thought as she struggled to find a fitting name for her little piglet.


    The room had returned to its former tranquillity, returning from being filled with anguish, uncertainty and tears, to being filled with silence.


    She sat there with a large smile on her face, not minding the silver hair that cascaded down her shoulders, the stained nightwear, nor the dried-up amniotic fluid that still stuck to her legs.


    Her head wasn¡¯t filled with the anguish of never birthing a healthy child, not with the shattering of the picture of creating her own family, not filled with apprehension towards the foreign child she had only discovered this morning, it was only filled with what to name her son.


    So, with that silence, that serenity, her husband woke up.


    Groaning like a neamrach steam engine, he tried to sit up, only to slump back down as a needle ran through his skull, ravaging his attempt at coherent thought.


    ¡°Aww, now I remember why I hate drinking, this hangover is killing me!¡±


    He put his hands to his temples, trying to quell the demon poking the insides of his skull with a rusted dagger. He finally managed to sit up, groaning as the late morning light burned his retinas and encouraged the demon to begin poking harder.


    ¡°Rough night sweetheart?¡±


    The soothing voice of his wife had been always being like a balm to an irritated wound, as even the little demon had stopped poking his dagger wherever he went. He looked up from his comfortable arm pillow, only to be greeted by the demon re-engaging in his favourite activity, and the blessed smile of his wife.


    Her high cheekbones accented her dark brown lips, her purple eyes penetrated through the blinding light and gazed into his own with a gentle yet concerned look.


    He groaned again, putting his head back on the table and waiting for his throbbing headache to wear off. He sat there for several minutes, quietly listening to the whispers of the wind, the rustling of the leaves outside their window, and the noise of synchronized breathing in front of him.


    ¡®Wait, why are there two? And why in the hell are they so in tune?¡¯


    His curiosity won out over his throbbing headache, and he slowly lifted his head up, trying to see more of his wife than her face. He followed the wooden ringed patterns in the table, reaching his wife¡¯s figure.


    He winced at the sight of blood on her white nightgown, remembering what transpired last night, and with a final heave of his neck, he looked at his wife.


    His eyes widened from surprise and his mouth fell wide open as he looked upon the little baby cradled in her arms. His thoughts were jumbled as he couldn¡¯t comprehend what was happening.


    ¡®Why is he in her arms? Why is she cradling him like he is our child? WHAT is going on?!¡¯


    His expression turned increasingly worried and confused, yet before he could voice his concerns, they were broken by the oasis of peace sitting opposite of him.


    The peaceful image of a mother with her child washed over him, as Lyvia gently whispered to him.


    ¡°Dear, I know it¡¯s a bit confusing, but please don¡¯t shout. It might wake him.¡±


    She looked down upon the little babe with worried eyes, causing the opposition even more surprise, yet his mouth slammed shut. He didn¡¯t know what was going on, but his wife had rarely been wrong with her instincts, so he trusted her.


    He sat there for several minutes, trying to process the situation while simultaneously trying to appease the little demon in his head enough that it will stop. His eyes were closed, yet he couldn¡¯t help but look up from his contemplation to steal a glance at his wife and the child in her arms.


    And every time he did, he was stupefied. It was a scene wholesome in nature and peaceful in demeanour, it sapped away every negative thought, and replaced it with the will to protect, the urge to care, and the desire for him to grow.


    He looked upon the peaceful pair again and again, his quick glances quickly turning into a stare. His previously shocked expression turned calm, as his mind was emptied of all thoughts but the two in front of him.


    His stare didn¡¯t go unnoticed, as Lyvia¡¯s smiled once again, yet it wasn¡¯t filled with the gentleness it formerly held, nor with the care for the child in her arms. Instead, it was filled with masked grief and guilt.


    ¡°I know this is sudden Grey, and I¡¯m sorry. I don¡¯t remember last night, but I can figure out what happened, and the little guy just lay there, staring up at me when I was crying, consoling me when I thought I wasn¡¯t going to ever have a family. I know this is wrong, and I do realise you might not like it, but please Grey, don¡¯t take him away.


    It¡¯s messed up, but I want to keep him, I want to care for him, I want to be his mother.¡±


    Her solemn voice resounded through the silence that had flooded the living room, it echoed throughout the chamber and banished the little devil from Grey¡¯s head.


    Sober, he stood up and walked around the table towards the two.


    The alcohol hadn¡¯t left his system, as he walked with clumsy steps, taking close to a minute before he was finally around the table. His face hidden by hair that hung from his head


    Yet Lyvia didn¡¯t see this, she was too scared to even look up. She knew her husband was easy going, he had always endured het tirades and loved her regardless, yet she also knew that he took matters very seriously, especially matters pertaining to family.


    She continued looking down at the boy, imprinting his face in her mind, and listening to the heavy steps of her husband while flinching with each impact on the floorboards.


    ¡®No. No! I will not let him take him from me! I may have failed to provide him a child, but I will not fail as a mother to this child! I can¡¯t, no, I won¡¯t let him go!¡¯


    She gathered up her courage, building up a will of iron to stand against the tide of emotions that were about to wash up against it. Bolstered by her motherly instincts, she looked up from her little piglet, glaring at the man she thought wished to hurt her child.


    Her iron will melted in front of her husband, it was prepared for anger, hate, anything except what she was seeing. Her eyes bulged as he looked upon the calm and elated expression of her husband.


    His previously furrowed brows had unwound, his bloodshot eyes had started watering, and his formerly stoic lips had formed into a smile. He reached out his hand towards them, putting his hand on the little boy¡¯s back.


    ¡°Can I hold our son?¡±


    The soft words were almost inaudible, yet they resounded through Lyvia¡¯s mind like war drums, echoing through every part of her psyche, and evoking every positive emotion they could. They roused the deepest parts of her soul, invoking a cascade of tears to stream down her cheeks while she abruptly shut up from the chair, and hugged her husband.


    Their entanglement seemed to last an eternity as tears flowed down two pairs of cheeks, banishing their grief and reaffirming their happiness together.


    Their trance of happiness was broken as suddenly as it had had come, as the little boy started crying in the couple¡¯s hands.


    Together, they calmed him and bore witness to his delighted expression once again. His dark brown eyes demanded their attention and his endearing smile seemed to encompass everything they felt for him and each other.


    ¡°What do you think we should name him?¡±


    Grey¡¯s words were barely audible, yet to the overjoyed Lyvia, they were like an orchestra giving their final notes before the climax.


    The question had been on her mind since the start of all of this, yet she only now found an answer. The words that flowed were as natural as breathing, creating a name that came straight from the heart.


    ¡°Daelyn, his name is Daelyn.¡±

 Chapter 3

    <h1>Chapter 3</h1>


    The morning wasn¡¯t as usual as it should have been for the Theandor family, as both Grey and Lyvia were darting through the living room, grabbing several toys, magazines, a change of clothes and some food.


    The only one who wasn¡¯t hastily preparing was the little Daelyn. The three-year-old kindergartner looked quizzically at his parent¡¯s behaviour, wondering why they were harrying him about being careful again and again.


    ¡®I don¡¯t get why they are so worried? I¡¯m only going to play with some children, it isn¡¯t like I¡¯m marching into the mouth of a cinder fox?¡¯


    Daelyn silently sat one on the kitchen chairs, recounting all the times he had sat on these chairs.


    The times he had been playing with Lyvia, the times he had been playing with his food, the times he had gotten scolded for it, but also the times he had gotten hurt, the times they were worried, discussing deep into the night, unaware that he could hear and, just recently, understand everything.


    ¡®Was this about me being a Dinol? If so, they could have just told me instead of being all secret about it. I wouldn¡¯t mind anyone calling me a Dinol, I just want them to be happy. I don¡¯t want them to be sad.


    Oh! Maybe it¡¯s something about a ¡®biological¡¯ parent? I don¡¯t really know, but they seemed really worried every time that came up.¡¯


    The little boy had grown very close to his parents in the three years he had been under their care. He had spent each day with them, playing with his mother and learning from his mother. It hadn¡¯t taken long for Daelyn to figure out that Lyvia held the throne in this household, as she had ordered Grey around on multiple occasions, especially when something happened to Daelyn.


    He had been very kind, full of energy and childish towards his parents, begging for his mother to read the story of ¡®The Hero Albericht¡¯, and plaguing his father to play with him more, throwing the small boy up in the air and enticing him with the moving roots that split off from his robes and slithered towards Daelyn like a batch of snakes.


    They had grown from a couple with an adopted child to a family. Daelyn had grown closer and closer to the two over the years, creating a strong bond between the two parents and their new child.


    The over-enthusiastic pair had recorded almost everything their new-born did, they cheered at his first steps, hung his first attempt at painting in the living room, and they were absolutely adored by his ¡®mapa¡¯, earning him a praise for his first word and his creativity.


    The combination of an eager mother, a curious child and a calm husband made it hard for Grey, as he was often dragged upstairs and away from his work by Lyvia, busting his eardrums about another one of Daelyn¡¯s achievements, or harrying him with questions that Daelyn¡¯s inventive mind could come up with yet she couldn¡¯t concisely answer.


    Surprisingly, Grey never got mad. He never scolded Lyvia for her impulsive actions, he was never angry at Daelyn, he was always proud of his son and happy for his wife. There hadn¡¯t been a moment when he had shown any irritation, anger, or even mental fatigue. He was the calm oasis in the chaotic storm his wife embodied, filling the house with a silencing mist and quiet tranquillity.


    It had greatly enjoyed the praise, giggling like the three-year-old it was, yet He wasn¡¯t satisfied. He had given the answer their parents asked, He had whispered them to It, He had done everything he could, yet He didn¡¯t feel satisfied, instead He felt imprisoned.


    He had spent every day trying to gain more knowledge, trying to create more and more complex theorems, trying to create images beyond reality, beyond fiction, yet He failed each and every time, as He didn¡¯t know enough to imagine the wonders of the universe, the underlying rules that dictated every part of life. He didn¡¯t have enough information, and He couldn¡¯t get more, because It had control of their body, and It, being the child that It was, didn¡¯t want to read, It wanted to play with their mother and father.


    So, He was chained to the will of It. He had already long given up any aspirations to gain control and venture out, any aspirations of leaving for the outside world and learning about the wonders of nature, the workings of the universe or the origin of life, or itself. Instead, He simply waited for the day where He would fade away, absorbed into Its consciousness and terminated from the world forever.


    So, He refused to think any further. He went on a silent protest, refusing to give any more hints or answers to It. Yet that protest seemed futile, as It was quickly developing itself, creating thoughts of Its own, speaking words, sentences and telling whole stories to his bewildered parents, only because He had guided him a little in the beginning.


    So, instead of wasting anymore time contemplating, He stopped thinking. Any thought that He would have would be futile, any theorem that would cross his mind would never be used, nor would any halogenic picture ever remain.


    He was silent, and he would endure till he was gone.


    He only looked out the window that It opened every day, staring at the world He longed for so much. Yet It didn¡¯t want to explore the world, instead it incessantly plagued He with thoughts of his newfound companions, calling them his ¡®friends¡¯ or ¡®best friends¡¯.


    And their parents had decided that they go on a playdate today, giving It more than enough reason to frolic in the dreamscape like a headless chicken. Even when the illustrious window to the plane of colours closed, did It not stop thinking about those ¡®friends¡¯ and continued his frolicking even in a dreamscape.


    He simply waited for his demise, yet he just hoped that It would make his waiting a little more pleasant, as enduring anymore of this childish behaviour was bound to push him past any former boundary.


    Their parents stood at the front door, preparing for their departure towards the so called ¡®playdate¡¯.


    ¡°Daelyn, are you ready? We need to be at the play date in an hour!¡±


    It perked up, looking up from the chair they had been sitting on, and waddled over to the front door in the fashion only a three-year-old could. It looked up at their parents with a smile on their face, earning a warm smile from both.


    They were quickly scooped up by Lyvia and put in a small blanket wrapped around her shoulder, keeping their body close to hers.


    He had already bored of the small trip to town, yet It continued to gaze at the surroundings, awed by the beauty they held. Provided, He did enjoy the beautiful picture of the overarching trees and the green tinted forest floor a dozen metres below them, yet He had seen it more times than He bothered to count.


    So, He quietly drifted off to the comatose state it had experienced so many times, into the veil of inactivity that would keep the incessant chittering of Its thoughts away from him. The only sound that penetrated through the veil and reached He was the soft beat drums of their mother, soothing the mind and taking him away to that place of complete inactivity, the only place that offered refuge from the test of time.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Yet while He quietly ran off to bed, It didn¡¯t spare a thought about rest, or even being a little more composed, as the little boy was gazing at the passing trees, the occasional fleeing animal and the forest floor filled with all kinds of colourful vegetation, from poisonous herbs to beautiful flowers, the forest floor of the Eleanor League had it all.


    Yet the rainbow coloured forest floor didn¡¯t win out against the trees that loomed over them, as their large roots broke through the ground and their bodies swallowed the sky, outlining the blue yonder in a green and brown frame. They limited the denizens of the forest comparable to a toad in a well, never knowing what is beyond their meagre interpretation of the endless blue expansion that held above the world.


    The same was true for Daelyn, as he had never seen the sky beyond the trees, he had only caught glimpses of it through the thick layers of foliage and the occasional toad¡¯s view from a small clearing.


    He had spent the years wondering about the great beyond every time that Lyvia took him out, yet his passion had diminished over time, growing more and more numb as it seemed to more closely resemble a flickering candlelight instead of the blaze it once was.


    So, instead of looking up at the sky, he looked in front of him, at their destination.


    The large townhall stretched out in front of him, towering above the little boy like a giant would. The town hall seemed to be made from different levels, a ground level opening to the shops on the forest floor, a house several dozens of metres up, and a watchtower even higher up, only being visible by the lights that were lit every hour of the day to make sure that no enemies took the village by surprise.


    The townhall itself stood opposite of several shops perched next to each other creating the shape of a crescent moon. The village had a small amount of utilities, such as a blacksmith, a tailor, a small inn, and the local alchemist shop, where ladies could buy beautification potions and men some strange blue pills. Daelyn hadn¡¯t really been able to figure out what they were for, or, more likely, It hadn¡¯t.


    The small family walked with large strides towards the townhall, making it clear to any outsider that they were hurried. They crossed the square without exchanging the usual pleasantries, reaching the large building within the minute and slowly piling in the front door, only to be greeted by the smiling face of the leading elder in the region, Ellith Elrieden.


    Grey and Lyvia¡¯s expression visibly loosened, hugging their friend and starting the small talk they had been avoiding to vehemently only a moment ago.


    ¡°Elrieden, how are you? Thank you so much for the invitation! We are so happy that Daelyn finally gets to play with some of his peers!¡±


    Elrieden smiled and bent down to eyelevel with Daelyn.


    ¡°So, this is little Daelyn, I haven¡¯t seen him since you got him registered, and that was when he was young. He grew so much in two years, but I guess it¡¯s normal for a dinol. Let¡¯s save that for another time, the little party is down the hall on the right. I¡¯m sure you will find it easily, it¡¯s hard to miss the screaming children, even from the lookout.¡±


    As if to prove Elrieden right, a high-pitched screech resounded through the hallways, momentarily drowning out all sound but that of a hysterical child.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, there is a soundproof chamber across from the room, next to my office.¡±


    The expression of both adults standing in front of him visibly eased, dispersing the tension that the scream had warranted, and replacing it with a euphoric calm.


    ¡°Thank Eleanor.¡±


    ¡°I would rather drink a dinol¡¯s concoction than listen to those children.¡±


    ¡°And what? Get raped behind an inn? Dear, the dogs wouldn¡¯t even have you, let alone a dinol.¡±


    ¡°Then what are you doing here?¡±


    The two of them laughed wholeheartedly, enjoying each other¡¯s company. Meanwhile, Ellith looked at them, baffled.


    ¡°Ehm, I don¡¯t get it. Wait, I do get the joke, but aren¡¯t you basically saying that your son would rape someone?¡±


    Lyvia and Grey looked at him, their faces returning from their relaxed state before they turned, ugly. Grey sighed, while Lyvia¡¯s brows furrowed, her eyes narrowed, and her lips were packed tightly together, letting only the bare minimum of sound through.


    ¡°Elrieden, I get your confusion, but do you really think we would associate our son with those barbarians? Most of them are comparable to the rats they live alongside, nothing more and nothing less. We don¡¯t see Daelyn that way, because we will make sure that he has a better education, good tutors and a loving family to rely on.¡±


    Elrieden met her gaze, gazing deeply into the stoic eyes that refused to move for even a second, challenging him to say the opposite, daring him to oppose those eyes filled with stoutness.


    He averted his eyes and led them to the kids¡¯ room in silent.


    The sudden screams only increased as they neared the room, transforming from a far-off echo to a full-blown orchestra of unintelligible screeching, whining and the occasional calls for ¡®mama¡¯.


    They entered the room, only to be met by a room in chaos, a few parents sitting off to the side with pained expressions, and at least a dozen children running around playing. Well, it was hard to call this playing for Daelyn, for him, it was more like seeing a fight for the first time, as the Dynn Dor¨¢in children filling the room were stronger than a Dinol, far stronger.


    They darted around like wasps, turning corners like hares and charging into each other like boars, creating a spectacle comparable to a tavern brawl, only with a lot more screaming and laughing.


    Lyvia and Grey had resolved to stay the whole playdate, watching over Daelyn from the side-lines to make sure he was okay, yet the third eardrum busting scream made them regret their choice.


    They calmly walked over to the chairs, quickly being spotted by the adults sitting there with hollow eyes. They looked at Daelyn, gazing at him with a mix of emotions, curiosity, pity, indifference and the occasional scowl. These emotions could hardly be masked with a social fa?ade, as they were genuinely surprised to see a dinol child at the hands of Dynn Dor¨¢in parents.


    Their eyes followed the small boy waddling over to the dozen of overbearing children, curiously following his every footstep, only to find that they weren¡¯t the only one.


    The whole room had gone silent as the children had stopped their games and turned to gaze at the newcomer, apprehensive of the alien in their midst.


    The silence lasted for several moments, engulfing the room in an awe directed towards Daelyn, only to be broken by the voice of a little girl.


    ¡°Daelyn! You finally came!¡±


    An ordinary girl with dull grey hair shot out from the crowd, closing in on Daelyn with her little sister in tow. The two of them sped towards him, running at the little boy with a dangerous pace, before abruptly stopping in front of him, creating a small breeze.


    ¡°Took you long enough! Me and Ayda were waiting for you! Come, we are going to introduce you to everyone!¡±


    The little girl looked at him with glee, quickly grabbing his hand and dragging him off to one corner of the room where a small group of boys and girls hadn¡¯t been participating in the brawl. Instead, they played a little rough to make sure that the younger children weren¡¯t injured, Daelyn inevitably became a part of this, as he was both young and extremely weak compared to the rest of the children darting through the room.


    Well, even the less rowdy corner was still imposing to the little bookworm, as the children ran after each other, running at speeds seemed impossible for their kindergartner physique, whereas their three-year-old minds were just able to keep up with everything going on. They knew they shouldn¡¯t go near the larger kids, so they didn¡¯t, simple as that.


    Daelyn saw it a little different, as he had trouble keeping up with the children whose physique were at least two years behind, and he had even more trouble spotting the children whose physique were the same as his. They darted around at speeds he couldn¡¯t hope to match, and the occasional bump was shrugged off, whereas Daelyn knew he would be hurt badly, very, very badly.


    So, instead of playing, he opted to read his favourite book for the dozenth time this week, they had stopped keeping count after the first month.


    He opened the book, gazing at the colourful pictures and big letters. The story flowed from his mind as he saw the images pass by, the letters skim past, and the characters wave at him. He wasn¡¯t proficient enough at reading to read the story himself, especially when there was a lot of text, but Lyvia had read it so many times that he knew it by heart, enjoying the adventures of young Albericht again and again and again.


    His mind became entranced by the pages, blocking out all sensations but the touch of the rough paper, the colourful drawings on each page, and the emotions that welled up.


    Daelyn finally noticed something about his surroundings when he had a lull in the story, the crowded room had become calmer, less noisy.


    He looked up, before he rebounded, startled by the six faces that were mere centimetres away from his. The dark skin colour didn¡¯t help, as their faces were masked by their overhanging silver hair and the low amount of light, resulting in a vision filled with six expressionless faces.


    Daelyn wanted to scream.

 Chapter 4

    <h1>Chapter 4</h1>


    Daelyn wanted to scream.


    The six expressionless faces loomed over him, scrutinizing every little part of him, before one of the faces stepped out of the light.


    ¡°Daelyn, you can read?! I don¡¯t know anyone that can read! Well, not anyone that isn¡¯t an adult, but that doesn¡¯t count.¡±


    Her eyes lit up, her smile widened, and she took a step forward, putting her face only centimetres away from Daelyn¡¯s.


    ¡°Can you read the story to us? We would love to hear it!¡±


    Ayda was joined by the other children, standing around Daelyn in a crescent moon, staring at him with anticipation. Yet Daelyn didn¡¯t see this, as his panic took over, reacting to the four children standing around him, looming over him with their dark complexion and grey hair. They looked like beasts, eager to pounce, and he could only scramble back in fear as the small group converged on him, locking their gazes on the book in his hands.


    ¡°Guys, calm down. Step back a little, okay? Give him a breather.¡±


    A girl slightly larger than Ayda stepped into the circle, spreading out her arms before lightly pushing the others back, giving Daelyn some room. She squatted down, coming to eye level with Daelyn.


    ¡°Are you okay now?¡±


    The girl¡¯s voice soothed him, calming him and allowing him to recollect himself.


    He stood up, processing what just happened, and turned towards the small group of children. His smile grew, and with a loud voice, he said:


    ¡°Are you ready for the tale of Alberecht, the hero who was promised a kingdom, but got the world. The hero who became the first guild master!¡±, Daelyn eagerly said, mimicking the synopsis that had been hammered into his head through repetition.


    The eyes of the children lit up, shouting in excitement, and crowding around Daelyn, forming a small circle around him as they rushed to get closest, intent on enjoying the reading sessions to its fullest. They didn¡¯t know anything about the hero Alberecht, nor about what being a ¡®guild master¡¯ means, but Daelyn had raised their spirits, promising them a heroic tale with only a few lines. So, they eagerly awaited the story to commence, revelling in the unknown heroism that was to come.


    Daelyn sat down, leaning back against the wall with the book on his lap. He slowly opened it, enjoying the suspension in the air for several more seconds, before turning the first page.


    ¡°We start in a small village on the outskirts of an old human kingdom. The village was poor, without much merit, a small population and an even smaller guard. This is where the story of Alberecht starts, with a small boy who wanted nothing more than to become strong enough to protect his family, look cool in front of the ladies, and become the strongest man in the village.¡±


    Daelyn started with a calm voice, slowly narrating the youth of the hero, before his story amped up with repeated attacks from gnolls, the devastation of the village at the hands of their furred leader, and the exodus towards the nearest town.


    His voice raised at the fights, detailing the hectic close-quarter struggles of the apprentice fighter, narrating the difficulties he went through before finally being able to venture out as part of a mercenary group.


    The story trotted along, skipping over some of the more boring parts and leaving only the valiant struggles of the protagonist, detailing his battles against goblin hordes, duels against bestial warlords and the massacre of the undead at the hands of his newly found mercenary troupe.


    The climax quickly closed in, coming to fruition as one of the major events in the past millennia, the devastation of the western aristocracy and the spread of the dark plague, resulting in the deadlands we know today.


    Alberecht stood against the putrescent horrors coming from the wasted kingdom, holding his ground against the oncoming horde, but quickly realising that they weren¡¯t enough to stop the horde. Countless of villages would be overrun, even more innocent people would be slaughtered, and all they could do was stand there, fighting the horde and trying to hold on for their life.


    Yet, what transpired was far beyond his expectations. In countless villages, towns and cities, the populace rose up and defended their homes with life and limb, giving everything to drive back the hordes and live for another day.


    It worked, making Alberecht see the importance of power in both individuals and groups, and making the people themselves see their own power, resulting in the creation of the adventurer¡¯s guild alongside the mercenary guild, with Alberecht at its head.


    Daelyn looked up from the book, finding the children meeting his gaze with wonder, lost in the story and in his vocalisation of it.


    There was a silence of several seconds, allowing Daelyn to look at each of them, before they burst up from the floor, bustling with action. Daelyn rebounded at this, slamming against the wall behind him as the hyperactive children had taken him by surprise.


    ¡°That was so cool!¡±


    ¡°I want to be just as strong as Alberecht!¡±


    ¡°If you become as strong as him, I will become even stronger!¡±


    ¡°Jane was so cool! She helped everyone while the rest were just killing monsters, she is the best!¡±


    The children¡¯s conversations quickly turned into incoherent ramblings as none would listen to another, only banging on about which character they thought was the coolest, strongest, or as one little girl was eagerly shouting, ¡®bestest¡¯.


    Daelyn settled in against the wall, enjoying the excited children, while he thought of which character was the best. He could hardly decide between the sentient dryad or Alberecht, but that wasn¡¯t the most interesting part of the book, at least for him.


    The reason why Alberecht won out was because of the epilogue, where his work as a guildmaster was detailed. It consisted of guiding new recruits, setting up treaties with countries, expanding influence and doing all kinds of stuff to help new adventurer¡¯s, and Daelyn loved this part. He didn¡¯t really love the tedious bits, as he was more content watching others and interacting with them, he loved the chances Alberecht presented, the hope he gave to every soul in the world to become a famed mercenary, a legendary warrior, or an infamous warlord.


    It was a small passage, but it revealed so much to Daelyn.


    ¡®To those who see the work I do now as unimportant, I wish to concur. The adventurers I had were grand and hearty, yet they were filled with loss, anguish and a general sense of weakness. Everything that I had achieved as a mercenary proved to be useless against overwhelming odds. The weapons and armour that I wielded, the training that I received, the fellow mercenaries that fought only for gold and glory, all useless against the true horrors of this world. The only people who ensured our survival, were the weakest and most pitiful of them all. They defended their homes with every last will to fight, losing their lives in an attempt to slay as many fiends as possible.


    Their bravery was both inspiring and embarrassing, their zealousness both frightening and breathtaking, and their will to protect indomitable. They made me realise that giving the weak a chance to grow in a world of endless possibilities was the only way to proceed. So, I did.  Stolen story; please report.


    It was my goal to become influential, wealthy, and powerful above all, yet my purpose turned out to be giving others chances at such influence, wealth, and might.¡¯


    He hadn¡¯t even been interested in the message at the end, but Elyvia had told it regardless. There were a lot of difficult words, but a few days of deciphering the meaning behind the relatively simple sentences left him baffled.


    Since then, he had spent days dreaming about adventuring, picturing himself as a heroic paladin, a gifted sorcerer, or a powerful warrior fighting off hordes of green skinned, battling dragons or pulverizing undead. They all contained the usual power fantasy protagonist fighting against evil, only differentiating in the role the hero would play in a party.


    He revelled in another one of his fantasies, yet he was quickly pulled out of with force.


    He looked up, finding the aggressor to be Ania, looking at him with sparkling eyes.


    ¡°Daelyn, we decided that we¡¯re going to play your story out!¡±


    The little girl shouted in excitement, jumping 20 centimetres into the air with raised arms, before falling back to the ground.


    The children standing around her were in a similar mood, invigorated by the energy flowing through the story and restless from its pace. Well, all but one.


    ¡°Ania! You can¡¯t push it on him, we need to ask!¡±


    He was once again saved by the older girl, her age allowing her to scold the others, and save Daelyn. He looked up at her once again, meeting her gaze with soft eyes.


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    The words rolled off his lips, feeling as natural as breathing, yet they had more effect than releasing the stale air in his lungs.


    The older girl smiled back, grinning from ear to ear as her cheeks slightly reddened. Her expression turned into one of pure bliss, causing Daelyn to grin back, looking into the girl¡¯s eyes.


    They stood there for moment, staring at each other uninhibited, enjoying the others gaze.


    ¡°Caeda! Are you going to ask or not?¡±


    The two were quickly broken from their trance, turning their face towards the small girl pouting. Het puffed cheeks were slightly coloured, indicating her irritation as emotions took over her expression once more.


    Caeda laughed, showing her snow white teeth before turning to face the agitated Ania.


    ¡°I never said I would ask, did I? Small girls should learn to ask, because if they don¡¯t, small boys will be mean to them.¡±


    Her smiled was filled with glee as he innocuously glanced at one of the twins standing next to Ania, earning her a confused look from both and a glare from Ania. The smaller Dynn Dor¨¢in was on the verge of continuing, before she heard a sigh behind her.


    ¡°If you really want, we can play it out. I will tell the story while you pick someone and play them. Just make sure to stick to a character, okay? It isn¡¯t really fun if a mage suddenly decides they¡¯re a warrior.¡±


    The children around him burst into mayhem once more, excitedly shouting which character they wanted to play, displaying vigour that rivalled the bestial warlords. The Ulindil twins were arguing who would be the shield and who would be the sword, Ania couldn¡¯t stop screaming that she wanted to be a female paladin, while the small Ayda quietly claimed the priest.


    The only ones that seemed to be content with sitting on the side-lines were the narrator, Daelyn, and the soon to be lighting sage, Caeda.


    ¡°Are you sure you want to be the lightning sage? The only thing he does is send the heroes on a quest without any preparation. Besides that, he is just an old man that never leaves his tower. He really doesn¡¯t seem the most enjoyable role to play.¡±


    She chuckled.


    ¡°It¡¯s a quieter role, I like that. I don¡¯t like having to watch over a bunch of hyperactive adults. Hyperactive children are more than enough, thank you very much.¡±


    Daelyn was dumbfounded by her reply. Not understanding why she didn¡¯t want to look cool like the heroes, he stared at her with glossy eyes.


    ¡°But don¡¯t you want to be a hero? Don¡¯t you want to be cool and strong?¡±


    Caeda¡¯s smile faded, she looked past the children arguing in front of them, past the wooden interior of the spacious room.


    ¡°Why would you want to be a hero? You don¡¯t become strong because you become one, you are a hero because you are strong, you aren¡¯t cool because you¡¯re a hero, you might be popular but that might have little to do with being a hero. I don¡¯t want to be a hero, because people will expect certain things of you, things you might not like at all.


    So, I would rather be the old man sitting comfortably in his tower than the child that wants to be a ¡®hero¡¯.¡±


    Caeda lightly grinned at her own reasoning, believing herself to have passed on valuable knowledge to her minor, yet he wasn¡¯t done.


    ¡°But what do you want to be then? I guess you can become an old man in a tower, but it still doesn¡¯t seem like much fun.¡±


    She stayed silent for several seconds, maintaining her gaze into the beyond.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I guess I could stay here and learn blacksmithing from dad, but that is about as much fun as staying in a tower. Maybe I could become a famous adventurer, exploring the deepest of ruins and looking for long lost artefacts and treasure, or an infamous mercenary, collecting contract after contract under influential employers.¡±


    ¡°Contracts?¡±


    ¡°You will learn when you¡¯re older, now where was I? Oh right, the¡­¡±


    Sadly Caeda couldn¡¯t finish her sentence, as the children once again grouped up before them, with Ania taking the lead.


    ¡°Caeda! Stop hogging Daelyn to yourself, we wanna play!¡±


    The high-pitched shout from little Ania quickly put a stop to the conversation, making both Daelyn and Caeda realize that they weren¡¯t alone on the world, and that they had been talking for a little too long, at least in the children¡¯s view. They jeered at Caeda, calling her a ¡®meanie¡¯ and ¡®hogger¡¯, some shouts were less coherent than others, but the general consensus was clear.


    Those remarks didn¡¯t really bother Caeda, yet the accompanying realization did.


    ¡®Did I just, basically pour my heart out in front of a three year old? Did I just tell him I want to become a ¡®famous adventurer¡¯?! By Eleanor, why did I do that? I¡¯m more than a decade older than him!¡¯


    The surprised Caeda quickly fazed the surroundings out, while Daelyn turned to face them with a smile. He quickly organized everyone into roles, with Ania being in the lead role as a female version of Alberrecht, the Ulindil twins wielding both sword and shield, and Ayda having surprisingly changed her profession from a priest to a warlock. While there were some perplexed responses, they started regardless, quickly forgetting about their surroundings and relishing in the world their combined imagination created, playing their roles as if the characters were alive.


    All of this was under Daelyn¡¯s guidance, as he orchestrated them, narrating their actions, elevating the tension to new heights, making the clich¨¦ plot twist seem like something slightly new, and even filling in the occasional gap left by either the story or the actors.


    His voice was the red line of the story, guiding the actors past the challenges they faced, the duels they fought, the giants they felled and the hordes they slayed. He was the puppet master, controlling the warrior that pierced through with his spear, the mage that bent the very universe around him, the paladin that fought for her righteous cause, and the rogue that sought nothing more than wealth. He guided all of them, controlling their actions to the point that they even their actors didn¡¯t notice the changes.


    When all was said and done, with the final foe slain and the guild finally established, the story ended.


    One by one the children sat down, exhausted from their crazed fights and the fast pace of the story, captivated by the tale they just played through, only now processing the deeds of their characters and the heroism each of them displayed. They looked at each other with gleeful smiles, satisfied after such an enjoyable workout.


    ¡°And so, the story of Alberrecht ends here. His dreams came true in a way he couldn¡¯t have predicted, and now it is our turn. He made the adventurer¡¯s guild not only for Dinol, but for everyone, for every race that exists on this planet, for every individual that wishes to strive beyond what they are. The guild welcomes all.¡±


    Daelyn closed the book, ending the story, and, accidentally, giving the sign for the audience to applause.


    The previously bored and bloodshot parents were on the edge of their seat, vigorously clapping with large smiles plastered on their faces as they couldn¡¯t help their enjoyment.


    The recipients of this applause weren¡¯t as active, the children were stunned by the sudden pull from their fantasy world and the loud clapping of the grown-ups in the room. Not knowing what to do, they simply froze, staring at the enthusiastic audience with wide eyes.


    Lyvia and Grey had hurried out of the lounge next door when they heard Daelyn was putting on a play, and they were shocked by the little boy¡¯s achievement. They applauded along with the rest of the parents, before walking up to Daelyn and enveloping him in their embrace, revelling in their son¡¯s achievement and praising him for it.


    While most of the actors were being praised by their parents, one was still recovering from the theatrical play.


    ¡®Well, that wasn¡¯t as boring as usual. I guess if he does more things like this I can remain, helping him bit by bit. I might even be able to switch places once, experience the true world, I might be able to do more than just look through those damned holes!¡¯


    He was recovering from the intense mental workout the play provided, as He had guided Daelyn through the story, giving it the subtle nuance the three year old would have most definitively missed. For the first time, He had enjoyed himself, and He hoped that It would allow him to feel such joy again.


    ¡®Well, it might not even take that long. It wasn¡¯t hard to miss the glares, so maybe I will get to enjoy myself some more, while getting rid of them. How did they call it again, ¡®two necks with one stone¡¯?¡¯

 Chapter 5

    <h1>Chapter 5</h1>


    The Theandor family enjoyed the day after the playdate greatly, relishing in the relief that Daelyn wasn¡¯t just accepted by the community at large, he had also made some new friends! The little boy would be the topic of conversation for days to come, as nobody had expected such a small child to orchestrate such a show.


    Lyvia was still beaming with pride, accounting the show to all the times they had read the story to him, doing everything they could to make it come to life, yet most of all, she was proud of Daelyn, and that motherly pride showed.


    She walked through the market splurging a bit here and there to make breakfast just a little more special for her own little orchestrator, and being asked the same story by the baker, the greenery attendant, the butcherer and even the smith.


    Surprisingly, the smith had the most to tell, as he had gotten an unexpectedly detailed and lengthy description from his daughter, Caeda, who played the lightning sage.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know why, but she seemed to remember almost every part of the play. When I pressed for why she knew so much, she suddenly clamped up, not willing to talk anymore. I¡¯m just happy she¡¯s a bit more grown-up about everything now, next summer is gonna be her eighteenth one for crying out loud!¡±


    ¡°They grow up so fast don¡¯t they?¡±


    ¡°They sure do, how old is yours now? He looked to be around 10 to 12 summers, close to thirteen at least.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s only 5 summers old actually, dinol age a lot faster than we do. When your little Caeda is going to be leaving home she might very well be close to 40 summers old, but Daelyn could leave home when he turns 16! I can¡¯t bear the thought!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t even know if we¡¯re going to reach 40 summers, she is an adventurous little brat, and there isn¡¯t much to do, much less explore, in this backwater village.¡±


    ¡°I wish I could say the same for Daelyn, but he is more of a bookworm. He likes to play with others, but he isn¡¯t very explorative, so I can¡¯t help but wonder what his path in life will be! I would love for him to go out and explore the world, but I don¡¯t know if he wants that, I don¡¯t even know how he could become strong enough to leave home!¡±


    The smith looked at her sympathetically, pondering over his own child¡¯s tendencies, and how her powers would develop.


    ¡°I can¡¯t really help you with that. No offense, but I don¡¯t think he is strong enough to pick up my hammer, let alone forge ironwood. But if he is smart, he might be able to become a mage! Even if he fails that, he can still become a scribe!¡±


    ¡°And where do you think we would find an affordable tutor? We don¡¯t have the money to buy decent weapons, let alone pay for tuition at some mage school. It would bankrupt us!¡±


    ¡°What about a private tutor? There must be someone willing to teach the little bookworm.¡±


    ¡°That might be a good idea, but Elrieden can only really teach Daelyn curse magic. I mean, what if he has some kind of element? How will he cultivate that by learning long slurs of text?¡±


    ¡°Elrieden isn¡¯t the only mage close by. Hell, I would say he is inferior to the other.¡±


    Lyvia paused for a moment, cupping her chin in her hand.


    ¡°You mean that reclusive old man under the coal tree? What would he be able to teach Daelyn, and why would he?¡±


    The smith shrugged.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, but I do know that he can teach more than ¡®long slurs of text¡¯. Either way, you¡¯re going to have to find a teacher, and why not do one that is close by? You wouldn¡¯t want Daelyn to be send off to some distant sorcerer, only to have him be his librarian. You can monitor this one, and I would bet my right hand on him being more learned than Elrieden.¡±


    Lyvia raised her eyebrows.


    ¡°Are you sure about that? I mean, it¡¯s a bit weird coming from you, with being so close through him and all through your business.¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s the truth. I have only seen that man once myself, but he is a dinol, and a pretty old one at that. So, unless he has been wasting a few decades, he¡¯s guaranteed to know more than Elrieden. Besides, I work for Elrieden, he is my boss, not my wife.¡±


    Lyvia smirked.


    ¡°Make sure Sana doesn¡¯t hear that!¡±


    She quickly sped off, waving at the smith while her smile broadened. His elated expression suggested that he enjoyed the discourse, and that he took pride in the joy Lyvia showed, until he heard a curt ¡®Ahem¡¯ from behind him.


    Lyvia sped away, grinning as the sound of a grown man being scolded reached her ears.


    She left the confines of the village, running through the foliage of the forest floor, preferring the quicker route to their home instead of the winding pathways hanging overhead.


    It didn¡¯t take long to spot their home, as the white smoke coming from the downstairs chimney betrayed its location to anyone with a keen eye. Grey had begun early today, yet he still couldn¡¯t hope to match Lyvia¡¯s morning routine.


    She entered the house with a light step, choosing the more difficult route along the trunk towards the living room instead of entering through the workshop. She quietly made her way down, making sure not to wake Daelyn in the process. She progressed smoothly down the stairwell, creating almost no sound.


    She expected to find her drowsy husband preparing the multitude of alchemical contraptions and filters for the day, only to be surprised by an energetic Daelyn and a clear and attentive Grey working scuffling around in the atelier.


    Lyvia, struck by surprise, shifted her weight slightly, causing the stairwell to creak.


    The sensitive and trained ears of Grey didn¡¯t miss a heartbeat, as he swung around with three strange looking vials in one hand and another reaching towards Daelyn.


    His expression visibly calmed as he realized it was Lyvia, before it hardened again.


    ¡°Lyvia, for the umpteenth time, stop sneaking down the workshop to scare me! You know what can go wrong if I drop one of these vials, the scorch marks from last time are still visible!¡±The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    Grey pointed at the dry patches on the sealing with clear anger, as he could vividly remember the trouble he had to go through to get all of his alchemical equipment back. The merchants at the guild had made him a laughing stock, as he was basically forced to buy all of the equipment from the human countries at a premium because of the shortage in Eleanor.


    Lyvia smiled awkwardly, failing to hide her surprise and her disappointment.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I just wanted to have a bit of fun, I hadn¡¯t expected you to be brewing already! You¡¯re normally still busy setting everything up! Never mind that, how are you so clear in the morning?! Usually, you would need the dust of a dream fairy to get you up before noon, never mind getting up before the sun is out!¡±


    Grey¡¯s anger faded, and was replaced by a bright and slightly off-putting smile.


    ¡°That¡¯s all thanks to this wonder brew! I found the ingredients on my walk last night, and I couldn¡¯t believe the aroma that was coming from them! So, I dried them into some workable herbs and drank them. Let me tell you, they¡¯re mysticism!¡±


    Lyvia¡¯s playful expression faded.


    ¡°Grey, what do you mean ¡®found¡¯?¡±


    The energized alchemist suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, fumbling with his expression, trying to remain as innocuous as possible.


    ¡°You know, at the side of the road, or maybe a little off, but nothing strange.¡±


    Lyva¡¯s expression hardened once more.


    ¡°Grey, where did you find them?¡±


    Her quiet voice echoed through the room, making even the cheerful Daelyn stop and pause for a moment.


    The room remained quiet for several more moments, until an unfamiliar voice could be heard from just outside.


    ¡°I think I can answer that question, Miss Theandor.¡±


    The voice was accompanied by a creaking of wood and an unsettling amount of rustling of plants. The creaking was quickly followed by a loud snap as the wall directly to their left gave out, revealing a writhing plant mass carrying an elderly man.


    ¡°Goodday!¡±


    The old man had a calm and gentle voice, greeting the three family members as if they were friends passing by. The smile he carried seemed oddly relaxed for the situation, especially considering the monster he was standing on.


    The writhing mass of green carried him towards the hole in the wall, gently placing him down before retreating outside again, content with surrounding the small atelier from outside.


    Daelyn looked at the man with fascination, as he had never seen someone like him nor seen something like the mass of plants that had carried him here.


    The man didn¡¯t have a dark skin, he had a pale face filled up with a few scars and a gentle expression. He carried himself with confidence as he walked towards the two dark elves that awaited him with drawn weapons.


    ¡°Now, now there is no need for such precautions. I just came here to get an explanation as to why some of my produce has gone missing, and a little flower told me I would be able to find it here.¡±


    Both Grey and Lyvia¡¯s face blanched. Grey quickly threw a glance at the cup of black brew standing on the counter, only to widen in exasperation as he didn¡¯t see it.


    The old man followed the dark elf¡¯s glance, smirking as he saw the surprise on his face.


    ¡°Well, if you can¡¯t tell me..¡±. The old man welled up, rising up from his hunched back position like a growing vine as the writhing mass of green behind him stirred.


    ¡°Mister¡±, Daelyn interrupted from behind his parents, ¡±We have your beans here, but they¡¯re not really beans anymore. I¡¯m sorry that we made them into juice, but dad said it would taste really nice and that it helps with morning sickness.¡±


    The old man paused finally noticing the small child standing in front of him. He was at a loss for words as the small child stepped closer and held the cup up to him, showing him the black brew. His mind couldn¡¯t keep up with the intentions of the small child, yet the flora behind him had already seen something else entirely, a threat.


    Several tentacle like protrusions shot into the room, grabbing Daelyn by the arms and legs before lifting him into the air.


    Grey and Lyvia didn¡¯t wait for an explanation as they stepped charged in. Grey downing another one of his concoctions and slashing at the tentacles with his dagger, while Lyvia went for the old man, seeking to end the brain behind the monster on her doorstep.


    The old man was pulled out of the room with nought by a thought, leaving the house and the three family members behind.


    Unfortunately for the old man, Lyvia had an old nickname from her adventuring days.


    ¡®The ravenous Hare¡¯


    Lyvia charged out, following the old man into the open air and destroying another part of the wall in the process. The scowl on her face couldn¡¯t make her intentions more clear.


    This time, the writhing mass of thorns and vines made the right conclusion. Several vines tangled together, creating several tight ropes which launched themselves at Lyvia in an attempt to slow her pace.


    The unguided attempt failed as Lyvia used the vines as foothold.


    The old man didn¡¯t wait for death however. He quickly gathered his thoughts and began orchestrating an attack of anther dust, vines, and thorns. Lyvia received several nicks, yet she undauntedly continued. She had her target in mind and she wouldn¡¯t relent even if the sky came falling down.


    She would protect her child as a mother boar would do, tusks raised and ready to charge at the enemy.


    And so, she did.


    She used her kitchen appliances and her basket as weapons, empowering them with the energy radiating from her inner core. She coated herself in this energy, using it as a flexible yet durable armour and an enhancement of her strength.


    The amber energy turned her skin to bronze, allowing her to shave off the nicks that came her way, as the thorns couldn¡¯t penetrate the magical armour.


    The amber energy focused around her feet, coalescing on the surfaces the landed on before sending her back off into the air, giving her an immense mobility in the forest filled with trees high as a mountain.


    She bounced from place to place, cutting through vines in the process. The plant creature couldn¡¯t regenerate its lost limbs quickly enough, creating more and more holes in the green bulwark that surrounded the intruder.


    The old man changed tactic. The writhing mass of vines lowered itself to the ground, before burrowing into it, and taking the old man with it. The old man threw out one device before he disappeared underground, creating a soft *thump* as the writhing mass of greens closed off the hole by grabbing earth from all sides and mushing it together in a dense clump. Lyvia impacted the clump with enough force to create a sizeable dent in an iron gate, yet the condensed dirt didn¡¯t collapse, as it was packed tightly together by a weave of interwoven vines.


    Lyvia stood in a crater, fuming at the audacity of the coward to run.


    ¡®Next time I see him, I will gut him alive. Who the hell does he think he is, attacking my child?!¡¯


    She turned around, stomping off in a fit of rage. She walked over towards the device the old man dropped, mustering every ounce of willpower to stop her from crushing the damned thing the moment she picked it up.


    ¡®We stole your beans, and now we have your magical thingamajig. Hope you¡¯re happy.¡¯


    The device was an orb cut off at the top, creating a smooth surface with small engravings along the edge. The runes started to glow, turning white as energy was siphoned into the orb from an unknown source.


    ¡°Hello?¡±, the device ran in a raspy and distorted version of the old man¡¯s voice, ¡°Can you hear me?¡±.


    ¡°What do you want, you lousy paedophilic gardener?¡±, she said in a threatening voice.


    ¡°I want to talk.¡±

 Chapter 6

    <h1>Chapter 6</h1>


    ¡®God damnit! Why did this failure have to identify a child holding a cup as a threat, a child for goodness sake! I thought I finally had something that wasn¡¯t a one dimensional green moron, only to be disappointed! It¡¯s like all those years of cultivating that damned ground was all for nothing. Because it was!¡¯


    The old man paced around the small hole the plant monster had dug. Muttering angerly as he paced back and forth, hypothesizing how he was going to make up for this.


    ¡®God damnit¡¯, he sighed, ¡äI guess I will just try to talk to them, what¡¯s the worst that could happen?¡¯.


    He pulled a small disk with a round underside out of his jacket, fuelling magic in it, before calmly speaking into it.


    ¡°Hello?¡±, he said with a quiet and slightly anxious voice, ¡°Can you hear me?¡±. He waited several seconds, hoping for an answer to come. He knew going back out wasn¡¯t an option, as that woman seemed hellbent on chasing him down.


    A raspy and threatening voice came out of the small disk.


    ¡°What do you want, you lousy paedophilic gardener?¡±


    The voice carried a certain threat, making clear that he was in no way allowed to come close to the receiver or their loved ones. The old man wasn¡¯t fazed by this, yet he couldn¡¯t help but frown. ¡®¡¯Lousy paedophilic gardener¡¯? Really, now? Where the hell did that come from, I am not a damned paedophile! I get the gardener, screw off with the lousy part, but how in the world am I a paedophile?¡¯


    The old man quickly snapped out of his confusion, collecting his thoughts, before saying in a quiet and apologetic voice: ¡°I want to talk¡±. The following silence lasted for a few seconds, before a harsh voice came back through the disk.


    ¡°If you want to talk, get back up here. If you can¡¯t say it to my face, then I don¡¯t want to hear it.¡±


    ¡®Damnit, she¡¯s going to chop off my head if I do that. Well, I can¡¯t really leave it like this, I don¡¯t want the nearby village to see me as a threat. Scratch that, they will see me as a paedophile if it¡¯s up to this woman.¡¯. The old man groaned, realising that he had no choice but to come up and talk to them, or be seen as a paedophile.


    He brought the disk to his mouth, before saying with a calm yet restrained voice: ¡°Fine, just don¡¯t try to stab me when I do.¡±


    He didn¡¯t need to wait long for a reply, as the small device lit up the moment he stopped talking. The distortion made the seem almost ethereal, making her statement seem like that of the goddess of punishment.


    ¡°I can¡¯t really let a paedophile near a child, can I?¡±


    The old man sighed once again, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to retain his calm. The tight ropes of interwoven vines moved around him, raising his small platform off of the ground and up. The thorns cleaved into the ground, tearing it away right before the old man while shielding him from the dirt. It took only seconds for him to arrive at the edge of the clearing, close to a dozen metres away from the crater.


    His eyes were quickly drawn to the dark elf woman with her child. Previously being more fixated on the parents, it was only now that he noticed that the child was a dinol. His eyes widened at the discovery, as he hadn¡¯t seen a dinol older than 20 summers in the forest of Eleanor yet.


    ¡®What in the hell is he doing here and why the hell is that woman defending him? Wait, didn¡¯t she say that was her son earlier?! Is she married to a dinol?!¡¯


    His mind was filled with confusion as he stared at the small child, not knowing what to make of it. Unfortunately, Lyvia did.


    ¡°Give me a reason to not remove your manhood right now, you leering old fart!¡±


    Her voice boomed through the trees, causing the old man to snap out of his confusion. ¡®I AM NOT A DAMNED PAEDOPHILE!¡¯. His mind was awash with rage, yet he took a deep breath and turned to address the Dynn Dori¨¤n woman.


    ¡°Let me be clear, I am not trying to do anything to your son, I was just visiting to get the beans that were missing from my farm. I know your husband used them for his alchemy, and I wanted compensation for my stolen produce! And what in the world makes you think I am a paedophile?!¡±. His meagre attempts at calming himself were quickly reduced to nothing as his frustration took over mid-sentence.


    Lyvia was about to burst into a tirade of shouting and cursing, before she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around, only to receive a small peck on her cheek.


    ¡°Calm down, dear. There¡¯s no reason to get so upset about an old, sex-deprived man.¡± Grey said with a soothing voice. He calmly walked past her, standing next to her and acting as a shield for Daelyn. His robe was riddled with plants sprouting from each fibre, covering him in a natural foliage of both ubiquitous and unique plants.


    Lyvia calmed down, losing her frustration. ¡°What took you so long, putting on that rope should only take you a couple of seconds.¡±, most, most of her frustration that is.


    ¡°I had to grab some extra stuff.¡± He said before turning towards the old man surrounded by a writhing mass of green. ¡°Could you tell your plant to stand down? Talking with a huge monstrosity breathing down your neck isn¡¯t very productive.¡±, he said in a loud voice


    ¡°Could you sheathe your weapons in that case? Seeing your own reflection in a knife isn¡¯t very fun when you aren¡¯t the one holding it.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough.¡±, Grey said as he sheathed his dagger, while beckoning Lyvia to do the same. He observed the old man mutter something under his breath before the plant monster skittered off, hiding its large frame behind one of the ginormous trees.


    The path between them was now clear of any obstacles, yet the apparent hostility filled the atmosphere. They walked to each other calmly, ready to draw their weapons and conjure their incantations at the slightest move. The three adults finally halted a few metres from each other, keeping a safe distance from one another while still being able to comfortably hold a conversation.


    Daelyn however, was the epitome of obliviousness in this situation, as he continuously attempted to leave his parents to get a closer look at the plant monster. He was curtly reminded that he should listen to his parents with each pull in his hand, yet the curiosity remained.


    ¡®What is it?! The book doesn¡¯t have a monster like that! There are some large plants with mouths, but not arms and thorns!¡±


    The young boy¡¯s mind had a surprising buoyancy, allowing him to veer back from the normally traumatic event by looking past the creature¡¯s primitive instincts which had almost ended him, and peering into the realm of possibilities this particular critter held. The writhing mass of green didn¡¯t move as a solid body, flowing like a river instead. The liquid form of green vines never revealed its core, making it seem like it was an endless tide of green appendages and pale thorns.


    Daelyn kept staring at the monster even as the adults were holding their stern expressions locked on each other, conversing while keeping their weapons as close as possible.


    The old man broke the silence.


    ¡°I wanted to talk, so I could apologise. The plant monster you must have undoubtedly seen is a Liffyd, a beast I picked up recently, yet it still has to learn proper manners and it has the tendency to view anything that nears me as a threat. I just hope..¡±. He couldn¡¯t finish his sentence as Lyvia couldn¡¯t contain herself anymore.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°What the hell is wrong with you?! A monster that isn¡¯t even fully tamed?! Oh sorry, it just identifies anything it sees as a threat, what the hell is wrong with you?! How in the world do you think it¡¯s a good idea to take a poorly tamed giant mass of razor sharp thorns and iron vines when you visit someone?!¡±


    ¡°Ehm, well I wanted to¡­¡±


    ¡°And what in the hell makes you think it¡¯s okay to rip a hole in our wall, invade our house and have your Liffey, or whatever you call it, grab our son?!¡±, she shouted. Lyvia was livid, yet she didn¡¯t get to continue her rant as she once again felt a shoulder on her hand.


    ¡°Dear, it¡¯s okay. Daelyn is doing fine and the old man is here to talk, not to get scolded, so please leave him a bit of dignity.¡±, Grey said in an endearing tone in an attempt to quell the rage of a mother. Luckly, it worked.


    ¡°Grey, come on! That man just almost killed Daelyn with that monstrous apparition, and you want me to ¡®leave him with a bit of dignity¡¯?!¡±


    Grey continued in a hushed tone, hoping that the old man standing across from them wouldn¡¯t hear.


    ¡°Honey, what do you think will happen when we make a ruckus with this man? Thievery isn¡¯t looked kindly upon in the village, even if it¡¯s from an outsider. Please, we can let him go for now and get him on our own terms, but he¡¯s holding most of the cards like this.¡±


    Several moments of silence followed, before Lyvia turned around and walked off with Daelyn in hand. She walked towards their little house, intent on making the necessary preparations for if this man and his abomination ever come close to their home, and a little on more on the side.


    Grey and the balding dinol were left alone, following the contours of mother and son as they disappeared into the house.


    The old man sighed, visibly relaxing as his lungs deflated.


    ¡°Is your woman always that intense? By everything that is up there, that was nerve-wracking. How do you deal with that on a daily basis?¡±, the old man¡¯s relaxed expression failed to defuse the situation, as Grey remained stoic.


    Silence filled the glade for several moments, only broken by the muffled sound coming from inside the house.


    ¡°Fine, I guess I will start. I will drop the charges concerning theft, but I want something in return.¡±, the old man¡¯s relaxed expression had transformed into the sleezy smile of a certain brand of merchant¡¯s Grey knew all too well.


    ¡°State you claims, I might be more tempted to deal with the town guard than with you.¡±


    The cold expression on the alchemist¡¯s face could hardly be watered down, so the old man decided that a more direct approach would work on a fool¡¯s game.


    ¡°I propose a trade, I have something you want and you have something I want.¡±


    The words lingered in the air for several moments.


    ¡°Daelyn is ours.¡±


    The old man smiled gleefully, ¡°I never mentioned what I wanted, did I? It¡¯s quite simple really, I¡¯m but a simple farmer. A man who lives off the produce off his land, yet I¡¯m unable to sell, much less process my own produce.¡±, the old man waited once again, content to see Grey make his own conclusion.


    ¡°So you want to sell your produce to me? At what price?¡±


    ¡°For now, I will keep it simple. You can use anything you want, but I want a share of everything that you sell. Any products you don¡¯t use for experimental purposes are yours, just don¡¯t think I don¡¯t know the difference between experimentation and making small batches at a time and calling that an ¡®experiment¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Alright, what share do you want?¡±, Grey¡¯s stoic expression remained, suggesting that the option of walking out on the deal was still very much a reality.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fair, for every four potions you sell, I want the profits of one. So, twenty out of a hundred.¡±, the old man stated as if it were a very reasonable offer. However, Grey was screaming internally.


    ¡®What?!?!?!¡±, was the only thing his mind could produce at such mirthful deal being plopped down in front of him. Luckily, his mind caught up after several moments. His response was blunt yet warranted.


    ¡°Are those all of your conditions? It¡¯s hard to believe that you would give me such an unfair deal.¡±


    ¡°Only time will tell if this little agency of buyers and sellers will hold up. Decide Theandor, yes or no.¡±, the old man¡¯s smile hadn¡¯t waned for a second since the beginning of the conversation, cementing Grey¡¯s image of the man as a sleezy old merchant, a silver tong and a bag filled with gold.


    ¡°I agree, on one condition. You promise me no harm befalls to me or my family. The contract will be voided the moment one of your little monsters show up and causes mayhem, understood?¡±


    ¡°I agree to your little contract. Your family will suffer no harm by me or my creations, but I have the feeling such a condition would hardly be necessary.¡±, the old man nodded towards the house behind them, where Lyvia and Daelyn were looking at the large plant monster lurking about on the edge of the glade. The two were engrossed in observing the large creature, both in their own ways. Lyvia had the look of a stone cold killer on her face, betraying nothing except the silent urge to end whatever had met her ire. Daelyn on the other hand, looked at the mass of vines and thorns with amazement, as the little boy couldn¡¯t help but be hypnotized by the Liffyd and its odd behaviour.


    ¡°There is no such thing as too much safety, especially when it comes to family.¡±, Grey¡¯s voice suggested nothing but an iron will and a plight to protect his loved ones.


    ¡°You certainly are wiser than you seem, Dori¨¤n. I hope your son learns something from you two. Few dinol realise the importance of family nowadays.¡±, the old man¡¯s voice went quiet as he stared off into the woods. Grey¡¯s stoic expression finally broke, as the unexpected remark caught him by surprise. The silence lasted several seconds, before the old man snapped out of it with a shake of his head.


    ¡°Expect the first shipment of produce in a few days, it will mostly consist of sample sized products, so don¡¯t expect much.¡±, the brisk pace of the old man was in line with his voice, as the inhibited tone suggested both a control over the situation and a small amount of trust in his new business partner.


    Grey watched the old man mount his monster and disappear into the woods, the only sound breaking the silence of the small glade being the leaves rustled by the wind. The odd encounter had left a bad taste in his mouth. He couldn¡¯t pinpoint the cause, yet he knew that this man would be playing a bigger role in their lives, for better or for worse.


    Grey had never been very religious, yet in that moment, he prayed to whatever being there was that governed the threads of fate upon which they wandered to save his family from harm.


    He turned around and strode off towards the house after peering into the woods for one final time, assuring that there was nothing more to be seen aside from the usual flora and fauna. The small glade quickly passed by, the doorframe to his home welcoming him with the smell of warm tea, and the voices of his wife and child bringing joy to his heart.


    Lyvia and Daelyn were sitting on the floor, legs crossed, and Daelyn in Lyvia¡¯s lap. She was reading another one of his books to him, a tale of an unlikely romance between one of the high nobility and a commoner, culminating in a scandal of unknown proportions. It was quite comical to see the two of them read through it, as Lyvia became more and more ensnared by the story, while Daelyn just seemed confused with the inconsistencies in the plot showing up from time to time.


    He knocked against the wooden doorframe to draw their attention, earning a smile from both of them. Lyvia stood up, leaving Daelyn alone with an encyclopaedia and a map of the forest pinned to the wall. They had been lucky to pick those two up, as the local owner of the bookshop seemed to have a weak spot for their little bookworm.


    ¡°Did you two come to an agreement? I can make him pay if he threatened you in any way.¡±, a gleam in Lyvia¡¯s eyes suggested that she was more ready than her tone suggested, yet Grey didn¡¯t pursue the subject any further. The experiences of his lovely partner expressing her rage in morally ambiguous ways couldn¡¯t be counted on two hands, feet, and nights of sleeplessness caused by them.


    ¡°We did come to an agreement. We have come to a deal where I process part of his produce, sell that, and give him a part of the profits. In return, he allows me to use any of his produce for experimentation for free, and has vowed to never harm us.¡±


    There was a silence for several seconds, before Lyvia sighed and turned around, stomping off towards the room on the far end.


    ¡°Grey, I know you love you trade, but can¡¯t you think straight for one second. What kind of fumes got into you this morning that you came up with this idea?!¡±


    ¡°Lyvia, I know it seems dangerous, but there¡¯s a lot for us to gain from it! Selling potions made from that produce could put me on the same level as the alchemist¡¯s conglomerate. It could even set my products above theirs!¡±, Grey¡¯s voice began to pick up as he recounted the benefits he had thought up.


    ¡°Grey, that is all well and true, but at what price? What do we know about this man, this old dinol with a giant ¡®Lyffid¡¯ who destroyed the wall to your atelier? How do you know we can trust him, how do you know he isn¡¯t just some old freak who wants to use us?¡±, Lyvia¡¯s worries were loud, clear, and reasonable.


    She opened the door, revealing just a glimpse of the usually locked and forbidden room. It revealed little, but a gleam of metal and the outlining of a chest studded with iron. The door closed quickly after Lyvia entered, cutting off any conversation as Grey was sentenced to think about his wrongdoings.


    The evening passed quietly after that, as even the local fauna remained quiet.

 Chapter 7

    <h1>Chapter 7</h1>


    The night passed quickly and quietly, as the local fauna was surprisingly quiet. Morning came with a flash, and a heavy atmosphere, as the Theandor household was not looking forward to dealing with the coming day. Grey was too tired to speak, especially after the wonder brew had been destroyed in the scuffle of the previous day, and Lyvia could only dread the mountain of dirt she would have to move to fill the crater she had made.


    The morning started slowly because of this, as even the energetic Daelyn couldn¡¯t make the two adults dread their imminent responsibilities.


    Today¡¯s breakfast was a silent one, as even the birds could be heard singing just outside their window. The singing managed to brighten the family¡¯s morning, as they became lost in the high, and occasionally low, mating calls.


    He regarded the small family with curiosity, seeing himself as both a part of it and an outsider. He had thought long and hard what he would be to the family and he couldn¡¯t find a definition for what he was to them, as he couldn¡¯t find a definition for himself. He knew that both He and It were alive, as they were both thinking, although He did have to broaden the term ¡®think¡¯ for It to fit in. Nevertheless, they were both alive but only one of them really existed. Only of them was able to leave marks on the world, however infinitely small they may be, making it so that in He¡¯s logic, only one of them really ¡®existed¡¯.


    ¡®But that doesn¡¯t make any sense! I exist, I am here, I can think, I just can¡¯t do anything to the world like that little brat can. I exist in my own eyes, yet do I really exist in the eyes of the world? Am I able to exist only within another¡¯s mind as a backdrop, a voice which whispers sweet nothings and the answers to which they don¡¯t understand? How can I be more than that? How can I really ¡®exist¡¯?¡¯


    He became lost in his philosophical pondering, losing track of the outside world as It had done. The birds chipper served as an excellent backdrop, before it suddenly fell away.


    ¡°What happened?¡±, resounded from the outside world.


    ¡°Why are the birds so silent?¡±, said another voice.


    It hadn¡¯t said a thing, but He didn¡¯t need to hear anything, as he could see It bouncing around like a loaded spring inside of their shared space. It¡¯s inner anxiety clearly couldn¡¯t contain itself, as the outside world started to shift. It started looking around, hurrying to the window alongside its parents in an attempt to find out what silenced the birds.


    They did not need to wait long, as a mass of green vines became visible through the trees, carrying the same old man that had broken the wall of the downstairs atelier.


    He decided that he would stay quiet, as his thoughts would simply distract from the peculiar old man coming their way. Pondering while It was busy tearing down the fabric of their small reality was impossible at any rate, so He might as well enjoy the show.


    The small family simply stared at the old man being carried by the Liffyd. The green mass of vines slowly pushed itself off the ground through moving its vines sideways, making it seem as if a mass of a thousand entangled snakes were moving towards their house, creeping closer in an almost unnaturally quiet way.


    The singing hadn¡¯t completely stopped, as a chorus of muffled desperation rang out from the large creature. The previously calming songs couldn¡¯t be compared to the pain and imminent death scenes that this creature emitted. The old man seemed to notice, and he snapped his fingers as he turned towards the Liffyd. The cries suddenly intensified, before ending with a multitude of abrupt *snap*s. Content, the old man turned back towards the family, creeping closer at an even-faster rate than before.


    Lyvia stepped away from the window and towards the downstairs atelier with a grim expression. Grey was about to stop her but decided to simply follow in her wake on second thought. He took Daelyn¡¯s hand and progressed down towards the atelier, looking down out of the impromptu window that the remainder of the mostly patched up wall provided them.


    Lyvia was as unnaturally fast as always, as she had already reached the forest floor. She stood opposite of the green giant, still wearing an agitated and grim expression. She welcomed the old man with tough leather armour and a rapier with a slanted kite shield in hand, ready to cut away at the Liffyd.


    ¡°What the hell are you doing here so early in the morning?! And why is that monster of yours torturing those little birds?!¡±, Lyvia¡¯s voice cut through the glade like a sharpened blade.


    ¡°Well, I said I would deliver my first batch of supplies within a few days.¡±, the old man¡¯s smile turned gleeful once more, ¡°I had a bit of free time on my hands, so I thought ¡®why don¡¯t I pop in?¡¯¡±, his remark was reinforced by several pained high pitched squeals coming from the birds, before they were abruptly silenced with a quiet *pop*. The sound of bone and tissue being mushed into paste resounding throughout the clearing, earning a glare from both Grey and Lyvia, and giving little Daelyn a sickly pale expression.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I ever specified you having to bring your creation along with you, did I?¡±, Grey¡¯s voice turned solemn once again. The relaxed morning with his family had been interrupted by the horrible sight of this old man, and he wasn¡¯t going to let this pest get the better of him.


    ¡°Well, I took it as a given. I can hardly be expected to carry these fragile containers here all by myself. Aging doesn¡¯t do much good for us dinol, you know?¡±


    Grey remained silent at this, preferring to meet the man face to face to make some adjustments to their partnership. Lyvia wasn¡¯t as content with such a treatment.


    ¡°Well, how about I alleviate those backpains for you with a little prick? It doesn¡¯t take much, just one little prick with this, and it¡¯s all over.¡±, Lyvia¡¯s eyes shone with murder, her tong tracing her lips as she emphasised each ¡®prick¡¯.


    ¡°I won¡¯t be needing any acupuncture, thank you very much. I prefer herbal tea.¡±¡¯, the old man¡¯s upright demeanour seemed comical.


    ¡°In that case, I know some wonderful herbs which would do an even better job. They just take a little while, that¡¯s all.¡±, her expression hadn¡¯t changed, as her adventuring days were slowly coming back to her. The days of fighting, exploring unchartered territory, and entertaining certain guests had left her with a wide arsenal of techniques, weapons, and an attitude for all that is unsavoury.


    ¡°I will see whatever your husband can make of it. A potion for backpain wouldn¡¯t be impossible, would it?¡±


    Lyvia was about to draw her rapier, yet Grey stepped in from behind. He had hurried down, trying to get down as quickly as he could while ensuring that the little boy tailing him wouldn¡¯t fall down the stairs.


    ¡°Honey, I will handle this one. You can have his skin later, just let me have these products.¡±


    Lyvia stomped off with a ¡®humph¡¯, leaving the two men once again alone to deal with their trades. The old man looked uneasy, as if he had something to get off his chest. Grey decided that it wouldn¡¯t be worth the time, as the morning was already practically ruined with his arrival. The only thing that could cheer him up now was a fresh batch of high-quality ingredients, and he was looking right at them.


    ¡°What do you have for me this time? I can¡¯t wait to get my hands on whatever is in that barrel.¡±, an enthusiastic smile from Grey blew away all tension. The atmosphere relaxed, as the old man¡¯s visibly calmed.


    ¡°I¡¯m too old for this.¡±, he muttered under his breath. He leisurely walked to Grey, thoughts of confusion bubbling in his mind as he couldn¡¯t wrap his head around the suddenly relaxed attitude of his new business partner, or scam victim, whatever you call it.


    Meanwhile, Lyvia had hurried over to Daelyn, making sure that the little boy didn¡¯t get too close to the monstrosity. Grey¡¯s perusing through the containers was interrupted by a curt hock. He turned around, finding the old man standing there with an annoyed and slightly perplexed expression.


    ¡°What are you looking at me for? Can¡¯t I be excited to finally get my hands on whatever weird farm has you producing enormous Liffyds like it¡¯s nothing?¡±, he said with a melodramatic voice that carried the usual mix of contemptuous observations and unbounded enthusiasm for his trade.


    ¡°Why are you so calm?¡±, the old man didn¡¯t do anything to mask his incredulity, ¡°Your wife and I were at each other¡¯s throats just moments earlier!¡±, the old man said in a confounded voice. He couldn¡¯t fathom how this man would be so calm while a threat approached his home so closely, how he could let his offspring run along while a creature, a magnificent one, with maws large enough to devour him whole. He just couldn¡¯t understand how this man could be so confident in his ability to safeguard his family while being so lenient with their security.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you can claim any rights from being old when you don¡¯t have the wisdom to back it up, old man. Look closely, and I think you¡¯ll know why I¡¯m so calm.¡±, he turned back to the crates, perusing through them further, smiling as he found rare after rare ingredient. The possibilities for different potions, poisons, acids, ointments, soaps and a whole host of other products flooded his mind, awakening the eager alchemist inside of him, alongside the childish glee of feeling like a kid in a candy store.


    He reached into his pockets and took out a pair of gloves. He put them on, before carefully sampling the ingredients as to ascertain their quality. The gloves were a nice add on, making it clear that the dark elf had completely ignored the almost rabid mage standing behind him, preferring to pick through the poisonous and corrosive contents of a box instead of worrying about someone accusing him of laxness.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    He picked up a peculiar plant, one that was very comparable to a blade of grass, only showing slight differences around the roots which were a deep green instead of the normal bleak white. The grass seemed inverted, its roots sprouting upwards as if they were the true blades of grass.


    ¡°I have only heard of this plant, but this must the cave root grass, right?¡±, Grey said. He looked up from the crate with the enthusiasm of a child, both baffled and energized by the quality, quantity, and diversity of unique and exotic plants the crate contained. He expected another enthusiast to be standing right next to him, yet instead he found an agitated and raving old man.


    ¡°How are you so damned calm?! Your son is breaking every rule of common sense by running towards seven metres high Liffyd! How in the world can you allow such a thing to happen?! By the seven world trees, you¡¯re being more irresponsible than the eldritch churches!¡±, any calmness or tiredness in the old man¡¯s voice had been replaced by a confounded exasperation. He stomped his foot like a small child, earning a curious glance from Grey and a glare from Lyvia who was standing at the other side of the glade.


    ¡°Churches?¡±


    The old man grimaced: ¡°Don¡¯t make me repeat myself and answer the damned question.¡±


    Silence reigned for several seconds, before Grey faintly smiled and pointed at Lyvia.


    ¡°She is the reason I am so calm.¡±, he said while standing up from his squatted position. The raving old man would leave him with few opportunities to sample the goods, so he opted to enjoy the sight with his family instead. He calmly walked over towards the two, rubbing Daelyn¡¯s head while giving Lyvia a slight kiss, which warranted an ¡®Eww¡¯ from Daelyn.


    The family seemed to completely forget the old man standing behind them, simply revelling in the sight that unfolded in front of them, as the large Liffyd became more and more insecure as the trio stared at it. Daelyn with a gaze of curiosity, Lyvia with a cold sneer, and Grey staring through the thing with a dreamy expression, all three staring at the poor monster and each of them invoking a different instinctual reaction in the beast. It had such a hard time on whether deciding to inspect the gullible prey, hide from the silent but watchful predator, or satiate its own curiosity.


    It couldn¡¯t act on any of its instincts, as its master commanded it. The order was quick and precise, ¡®pick me up and head home¡¯. It was all that was necessary to get the creature to move, as its basic instincts were pushed to the back while the urge to do master¡¯s bidding nagged it unrelentingly, subsiding only when the creature moved towards its master. The old man stood there with a small amount of seeds in his hand, shaking them to create a small noise which the Liffyd instantly picked up on. The large beast bounded towards its creator, hungry for whatever it was that was in his hand.


    ¡®Good job. When we get home, you get eat some more.¡¯, resounded through its mind.


    The Liffyd obeyed, stimulated by both the fear of the predator still glaring daggers at it and the promise of food. The mass of green snakes slithering towards the old man elicited a smile from him, as his orders needed no apparent reinforcement for once, kindling a hope that the Liffyd finally had some apparent sway over its own instincts through the old man¡¯s orders.


    ¡®He might actually be useful¡¯, he thought optimistically, before realizing the effect the trio standing near him had on the Liffyd, as it clearly diverged from its path simply to evade them.


    ¡®For the sake of all that is otherworldly, damn this thing!¡¯


    The old man contemplated casting a hex on the plant monster, before he was interrupted by one the trio, the one he had least expected to address him in any form.


    ¡°Sir, who are you? And why are you so mad at the plant monster?¡±, asked Daelyn.


    The little boy had been puzzled by the man from the moment he saw him, both of him were. The old man had a monstrosity at its bidding, yet he grumbled at seemingly every movement of the giant monster. The critique was only indicated by the old man¡¯s facial expression, yet his temperament allowed anyone close by to see his emotions. Lastly, but most importantly, was the influence the old man was able to exert over the large creature.


    The question remained hanging in the air, unanswered as it was the old man¡¯s turn to be stunned, and the Theandor¡¯s turn to be embarrassed, as they had failed to even get the man¡¯s name, while he was threatening their homestead.


    The old man burst out laughing, slapping his knees in delight as if he were a character in a children¡¯s book. The laughter filled the clearing, defusing the tension as if a loaded spring was suddenly cleared of force.


    ¡°My, my, my. I forgot to introduce myself, didn¡¯t I?¡±, he said between wheezing breaths as he recovered from the uproarious laughter. ¡°Well, this might be a bit of a chance for everyone here. None of us got to formally introduce ourselves, so let¡¯s start over and try to forget all that happened. Deal?¡±, he said with a more eased and relaxed expression which only bolstered the sudden diffusion of the situation.


    ¡°I will forgive you, but I won¡¯t forget what happened.¡±, Lyvia said as she snapped back from lukewarm to frigid.


    ¡°Eh, I¡¯ll get what I can get. So, shall I start by introducing myself?¡±, the old man waited for several moments, ¡°I will take that as a ¡®yes¡¯. My name is Anatoly Miraniye, but I mostly go by Tanner, and I am a hedge mage. I mainly specialise in raising plant like monsters and growing exotic crops, I think these two are interchangeable, but some seek to differ.¡±, he finished with a genuine smile. The mention of his passion truly invigorated the man, as he seemed to temporarily forget the Dori¨¤n that was staring daggers at him.


    Silence reigned for several moments as Tanner waited for the opposite side to introduce themselves. His patience was partly rewarded, as Grey nudged Lyvia to start with herself. Some bickering later, Lyvia stepped forward and opened herself up to Tanner.


    ¡°My name is Lyvia Theandor. I mainly practise swordsmanship with an emphasize on the larger and heavier weapons, while I also dabble in hand to hand combat. Besides that, I enjoy visiting the village, and taking care of my little walnut.¡±, she said as she pulled Daelyn closer. The little boy didn¡¯t seem to mind, as he looked up and smiled at her, receiving one in return.


    The mother son moment lasted only moments, as Daelyn seemed all too eager to step forward and introduce himself.


    ¡°My name is Daelyn. I like reading and playing outside, which I think are interchangeable, but some want to differ. Besides that, I help my dad making potions sometimes and follow the training regimen my mama gave me.¡±, the little boy said with a smile as bright as a flashbang, causing Tanner to recoil slightly.


    ¡°Why does your child seem like an apostle of the sun?¡±, he said with a faux pained expression.


    ¡°I think you have been inside for too long, old fart. He gets a healthy dose of parental love and sunlight, maybe you should try some of the latter.¡±, Lyvia hissed at him.


    ¡°Lyvia, what did we say at the start of our introductions? A clean slate, so let¡¯s keep it that way.¡±, Grey said, ¡°Besides, we¡¯re older than him so ¡®old fart¡¯ isn¡¯t really appropriate, it is?¡±.


    ¡°Could you please stop reminding me of my age? I know my ninetieth autumn passed, so you don¡¯t need to keep reminding me. Besides, shouldn¡¯t you support your wife instead of the creepy old man at our doorstep.¡±, Lyvia said in her faux hurt voice.


    ¡°Yes, yes, next time a boar the size of a carriage shows up I will make certain that it doesn¡¯t come close, okay?¡±


    Lyvia¡¯s face flushed with red. ¡°That¡¯s is different, and you know it! Bac was a good pet and he wouldn¡¯t hurt Daelyn in a thousand summers!¡±


    ¡°Oh yes, the enormous boar named whose name is short for bacon isn¡¯t going to do anything unpredictable! I couldn¡¯t think of anything safer for a child. Well, maybe a horde of ghoulish racoons!¡±


    The conversation quickly devolved into a mental endurance contest, as the two competitors continued showering each other with one-liners, quips and outright insults. Tanner¡¯s face shifted from its earlier jovial expression to one filled with confusion, as he could hardly comprehend the change in conversation between the two people who were his senior by at least at most a few years.


    The trance was broken by a small tug on his robe. He came face to face with the little boy as he looked down. The small child had a gleam in his eyes that he recognised as a scholar and a dedicated magician, the desire for knowledge accompanied with an unbound curiosity. This unbound curiosity was about to unleash itself, but Tanner had rarely failed in recognising a potential threat and neutralising it before it came to flourish.


    ¡°Hush, it seems that you have a lot of queries, but they will need to be answered at another time. You said you liked reading, right?¡±, Daelyn nodded vigorously at this, ¡°In that case, you can visit my little farm at any time to ask any question you want and read any book I have. But, you do have to discuss this with your parents, understood?¡±. Daelyn marvelled at this, nodding even more vigorously than previously, making it seem like his spine had the flexibility of the vines hanging overhead.


    The old man smiled, radiating a childlike enthusiasm in the way Daelyn had done only moments before, only a little more masked by wrinkles. He was saddened by the thought of leaving this little scholar in the making without anything of a book, so he took out a little booklet from his coat. The cover was full of scribbles, both intricate, enthusiastic, and childlike.


    ¡°This little thing has served me well for many years, I know it will serve you just as well.¡±, he smiled at the eagerness in the little boy¡¯s eyes, ¡°There¡¯s a little trick to this book, you don¡¯t need anything to write in it! Just trace out the words with anything, and the words will magically appear! Make sure not to write too much though, you might get dizzy.¡±


    He carefully handed over the little booklet to Daelyn, before righting himself and turning towards the squabbling couple.


    ¡°I do think we¡¯re done here, so I¡¯ll be leaving. Expect me within the week, with a fresh batch of ingredients.¡±, he turned around and walked over towards his mount.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare bring that thing here next time!¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t make any promises!¡±, Tanner burst out laughing as he stepped on one of the many vines, before being whisked away as the monster began to move through the trees. The old man disappeared and left the Theandor family with a pile of dust and brighter future in a few simple containers.


    ¡°Well, let¡¯s get this inside, shall we? We don¡¯t want to have a bunch of exotic plants standing outside for something to find them, do we?¡±, Grey said in a calm tone.


    ¡°You better put something worthy of this on the table, because I¡¯m not going to let you get away with this otherwise.¡±, Lyvia¡¯s expression suggested no respite, yet Grey knew better.


    ¡°What do you mean by ¡®this¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Aside from using me as a mule for your ingredients and making a deal with what might be a devil? I don¡¯t know, you tell me.¡±


    ¡°Point taken.¡±


    The two Dynn Dori¨¤n calmly walked towards their home, Grey with a crate in his hand and Lyvia with two barrels on her shoulders. One huffing and puffing, and the other just smiling away at her little son, who was engrossed with the little booklet in his hands.


    The little boy looked eagerly through the little booklet, scanning through everything that had already been written. Finding everything from history, herbalism, and alchemy to battle tactics, different exotic weapons, and even one or two basic spells inscribed in the little booklet. For once, both he and it were reading something with full attention, scanning every page before finally arriving at first clean slate. The first page which belonged to them, the start of their chronicles.

 Chapter 8

    <h1>Chapter 8</h1>


    Daelyn spent the following morning reading through the little booklet, making out individual words and short sentences, yet never really grasping the message behind the assortment of odd scribbles and barely readable symbols. The texts served more to confuse the little boy than teach him, as the absence of any form of visual representation or a description for one of the many idioms scattered throughout each page of the child-sized tome did little more than confuse Daelyn.


    He had spent the morning trying to decipher the first few pages of the little booklet which turned about to be a medium sized tome, as the number of pages contained in the thing seemed incongruous with its size. Nevertheless, Daelyn had tried again and again to plough through the indecipherable texts, yet both he and it failed in making any headway through the wall of symbols, scribbles, and characters which resembled drawings more than letters.


    The morning had started as usual for the Theandor family, with both Lyvia and Grey waking shortly after each other, mostly due to their little game of poking their sleeping partner. Grey had the privilege of finally catching Lyvia off guard after at least a week of waking under a barrage of poking fingers and hands that were a little too invasive. His revenge was sweet yet short lived, as his lovely wife tackled him to the floor within moments of his victory, draining both herself and her partner of any drowsiness and waking little Daelyn.


    The couple had split off during the morning, both hiding away in their own little part of the house. Lyvia kept to herself in the locked room, while Grey simply commenced the task of trying to complete an incremental amount of his workload. The focus of both parents on their respective trades left their offspring free to do as they please.


    Daelyn had quickly left bed after Grey and Lyvia¡¯s little scuffle, grabbing the notebook Tanner had given him and sitting down in his own little room, away from the prying eyes of his parents. The little boy had done everything in his childish mind to hide Tanner¡¯s gift. His thoughts were conflicted, as he wished to retain the knowledge in the tome, yet he could hardly bear the thought of lying and deceiving his parents.


    ¡®I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll take it away. It came from mister Anatoly, and mom doesn¡¯t seem to like her.¡¯


    Luckily, Daelyn wasn¡¯t alone in his plight, nor was he in his enthusiasm.


    ¡®Yes! Yes, yes, yes! I knew that old man would have something interesting! Finally, a chance to read whatever this world is about!¡¯, He stared through the translucent orbs and into the world of colours beyond, where the beige pages of paper lay there for both of them, unwavering in their inability to be understood and unrelenting in the harrying assault it brought to their collective psyche as the duo tried to regardless.


    ¡®Well, crap.¡¯


    The morning continued with this same sentiment, as the two inhabitants of the same body could help only themselves in reaching an understanding regarding the odd texts. Their plight was theirs and theirs alone, as no outside help could be called in.


    Their musings, rumblings, and simple abandonment at times of the subject matter was suddenly interrupted, as a cry of anguish followed by a waterfall of sobs rang throughout the little cottage. The sound originated from the downstairs atelier, where the muffled sound of a slightly panicked Grey could be heard from. The sound was quickly followed by hurried steps towards the living room, which in turn was accompanied by the violent slamming of a wooden door, before Lyvia joined Grey in his panicking.


    Daelyn slowly got up after listening for a few more minutes, silently hoping that the noise would go away, and he would be able to read through the book in peace. Alas, it was not meant to be so. He walked towards the living room, peering through the doorframe into the living room.


    Celeria sat there crying like a child. She was unable to form a coherent sentence, as each word came between wheezed breaths. The momentary realisation of her inability to speak only deepened her grief, as another shriek reverberated through the small room. Daelyn covered his ears at this banshee like shriek, which gave him the time to observe Celeria¡¯s state.


    The poor woman covered in small bruises and cuts on her clothes. She had most likely travelled here by foot on the forest floor in the quickest pace she could manage.


    ¡°Lyvia¡±, she said between stammers, ¡°T-they are g-going t-to take Dal away!¡±, the woman cried out, leaping into her friend¡¯s arms.


    ¡°What do you mean Dalarius is going away? Who are ¡®they¡¯?¡±


    ¡°The draft! The draft! He¡¯s been drafted! All members of the guard have been mobilised!¡±


    ¡°Mobilised? For what?!¡±


    ¡°T- the frontline! D-Dalarius is going to fight at the eastern border!¡±, Celeria said in between sobs. The poor woman could hardly be comforted when her beloved was off to the battlefield, fighting in a war of survival for his nation, while his own was at stake.


    The two standing over her could give her little solace, as all knew the stories of the frontline, and all knew that few returned from such a meatgrinder. Even the famed Dynn Dori¨¤n and their physical prowess saved them from an inevitable demise by the hands of a horde of enemies. The quality of their troops was top notch, yet the enemy had quantity that far outmatched theirs, resulting in a stalemate of gore and casualties.


    ¡°How do you know this? There must be some kind of mistake, right?! Who the hell authorised this?!¡±, Lyvia shouted. She was about to spit fire, her frustration lighting up like a bonfire.


    ¡°T-the council of seven did.¡±, Celeria¡¯s defeated voice rang through the living room, silencing all the commotion in both their hearts and minds. The highest power in the kingdom had decreed for her husband to travel halfway across the nation to fight on a front where there was little but blighted land.


    The trio turned quiet, ruminating on what to do. Celeria simply stared out into the distance, nothing entering nor leaving her mind, just an empty void of thought.


    ¡®What the hell is going on?! A draft?! For Eleanor¡¯s sake, we¡¯re already stretched thing! How in the hell do they expect us to deliver any produce?! The farm workers are already working overtime just to keep the fields from growing over, never mind the goddamned monster infestations! Who in the hell is going to clear those out now that the guards are gone?!¡¯, Lyvia¡¯s temperament started to boil.


    Her frustrations reached a breaking point, edging her towards rushing to the village manor and giving Elrieden a piece of her mind. A tug on her leg shifted her attention away, and quickly melted any frustration she had.


    Daelyn was staring up at his mother with curious and slightly concerned eyes.


    ¡°Mom, what¡¯s going on? Why is she crying?¡±, the little boy sweetly asked.


    Lyvia smiled at her son, patting his head. She shifted her position to let Celeria rest on her shoulder while they sat the ground, cradling her like an overgrown child.


    ¡°A few things have happened, sweaty. Adult things, things you shouldn¡¯t worry about, okay?¡±, Lyvia held a faux smile in an attempt to sweet talk her own son.


    Daelyn simply nodded, trotting off towards Grey who was preparing breakfast for the family and their new visitor. The little boy disappeared behind his mother¡¯s back, followed by Celeria¡¯s gaze as she recognised that clumsy step, reminding her of her own daughters.


    Lyvia pulled her out of her lucid dreaming.


    ¡°Cel, I know that it¡¯s hard, but you need to tell me everything you know. I need every detail you have, understood?¡±, her friend quietly nodded, ¡°Good. Now, did only the guards get drafted, or will there be more?¡±Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Do you know when they¡¯re leaving?¡±


    ¡°Today.¡±


    ¡°Do you- wait, what do you mean ¡®today¡¯?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re leaving today. Elrieden will hold a feast for their leave in the afternoon, but they¡¯re gone by nightfall.¡±


    ¡°That helps Cel. Now, we¡¯re going to do a few things, okay? First, you¡¯re going to go home and get your girls. Secondly, we¡¯re going to eat lunch together. Thirdly, we¡¯re going to the village manor and see what we can do. Elrieden isn¡¯t a lich, so he must be able to show some compassion and help, right?¡±, Lyvia¡¯s attempt at comforting Celeria succeeded, causing the previously downtrodden woman to cast a new light on the situation, creating a spark of hope for her.


    ¡°You¡¯re right. Yes, you¡¯re right! We can do something against this!¡±


    ¡°But first, lunch.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right. I¡¯ll go get the girls, shouldn¡¯t take that long. Hope you have enough food for three more mouths!¡±, Celeria¡¯s previously depressed face lighted up like a candle, regaining its usual vigour and robustness. She rushed off, speeding through the doorway and out into the open like an arrow being released from a bow.


    The Theandor family was left with a nasty feeling, as they had seen the sudden vigour induced by the slightest hope of redemption in Celeria spring up like an infection. The sight of their lifelong friend being destroyed by the forces which reigned over them in this mortal plane were devastating, as it was hard to even realise what was happening.


    They spent several minutes in silence, contemplating the change in stance their lords had undertaken.


    The realisation that they weren¡¯t alone in this was both horrifying and incomprehensible, as each village would be suffering the loss of their most trusted and trained security force, their guard regiment. The thought that all over the nation, the people of Eleanor would have to fend for themselves once again was both intriguing and concerning.


    Some would see this as an improvement, a testament to the strength of the nation or the strength of the individual depending on the person you asked. There would be those that would gladly leave their home to fight for the nation, those that would see their local guards off with a smile on their face, yet there would be many, many that would observe these changes with fear. Those who feared the changes saw an unstable nation and a whole host of weakened and unprotected villages, endangering the major food source and their lives in the process.


    These thoughts of unrest coursed through their minds, yet they left worrying for the future. They had a very simple goal now, and that was making a good lunch.


    ¡°Dear, can you get some extra mushrooms, maybe some nuts? I don¡¯t know if I have enough for three extra mouths today.¡±, Grey sat on one of the kitchen chairs, speaking only after having spent several minutes staring blankly at the wall opposite of him. He looked towards Lyvia, who was absentmindedly stroking Daelyn¡¯s hair. Her eyes were glued to the open window, observing the little birds fluttering from branch to branch, calling out to each other at each opportunity. Her lips mimicked the little sounds, touting as the high tones of the birds could only be done through a whistle.


    The soft whistling silenced the room. Grey simply watched this surreal picture, as Lyvia seemed more like a hummingbird dryad, guiding a lost traveller towards the road or their death with sweet songs of simple melodies. The serene sight of his little family emptied Grey¡¯s mind, allowing him only to observe this little oasis of tranquillity in the middle of a nationwide storm.


    Lyvia¡¯s slow whistling was silenced by a rustle of leaves and a muffled shriek, followed by a long silence. The cheerful whistling of the little birds had been silenced by a large predator. The brown feathered thing had a wingspan of close to half a metre, preying on the relatively small and insignificant hummingbirds only because it couldn¡¯t catch anything larger than that, as even the local voles could become too big to swallow.


    The dreary sight of blood had shattered the illusion of tranquillity and brought on the weight of the situation at hand. Lyvia and Grey both stood up, intent on completing the simple task at hand without any more impediments.


    Grey hurried to the kitchen, while Lyvia disappeared down the steps and into the woods. Their respective tasks once again let Daelyn to his own, allowing the little boy to continue cracking his head over the long and undecipherable texts, doing little but to add to his frustration and confusion.


    The Vitafius didn¡¯t make anyone wait, as they arrived shortly after Lyvia and Grey had finished the lunch, giving the couple only seconds before they welcomed a smiling mother and two confused yet cheerful children.


    The sight of both Ayda and Anna being their usual selves surprised Lyvia and Grey, as it hadn¡¯t been the first time they had seen a family be separated through brute force, yet they had rarely seen a smiling or cheerful child on such an occasion. Lyvia and Grey shared a glance, both realising the same thing.


    In such a situation, either they didn¡¯t know, or they didn¡¯t care. Both Grey and Lyvia couldn¡¯t fathom the latter option, so they stuck to their fa?ade, smiling as they welcomed the little family with a warm lunch and open arms. They quietly sat down, starting conversation about small and insignificant topics while ignoring the elephant in the room for the children¡¯s sake. The food was consumed at a relative pace, allowing for more small talk until all was finished. Now, all three parents realized their next stop would be the village, as there was only where they could say goodbye to Dalarius and voice their complaints to Elrieden.


    ¡°Lyvia, are you and Grey going to the little assembly Elrieden is holding tonight? I heard there would be a buffet?¡±, Celeria¡¯s attempt at masking the situation was childlike. Luckily, she needn¡¯t have done more.


    ¡°Yes, it would be fun to attend. I heard it¡¯s something about honouring the guard regiment.¡±, Lyvia joined in on the fa?ade in the same childlike manner Celeria did, fooling only the children in front of them.


    Grey had to fight the urge to rub his eyes in frustration, yet he just kept on smiling. The internal screams of exasperation were outweighed by the thought that these children were about to lose their father one way or another, so he might as well leave them in their na?ve bliss.


    Grey helped the little trio prepare with that thought in mind, organising the little seemingly innocuous trip to the village. They had a double agenda in going to the village, yet Grey hoped that they wouldn¡¯t be lost in trying to reverse what has already been done. He knew Lyvia¡¯s brashness and he had seen the spark of hope in Celeria¡¯s eyes, yet he knew the powers operating from the capital too well to think that they would change their mind now.


    The threshold to the house was quickly crossed, and the little troupe set off towards the village. The three children were hoisted up on their parents¡¯ shoulders or cradled like an infant in Anna¡¯s case. The little girl was far too shy to be sitting on her mother¡¯s shoulder. However, she enjoyed the sight just as much as both Daelyn and Ayda did, marvelling at both the canopy high up in the sky and the forest floor around them.


    The forest of Eleanor was a peculiar place, as the low amount of light would normally mean that little but moss would grow below the canopy, yet the forest floor was littered with all sorts of plants, covering the ground in all sorts of plants which had no business being there. This odd phenomenon of unrestrained growth resulted in a beautiful yet slightly disconcerting forest filled with all kinds of flora, from colourful flowers to venomous plants, coated in a shadow in which they should not be able to survive. The forest gave off a feeling of cold beauty, something to be observed yet not touched, as any meddlers would most likely receive what hides in the darkness beneath the dense wall of flora.


    However, nothing showed itself today. The forest was awfully quiet, as even the small birds which normally pervaded the woods remained silent. The mating calls of the hummingbirds, the low growl of a predator, or the rustling of leaves could only be heard in the distance, muffled by the wall of flora.


    The only sound that slowly seeped through the thick foliage was a muffled thumping, resounding through the forest like a monster was crushing the ground beneath it. It happened again, and again, and again, washing over the little troupe each time with a slight increase in volume. The odd sound made Lyvia fear for the worst, as it was awfully like that of a certain creature she would rather not encounter. The family continued on regardless, mostly ignoring the increasingly loud noise. The sound went on and on, slowly encroaching on the family, until it abruptly stopped.


    Lyvia put balled her fist and put it up in the air, signalling for everyone to stop. They listened carefully, hoping their silence would reveal something. A muffled noise came from the direction of the village, it was vaguely similar to that of a person shouting. A loud war cry resounded from the same direction, quickly followed by a splintering of the earlier noise as it seemed like a herd of centaurs broke out into a mad charge towards the village.


    The group slowed pace after that, slowly encroaching on the village. They circled around the closest gate in a bid to avoid whatever made that noise, but as they got a clear view of the village, they realised such a thing was unnecessary.


    The southern gate was open, with no corpses strew about, no fires to be put out, and, disturbingly, no guards to keep out any unwanted visitors. The place was simply abandoned, yet the streets beyond were filled with noise. The trees surrounding the village were filled with thick branches with many of them overgrown with leaves, giving the village a natural defence against anyone trying to scry information from the small village, yet these obstructed any view the little group could have, resulting in them only being able to observe the situation through sound.


    The situation was clear to Lyvia, Grey and Celeria despite what little tools they were given for observation. The village itself wasn¡¯t in danger, yet Elrieden most likely was, as instead of a horde of goblins or a stampede of centaurs, an angry mob of locals had gathered and were administering due punishment to the village hall, regardless of those inside.

 Chapter 9

    <h1>??Chapter 9</h1>


    The Theandor and Vitafius family cautiously approached the southern gate, abandoning their plan of circling around the wall in order to avoid danger and simply heading straight in. Passing through the open gate was easy enough, as there was no one in sight to stop them. They walked through the streets, spotting the mass of bodies pervading the village square easily enough, and avoiding them just as easily.


    Celeria guided them through the streets towards the barracks, where Dalarius and the other members of the guard would be holding a feast. Elrieden was supposed to attend, yet they had already figured out that such a thing wouldn¡¯t be very practical at the moment for the mayor of the town. Besides, no one was really sure if he would be welcomed.


    The little troupe calmly traversed the streets, only encountering the stray child. The absence of any other family joining their loved ones at the barracks surprised them. They quickened their pace, reasoning that the rest of the assembly must have already arrived.


    They arrived at the barracks minutes later, the children panting while Celeria, Grey and Lyvia just looked on in confusion. The dimly lit barracks were abandoned. There was not a soul in sight, as even a check of the inside revealed nought but whetstones, empty rooms, and a kitchen scoured of any food. There were no marks indicating combat, nor were there any signs indicating a grand feast. There was simply nothing, an abandoned barracks cleared out of anything valuable in a manner any general would be proud to see.


    ¡®No. No, no, no, no, no! Where is he?! They can¡¯t already have left, right?!¡¯, Celeria¡¯s thoughts entered a rollercoaster as she once again descended into a mental landscape blighted by the absence of a loved one. The panic in her eyes were clear to all, as Lyvia quickly moved to support the grieving woman whose knees were already buckling under the mental pressure. Lyvia whispered sweet nothings into Celeria¡¯s ear, attempting to calm the panicking woman down.


    Grey moved towards the children, taking them outside. He couldn¡¯t let Anna nor Ayda see her mother like that, as the consequences of their only parent crying her heart out would raise some unwanted questions and panic.


    ¡®Keep it together Celeria. You have two wonderful little girls you¡¯re now going to have to raise on your own, so you better get your damned business together.¡¯, Grey¡¯s mental admonishment was mirrored by his wide smile, as the attempts at calming down the children were partially successful. Anna and Ayda seemed less confused, yet they retained a quizzical expression. Daelyn seemed cautious, as he kept throwing glances around, eyeing for anything that seemed out of the ordinary.


    ¡®Can¡¯t blame him. An angry mob that large could be a problem to any Dynn Dori¨¤n, let alone a dinol with 5 summers on his belt.¡¯, Grey smiled at the little boy clinging to his leg, putting this one free hand on the little boy¡¯s head. It did little more than ruffle his hair, yet Daelyn looked slightly calmer. The occasional glance was still thrown out to assure safety, and every time the angry mob collectively shouted was accompanied by a wince from the little man, yet the assurance of his father standing next to him helped a little.


    Grey herded the three little children together with little effort, keeping check on their surroundings in the hope of finding someone who could tell them where the hell they were supposed to go. Grey waited for an answer, yet there was nothing but empty streets and the three children he had to entertain.


    Grey continued to entertain the little troupe he had at his disposal while he waited for Lyvia and Celeria to join them, hopefully in a less emotionally unstable state. The minutes passed by, yet the barracks remained silent. The lifeless streets returned to their former emptiness, the silence only occasionally broken by either a muffled shout from the rioting mob, or one of his little troupe speaking up.


    Grey leaned against the barracks¡¯ wall and sat down, content to watch Daelyn, Anna and Ayda playing with each other. The little trio quickly decided on a game of tag, chasing each other around until Daelyn inevitably got tagged, and had to be the tagger. The girls let the little boy get tag them after a little chasing, because the game wouldn¡¯t be fun otherwise.


    On their fifth round of tag, Celeria and Lyvia exited the barracks with a wide smile spanning across Celeria¡¯s face. The large grin was slightly out of tone, suggesting an appearance of satisfaction more than happiness, yet no-one commented, as it would only lead to more grief and more confusion.


    ¡°What¡¯s the plan? Because I don¡¯t think staying here will do us any good.¡±, Grey¡¯s candid voice drew Celeria¡¯s and Lyvia¡¯s attention away from the playing children.


    ¡°Well, I think it would be wise if Lyvia and I scouted out the crowd. Besides that, the only place the guard regiment could fathomably be would be the village hall. We¡¯re going to have to go there, whether we like it or not.¡±, Lyvia¡¯s reply was just as casual and candid as Grey¡¯s, making him reminisce about their adventurer¡¯s days. The days where practicality was put up front, as anything more complicated than a few words should have been discussed beforehand.


    Grey nodded, ¡°I¡¯ll be here with the kids. I¡¯ll leave for home if the situation turns sour. Expect me at the southern gate if any trouble shows up, alright?¡±


    Celeria and Lyvia nodded. They walked over to the little trio staring quizzically at them. The three little children each received a peck on their cheek.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to see what¡¯s going on in the village square, okay? Stay with Grey, he will protect you.¡±, Celeria quietly whispered to both Anna and Ayda while pulling them into an embrace.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be back in a bit, so just stay with papa, okay?¡±, Daelyn curtly nodded at Lyvia¡¯s soft order, ¡°Good boy.¡±. She ruffled his hairs, placing another peck on his cheek.


    The two women left after saying their goodbyes. The two turned towards the village square, setting off with a quick pace with the gazes of their children watching their backs until they abruptly turned around a corner, disappearing into the streets of Elrieden.


    Lyvia and Celeria sped their pace up as they left the sight of their offspring, running through the streets of Elrieden towards the sound of a rioting mob. The noise of violence became clearer as they neared the village square. The streets opened up to the usually bustling village square, which was now filled with a crowd large enough to fill the square itself and a few of the adjacent streets.


    The crowd was chanting wildly, creating a deafening orchestra of pure chaos. However, the lack of coordination meant that it was little more than a collective creation of angry noise, never containing any kind of message during the few minutes Celeria and Lyvia listened in. The never ending verbal violence directed at the village manor was simply deaf to itself, as the disgruntlement of a thousand souls could not be combined in one simple message, until a voice rose up out of the crowd.


    The voice was accompanied by a burly Dynn Dori¨¤n mounting a wooden barrel and shouting at the top of his lungs. The vocal violence still ringing through the village square made the man¡¯s voice imperceptible to Lyvia and Celeria, yet it momentarily silenced the cries of those around him. Those adjacent to the burly shouter took on his message, spreading it out in all directions as the crowd united under one banner.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°Bring out Elrieden!¡±, the man raised his arms, showing himself to be the crucible hardened blacksmith, ¡°Bring out the coward who will doom this village! Bring him out!¡±


    The crowd quieted down, eliciting a sigh of relieve from those high up on the balcony, before they took the blacksmith¡¯s chanting to heart. They raised their fists at the manor.


    ¡°Bring him out!¡±, they raised their fists on the rhythm of the chant, creating a moving mass of bodies that opposed the manor which looked small by comparison. The civil servants bleached, flinching at the crowd¡¯s chanting.


    They faltered, yet they didn¡¯t fall. They tried to calm the crowd through negotiation, they tried it through thaumaturgy, they tried through distraction, yet there was nothing they could do. They didn¡¯t have the force of the guard regiment to enact discipline, so they could only rely on themselves for success and their own protection.


    The situation seemed dire for the mayor, yet it only deteriorated when one of the clerks raised their voices through the thaumaturgy magic.


    ¡°Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Don¡¯t you see that we can¡¯t do anything?!¡±


    He was met with a momentary silence, the crowd quieting down at his admonishment of them. The civil servants calmed slightly, thinking that the silence in the crowd denoted progress.


    The first stone contradicted that. It hit the clerk right next to the aggressor in the head. The damage was luckily minimal, yet it was the snowball that started a grey avalanche of rocks and frustration. The knowledge that the bureaucrats sitting on their high pedestal could do nothing to help them transformed them from a possible solution to a target for the anger and frustration of the crowd.


    They continued their barrage for a dozen minutes, breaking almost all the windows in the manor and chipping away at the walls ever so slightly. Small pieces of bark started down tumble down along the outside of the manor, any window frame which only showed the slightest suspicion of life was pelted with rocks. The clerks had already retreated inside for their own safety, yet the crowd was far from done.


    The first people had already started knocking on the door, and it seemed like the rocks around the manor were starting to run out.


    The crowd continued their chant, the pummelling of the ornate front door continuing on the rhythm. The doors were clearly barricaded, as the simple locking mechanism wouldn¡¯t be able to hold the rioters at bay like this.


    The door was creaking, about to break down, when a sound suddenly overtook the mob¡¯s chanting. The sound of metal on metal, the sound of a battalion banging their weapons on their shields, accompanied by a deep horn.


    The sound gradually came closer, until the streets adjacent to the manor were filled with fully clad soldiers. Their uniforms were meagre to say the least, dark grey leather from a stone salamander common to these woods with a simple iron helmet on top. These soldiers would have impressed few individuals in the crowd, yet their collective mentality screamed fear as the unity of the battalion combatted their anarchy.


    They advanced slowly, driving the rioters back from the square inch by inch. They came like the tide, abating when necessary yet always continuing onwards.


    The crowd slowly started to descend into panic, as the small groups around the manor had already retreated back into the crowd, while the outliers in the crowd were either running away or retreating back into the crowd, compacting the mass of bodies even more. The crowd writhed, scampering away from the incoming threat like a pack of scared dogs, and they were chastised as such.


    Lyvia pulled on Celeria¡¯s arm, pulling her away from the panicking crowd which was about to break into a stampede.


    ¡°We need to go, come on!¡±, Lyvia saw Celeria¡¯s face flush crimson with rage, ¡°You expect to let them go when they took my husband from me?! Let the dogs come!¡±. Celeria stormed off in a rage, leaving Lyvia alone as she disappeared into the crowd. Lyvia took one last look at the village manor, before she turned around and set off towards the barracks, in the hope that she would find her family there.


    The clerks had reappeared on the balcony, hurling insults at the protesters.


    ¡°Run you hairless dogs! That will teach you to mess with the Elders!¡±, the clerks basked in glory as the crowd was driven away by their newly gained ally, ¡°Let¡¯s see you idiots come back after this! Ha!¡±. Their zeal and faith in the system overpowered their common sense, causing them to smear and belittle the very people they were supposed to serve. Revenge was a dish best served cold, yet they were dining on it like it was gourmet.


    The crowd backed up, allowing the battalion to close up the manor and secure it. They blocked over half of the square, not allowing anyone past. They had defused the situation within minutes, and one man stood with his a maniacally grin watching over it all, orchestrating it from behind the lines.


    Eldrin Tyrrith was having a field day.


    ¡®Thank you Eleanor, for blessing me with such an opportunity. The idiotic bureaucrats of this state may be good for something after all!¡¯, Eldrin was having the time of his life. The protest had given him the opportunity to replace the guard regiment. The boon, if only temporary, would be huge, especially if he could pull a few of the Elders from their high horse.


    ¡®Let¡¯s see what they¡¯re going to do now. Elrieden can¡¯t rely on anyone else for protection now, he ain¡¯t rich enough for mercenaries, and his shamans are about as useful as those idiotic clerks. Good cannon fodder, but they won¡¯t be able to do regular patrols in a century.¡¯


    Meanwhile, Elrieden looked up from high up. He was accompanied by Gil Yrricht, the eldest of the guard and the ever vigilant watcher of the manor. They both looked on with dread, as the crowd was pushed back inch by inch by the unofficial police.


    ¡°What the hell is he thinking? Doing whatever he likes with his troupe of clowns?!¡±, he turned to Gil, ¡°He can¡¯t do this, right?! We have to assemble the Elders!¡±.


    Gil simply looked back at Ellith with a soft expression, pinching the bridge of his nose.


    ¡°You do realise that that won¡¯t do anything? The man has the town in his hand with that battalion of his, we need someone to clear out the infestations, and I sure as hell don¡¯t know anyone else who can do it.¡±, he sighed, ¡°Calling an assembly isn¡¯t going to help either. He will be there, and he will have virtually all the power. He can just say ¡®Well, how about I leave you to the wolves then?¡¯ and you know he¡¯s gonna use whenever he can. The man is enjoying his position of power, and there¡¯s nothing we can do.¡±


    Elrieden furrowed his brows in frustration, he balled his fists and stood there like a child, not knowing how to express his anger properly. His mind raced for a solution, hanging onto anything that might deny Eldrin even the slightest bit of power.


    It was then that his expression suddenly cleared, his mouth was gaping, and his eyes were open to a whole new set of possibilities.


    He grinned, ¡°He won¡¯t be enjoying it for long. I¡¯ll make damned sure of that.¡±


    Gil looked quizzically at Ellith as he stormed off, heading down the winding stairs. Gil could only look on as he disappeared from sight, only to pop up several minutes later at the back end of the manor, striding off towards the edge of the town.


    ¡®Thank Eleanor that everyone either left, or headed to the tavern at the south side. They would have torn him to bits if they knew that he was out and about without any guards¡¯, he looked down again, ¡®Never mind, his heir is guarding him. Sometimes I can¡¯t understand how lopsided this family actually is.¡¯, Yrricht pinched the bridge of his nose as he had just witnessed Nero speeding after his father.


    ¡®Let¡¯s just hope that he doesn¡¯t do anything stupid. Well, there is only one thing that could possibly escalate the situation further.¡¯, the old man contemplated Ellith¡¯s purpose in leaving the manor so suddenly, ¡®He wouldn¡¯t do that, right? Nah, he isn¡¯t that stupid.¡¯, an uneasy smile crept up.


    The old man dismissed the thought and continued to monitor the situation in front of the manor. Eldrin and his band had left, leaving only after a slight scuffle with the protestors which had partially stepped down from their confused state under the leadership of a lone woman standing against the wall of shields and clubs. The crowd slowly inched away through the streets, leaving the town through the western and southern gate, with a few stragglers circling around and heading home through either the eastern or northern gate.


    Dusk started to settle, and Gil enjoyed one of the perks that the job provided.


    ¡®Lucky me, seeing sunsets every day.¡¯


    The crowd had dispersed, yet the tension remained. He could see the crowd gathered around the tavern just outside the wall, the drunks that stumbled off, the tables that were filled with lively conversation and fierce shouting. He couldn¡¯t know what they were talking about, but he could guess. Their conversations were easy to decipher, as the crowd started to roar once more.


    The old Dynn was able to make out some of their grievances through his heightened perception after serving several decades as the village¡¯s lookout.


    ¡°Greedy pigs!¡±, ¡°Egoistic pricks¡±, and other insults followed. The conversation topic was clear.


    They despised the council of seven.

 Chapter 10

    <h1>??Chapter 10</h1>


    ¡°What in the hell happened there?! Why in Eleanor¡¯s name did Eldrin and his merry band of dimwits suddenly show up?! We were lucky that the crowd didn¡¯t stampede, otherwise we could have been trampled!¡±, Lyvia was fuming as she paced to and from in the living room, clenching her fists in an effort to relieve some of the stress.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just be glad we got out of there on time. Celeria is still there, you know?¡±, Grey¡¯s head poked up from the little play session he was forced to participate in and tried to cool Lyvia¡¯s nerves. Unfortunately, he failed.


    ¡°Thanks for reminding me! I still have to give her a piece of my mind! What the hell is she thinking, leaping out into the fray and standing in front of a fully armed battalion?! She¡¯s lucky that Eldrin¡¯s men aren¡¯t even the least bit competent, because any regiment with the tiniest fraction of experience would have just continued on!¡±, Lyvia¡¯s pacing suddenly stopped, ¡°Grey, I want you to watch the children.¡±


    The silencing of her footsteps and the odd comment put Grey on edge.


    ¡°Lyvia, what are you going to do?¡±


    ¡°Exactly as I said, I¡¯m going to give Celeria a piece of my mind!¡±, her tone suggested no retrieve. Lyvia stormed out the house, bounding down the stairs and practically jumping out of the atelier only to hit the forest floor full force, before sprinting off towards the village.


    ¡®Well, crap.¡¯, was the only thought Grey could muster before Lyvia disappeared out of sight. He could only mentally sigh, before returning to the three little children looking at him expectantly. He resumed playing, banishing both Lyvia and Celeria to the back of his mind.


    Lyvia bounded towards the town, running at a speed few could match. Her trip to the village was accompanied by the dull sound of a feast going on, she decided to follow the noise. She quickly ended up just outside of town, standing in front of the local tavern which was filled to the brim with guests. The loyal patrons almost had no room to sit as an impromptu assembly of angered Dynn Dori¨¤n was being held.


    Lyvia entered the tavern under a violent chorus of noise, this time coming from a drunk and angry crowd instead of just angry. A welcome change.


    ¡®Celeria better be here, otherwise I¡¯m gonna skin her alive!¡¯, the vivid images of skinning animals streamed through her mind, putting a small smirk on her face. However, she would first need to find her target to administer proper punishment. The tavern didn¡¯t really lend itself to searching for someone, as a crowded room filled with those embroiled in conversation didn¡¯t really lend itself to a thorough inspection. Instead causing the usual tavern brawl, Lyvia opted to lean back with a pint of ale and observe the situation. The entertainment of an angry and drunken crowd was one few would pass up, Lyvia was no exception.


    ¡°Who does that bastard think he is?!¡±, an unrecognisable voice from a few feet away cried out in anger. The filled tavern made most unrecognisable, the sound of their voices only momentarily coming over the droning of the fierce conversations and reaching Lyvia¡¯s ears. The conversation in the little group became more and more heated.


    ¡°That damned Tyrrith clan just wants power! They¡¯re profiting from the Council¡¯s decision! Damn those pigs and damn the fools who passed that legislation!¡±, the little group directed their anger once again towards the source of their problems, the governing establishment.


    The crowd started off slowly, holding conversations about the local powerhouses, yet they quickly switched to the subject of the mobilisation. The subject was on everyone¡¯s mind, affecting everyone in the tavern alike. The conversations became more heated over the course of the night, firing up like a bonfire being fuelled to warm the cold darkness.


    They came on the subject of the council of seven with fire in their hearts and daggers in place of tongues. They started to slash their way through the first subject, caring little for the crudeness in their words as their anger dictated their tone and the subject. They indiscriminately started smearing and belittling the factions that governed them from their high seat in Eleanor.


    Enthusiastic and maddened by rage orators rose to the occasion, spewing insult after insult at the seven factions that ruled the kingdom.


    ¡°Damn those greedy pigs from the Silver Fawn! Those merchants only care about their own wares! The only thing more prosperous and secure than their own trade routes are their vaults! The money snatching hogs wouldn¡¯t hesitate to drive a family in the ground, yet they will haggle businesses out of existence for an extra penny!¡±, a man rose from his seat, shouting his lungs out as he admonished the well-known merchant guild.


    ¡°What about those damned pricks from the Boar¡¯s tusk?! They were prancing around here only last month, looking for some damned critter that was hurting none! They attacked it in its sleep and ran off when it began trashing the fields!¡±, she paused to take in a deep breath, ¡°Damned pricks only killed it when it lowered its guard! That¡¯s the third time this season! By Eleanor, those damned asshats are either some stupid noble, or an eccentric freak that might as well be one!¡±, a woman rose up, claiming her own table and her own timeslot.


    A third rose, ¡°Are you all forgetting the damned alchemist conglomerate that charges us each month to have a stall on the market?! They charge us! For Eleanor¡¯s sake, the cunts dare to act high and mighty and complain when they don¡¯t get a prime spot on the market! Besides their damned attitude, their products are absolute shit! None of the things they make could measure up to what Grey makes, let alone deserve a prime spot on the market square! How dare the drake oil sellers act like respected merchants?!¡±, his voice wasn¡¯t as loud as the others, but a certain calmness pervaded it, momentarily silencing those around him.


    The crowd was jeering, hurling insult after insult at the shamed cliques. Their emotions were riled up, the inconveniences they had experienced due to the wartime were spiking, and they were far from done.


    A fourth rose, ¡°They may be asshats, but they sure as hell aren¡¯t as exploitative as the Sovereign¡¯s Enclave!¡±, his deep and gruff wormed its way through the clamorous tavern into everyone¡¯s ears, ¡°The hell spawn that calls themselves ¡®nobility¡¯ exploit their populace daily! The filthy pricks lick their seniors¡¯ feet, while they punish their underlings at every opportunity. The sadistic bastards have turned a once proud city into a slave population and a clan of talented smiths into mindless drones! Down with the Sovereign Enclave, down with those pig fuckers!¡±, the man rose out of the crowd, revealing himself to be the blacksmith that had started it all. He seemed emotionally touched, as his red eyes were moist, and his voice was high-pitched at certain intervals.


    They crowd joined his admonishment, shouting insults at the band of nobles and letting the anger build up inside of them.


    Another rose up, ¡°The Druidic Gathering has brought this nation close to ruin time and time again! Their decision to value this damned forest over everything has led them to use their own people to shield it! Hell, I don¡¯t doubt that the fuckers were the main proponents of the mobilisation!¡±, this caught the crowd¡¯s attention, ¡°They value some damned trees over the villages and towns from whence they came. The tree loving fools would sacrifice their parents to have a wooden rod shoved up their arses by a dryad!¡±, the man¡¯s crude words weren¡¯t impressive, yet the crowd agreed regardless. They cheered him on as he continued to rave about the Druidic Gathering.


    A woman rose up from the crowd, someone who was well known by the crowd and someone they knew lost their precious companion. The crowd turned silent in moments, as the respect and pity for the woman took over their ravenous instincts for a moment.


    She wasted no time to release those very instincts once more.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you all forgetting someone?! How about that damned Thorned Rose leader, Duke Sgith¨´r!¡±, the crowd was silenced by dread, the mere mention of the name caused unease amongst the populace, ¡°I am not afraid of this man, and neither should you! The capricious sociopaths that call themselves the guardians of the nation are corrupt to the core. Their punishment for deserting is death, or to serve as cannon fodder in the next battle. They have burned villages to the ground on suspect of infection or ¡®treason¡¯. The damned idiots have been going out and murdering people, while their bosses sit high and mighty in their ivory towers in Eleanor. They see us as pawns in their little game, and they have done so for the past two and a half centuries! Damn the knights of the Thorned Rose order, damn Duke Sgith¨´r, and damn each member of the council of seven that put themselves above the nation and the law!¡±, her voice reached the crowd as they drowned the tavern in a cacophony of shouts, insults, and slurs. Celeria looked around the tavern grinning like a maniac, her words were like venom and worked like a strength potion, as the crowd was riled up into another frenzy.


    The six standing on the tables waited for several moments, hoping to see the climax of the evening, yet nothing happened. No one took the honour of being the final orator, the grand finale that would restart the protest of earlier today and finish it, the speech that would ground the last ruler of Eleanor into dust and pour its ashes unto the fire of rebellion.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Yet, no one took the honours.


    It became clear why. The last ruler of Eleanor hadn¡¯t faulted his populace, he had carried the burdens of a ruler in a way few could, and even fewer would. He had led the people to a new home with his strength alone centuries ago. He had carved a way through the forest and slain the guardian of the world tree, becoming its new champion and creating a home for his race.


    His bravery had allowed all that followed him a new haven which to call home, his sacrifice had given everyone a shelter, food, and a foundation on which to build a great nation. He had done all this, and he hadn¡¯t wronged his own race in doing it.


    Yes, the rumours surrounding his deeds in the Dinol regions were atrocious, yet they were unfounded and, most important of all, they weren¡¯t against the Dynn Dori¨¤n. More so, he had done everything in his power to help his own race and give the fledging nation an opportunity to rise to power.


    And rise, it did.


    The growth of the nation could be attributed to several factors, yet the Old One certainly was one of them. He had served as the precautionary measure for any nation to declare war, as the prospect of an army of dryads led by a hero who was rumoured to have killed a beast capable of scourging an entire kingdom was enough to deter most and give the few that could match him think twice.


    The crowd died down, returning to their drinks. Their anger had yet to be quelled, but they had no reason to direct it at the one person that put a roof over their heads, so they opted for silent contempt for the already slandered factions.


    The six orators stood on their tables with baffled expressions, as they could do nothing as the crowd slowly started to leave. Some left in a hurry, leaving the tavern with caution as they remembered all too well that what was said that night shouldn¡¯t have been said, let alone cheered on.


    Lyvia had heard all she needed to. She had already spotted Celeria, yet she knew that addressing the heartbroken woman now would only result in an even larger escapade. The clash between an angry drunk woman and an irritated buzzed woman would only result in an ugly shouting match and a worse evening for all. Lyvia left the tavern quietly, leaving Celeria to wail in her own disgrace.


    She was one of the many tavern goers that streamed out of the door, returning home with a quickened step and a cautious gaze.


    There was only one little group that remained, the one group that lamented the silent contempt of the crowd the most, the six orators that had poured their heart and soul out in front of almost the whole village. They could only drink away their regrets, as they felt let down and betrayed by the people they thought were on their side.


    ¡°What is wrong with them?¡±, the second orator took another swig of her drink, ¡°Why don¡¯t they just join us? We can just say ¡®fuck off, Eldrin¡¯, and we would be fine! We could protect ourselves, so we wouldn¡¯t need Eldrin or the Boar¡¯s Tusk, or any bastard of the Council of Seven!¡±, the second orator started gulping down her drink like a madwoman. It was only after the mug was empty that she lay down on the table and quietly started sobbing.


    ¡°Cheer up, will you?¡±, the third orator put a bottle of water in front of the sobbing woman, ¡°They just don¡¯t get it, yet. We might have gone a little overboard and scared them, but the situation can¡¯t continue like this. You know that just as well as I do. They will come to us.¡±


    Celeria had a small drink in her hand, ¡°Yes, but that will be too late, won¡¯t it? If we don¡¯t do something now, we will all be living the consequences of our indecisiveness. Eldrin isn¡¯t just going to twiddle his thumbs until the people start to become something more than disgruntled. Besides that, it¡¯s already too late for the guards, for the men and women that have served and lived in this village for decades. They have been sent off to some Eleanor forsaken massacre across the kingdom.¡±, she took a deep breath and a large swig of the foul-smelling drink in her hands. She wiped away the tears on her cheeks, taking another swig to quell the misery in her heart.


    The table was silenced, as they knew she was right.


    They continued to drown away their sorrows, continuing into the night until they were the last patrons of the tavern. The staff was starting to clean the aftermath of the rowdy night, while the owner counted the profit. The man had a gleaming smile on his face, as the jingle of coins on his desk enraptured him.


    Luckily, the night was young, and the tavern wasn¡¯t closed yet.


    A lanky figure stepped in the tavern, seemingly appearing from nowhere as the windows had not revealed a passer-by in the late hours. The man wore a strange green spotted brown cloak. The patterns reminded Celeria of the forest, of the young plants that rooted themselves in the lacklustre soil, as well as the thick foliage that permeated the deep-rooted giants which continually loomed over them.


    He moved with a certain elegance, moving past the furniture and the staff with a certain sway, only stopping in front of the table with the six buzzed and saddened orators.


    The owner headed to the back with the staff following him. The table dismissed it as an odd ritual of them, not even realising that the owner would rather burn the place down than let some drunks sit in it without supervision.


    He pulled up a chair from behind him, sitting down at the head of the table. The others looked at him with cautionary glances, the man suddenly sat down at their table like it was nobody¡¯s business, what the hell was he doing.


    Celeria cast a throwaway glance at the newcomer, catching little of his face but seeing most of his stature. He, or she for that matter, stood tall, taller than anyone in the tavern. The weird cloak served to hide his torso, leaving only their shoulders exposed for others to see.


    The man sat there for several minutes without moving. Celeria looked again, and he suddenly had a drink in his hand. It had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, yet the table didn¡¯t mind it.


    They were drunk, losing track of the staff had been happening for the last hour. They could hardly react to the staff that had repeatedly told them to leave. They had eventually given up, content to simply wait till the last patrons passed out from exhaustion and too much alcohol.


    The figure seemed to sit still for several more minutes, content to stare at the far wall for what seemed like an eternity to the buzzed group. It was only after this eternity that the man put the drink to his mouth, gulped it down in one swig, and opened his mouth.


    ¡°An interesting bunch of demagogues we have here.¡±, the mouth behind the hood turned into a wickedly long smile, ¡°Wouldn¡¯t want anyone to know what was said here tonight, right? I don¡¯t doubt that some people would find that very interesting?¡±, the empty container vanished into the cloak within a second, making it seem as if it had been never been there.


    ¡°Luckily for you, I don¡¯t do things that way. Well, my employer doesn¡¯t. He likes your favourite subjects just as much as you do.¡±, six cards appeared from his jacket and slid over the rough table towards each of them, ¡°There¡¯s a firepit outside. Memorize it, then burn it.¡±


    The figure stood up, walked towards the door, and vanished into the darkness outside.


    It took several moments for them to realise what had happened, the booze only helping with the delay. Celeria picked up her card first, noticing the oddly scribbled text on both the front and backside.


    A wife who weeps for her husband, a tailor who controls all but the needle, and a demagogue with no crowd. Those who seek to maintain their power do not smile kindly on your actions, missus Vitafius, but I do. The fire which births change is ignited by the words of the forgotten. The sorrows of the downtrodden will fuel it to new heights, and the flaming sea of anger and hatred will unleash itself upon those who sought to maintain their power through all means. From the ashes, a new order will replace the old and rotten one.


    Now, will you ignite the flame, Celeria Vitafius?


    The front had a boldly written message, which contained more information about herself than Celeria was comfortable with. The weird scribbling suggested it wasn¡¯t written by a scribe, as the handwriting was too shoddy, it was barely readable as it was.


    She turned the little card around, finding only some incomprehensible patterns in the top right corner. The scribbles made no sense, as they didn¡¯t combine into any type of language she knew, even the more exotic ones she had heard of didn¡¯t fit into the scribbles.


    She looked up, finding the mysterious man gone and her fellow drunks just as dumbfounded by the notes in their hands. The fourth orator was about to drool on their card, before the blacksmith snatched it from their hands, the man seemed to be onto something, as his head took on a darker shade from the combination of intense brain activity and alcohol.


    This continued for several moments, lasting until it seemed like the man would pass out, until he put the two corners towards each other in a fitting pattern. They created a triangle, yet the outline of the symbols suggested that it wasn¡¯t done yet. The few that understood his intention passed their cards to him, and the ones that didn¡¯t had theirs taken away.


    After some shuffling around, an image appeared.


    The incomprehensible writing turned into a masterwork, as the weird lines turned into tall trees filled with leaves, hard corners turned into gentle rocks and waterfalls, and the swaying lines that extended through it all turned into rivers, bushes, and even small animalistic caricatures.


    In the middle of it all, there was a small village with a palisade surrounding it. Some houses were strewn about the edges with a rather large complex to the north-east of it.


    The alcohol made Celeria question which village this was.


    ¡®Is it one close by? Like Grenby or something? But they don¡¯t really have some like that close to them, right?¡¯


    Her eyes suddenly widened considerably, and her jaw dropped to the floor.


    ¡®Shit.¡¯


    The little pattern turned out to be a hexagon with a detailed map of their village and the surrounding forest, with the animals denoting monster nests, the complex the Tyrrith clan home, and the houses.


    ¡®What are those houses then? Like, they aren¡¯t really landmarks or anything.¡¯


    The alcohol deluded her senses, yet after tracing the location of each of the houses, she realised something terrifying.


    ¡®That¡¯s my house! The other five...¡¯


    She looked around the table once again, noticing that the blacksmith was just as uncomfortable as she was. His house had been denoted as a prime spot in the middle of the village, the little caricature even held a little anvil and a workshop.


    Her little home was drawn in detail, as she could even see the yarn she had perched in her workshop through a window. The occasional patching up always required some materials, and she could see her own atelier in greater detail than she herself could conjure up. The unbelievable skill seemed otherworldly, as if it were creating a new dimension within the paper.


    The blacksmith took one last look at the paper, then turned towards the other five.


    ¡°It seems like we demagogues have gotten ourselves in a bit of a pickle. We can¡¯t really reject this offer, nor do I think anyone here would want to.


    So, are we gonna be a wet or dry piece of tinder?¡±


    The table quieted down, yet they solemnly nodded.


    ¡°Good. Well, let¡¯s leave introductions for another time then. I don¡¯t doubt that the odd stranger attracted far more attention than a small group of locals.¡±, he stood up, ¡°The forge is always open to the warm hearted.¡±, he paced towards the door, recovering from the odd drunken misstep with a comical sway in his legs.


    The night was almost over, yet something larger had been born in its final moments.