"Our town is called Riverbend," the woman said, her voice anxious. "I am the mayor."
Arran spent some moments in thought. While the village — it was far too small to be called a town — shared a name with his old hometown, the two places were thousands of miles apart, and other than being next to a river, they seemed to have little in common.
Still, the name reminded him of the life he had left behind. Even if he did not regret his decision to become a mage, he wondered what things would have been like had he stayed in the real Riverbend. Calmer, probably, and certainly less bloody.
Arran shook himself from his thoughts. He had more important matters to handle.
"What about them," he said, gesturing at the soldiers. "What are they doing here?"
Before the woman could respond, one of the soldiers stepped forward, a stocky, middle-aged man with dark skin and several old scars on his face.
