The Strongest Old Man

The wind's song harmonized with the rustling leaves as Rayleigh and Linley sat atop the hill, the medieval city in the distance though bustling with activity, unaware of their gaze yet only the hill, a silent witness to the grandfather and grandsons conversation.

"Grandfather," Linley began, his youthful voice filled with reverence, "what makes a strong man?" Linley had been having problems at school with bullies, only his grandfather, was the strongest man he knew.

Rayleigh's eyes crinkled at the corners, a warmth emanating from his soft face gazing in the distance. He rested a weathered hand on Linley's shoulder, his gaze sweeping across the sprawling city. "There's an old saying, Linley," he began, his voice a low aged rumble, "it's better to be a warrior in a garden than a gardener in a war."

Linley's brow furrowed in curiosity. "What does that mean, Grandfather?"

Rayleigh chuckled softly. "Imagine two men, Linley," he began, weaving a tale with his words. "One is a warrior, hardened by countless battles, skilled in the arts of combat. The other is a gardener, his hands calloused from tending to delicate blooms, his knowledge rooted in the cycles of life and growth."

"In times of peace," Rayleigh continued, "the gardener thrives. His crops flourish, his flowers bloom, and his hard work brings beauty to the world. The warrior, however, may feel restless, his skills unused, his purpose seemingly dormant."Linley nodded, absorbing the contrast between the two figures.

"But what happens when war comes?" Rayleigh's voice hardened slightly. "The gardener, unaccustomed to violence and unprepared for conflict, may find himself overwhelmed, his peaceful world shattered. The warrior, however, is ready. His skills, honed in the garden, become his shield and sword, protecting not only himself but also those he cares for."

A contemplative silence settled between them as Linley processed his grandfather's words."So, it's better to be prepared for war, even in times of peace?" Linley asked tentatively.

Rayleigh nodded, his eyes filled with a wisdom born of experience. "Indeed, Linley. A warrior in a garden is a man of balance. He appreciates the beauty of life, nurtures growth, and cultivates peace. But he also remains vigilant, his skills sharp, his spirit ready for whatever challenges may arise."

"A gardener in a war, however," Rayleigh's voice grew somber, "is a man caught off guard. He may possess knowledge and compassion, but without the strength to defend them, he is vulnerable."Linley looked out at the city, a newfound understanding dawning in his eyes. "So, a strong man is not just a warrior or a gardener, but a blend of both?"Rayleigh smiled, his eyes twinkling with approval.

"Precisely, Linley. True strength lies in the ability to adapt, to cultivate peace while remaining prepared for conflict. It is the warrior who tends his garden with a watchful eye, ready to defend it at a moment's notice."As the sun slowly dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and red. Linley turned to his grandfather, his young face illuminated by the orange hues of the sun."Thank you, Grandfather," he said, his voice filled with newfound determination.

"I understand now. A strong man is a warrior in a garden, ready to face any storm that comes his way." Rayleigh's heart swelled with pride. He knew that Linley had grasped the essence of his lesson, a lesson that would serve him well in the years to come. Yet he had no way of knowing that this seemingly faint memory would be so important to Linley, because at this moment he was a warrior in a garden.

Huff..Huff..Huff

Linley struggled to catch his breath as he lay on the ground, his heart beating but in pain, his house destroyed, his family slaughtered. Only he remained.

"You've put up a good fight man, but everyone here can see that this is it for you, nothing but the struggles of a dying dog. Albeit a skilled one."

The men surrounding Linley laughed at this remark. He knew he couldn't win. The man before him was a superhuman, and he was normal, he had only been able to put up a good fight and kill some men thanks to the years of training received going all the way back to his grandfather, but even that wasn't enough.

Linley heard some footsteps, his opponent now stood before him.

"Your struggles, were in vain though." Said the man as the brought his sword down on Linley's heart killing him. His last thought was of his grandfather.

Meanwhile.

The sun beat down on Rayleigh's back as he knelt in the rich soil of his garden. He meticulously tended to his rows of herbs, a peaceful rhythm to his movements. A lifetime of battles had given way to the quiet solace of nature. The scent of lavender and rosemary mingled in the air, a fragrant balm for a soul scarred by war.

Suddenly, the rhythmic clip-clop of hooves shattered the peacefulness. Rayleigh rose slowly, wiping his brow with a weathered hand. Two guards of the town, though their armour gleaming in the sunlight still shown of incredible age from the tens of owners that once used them, dismounted before the town center. Their expressions were grim.

For such a small town, the sounds of horses could be heard from anywhere in the town. With a heavy heart, this drew Ray's attention, he left his tools lying forgotten in the dirt and set off towards the town center. A sense of dread gnawed at him as he walked. News travelled slowly in these parts, but word of the kingdom's destruction had undoubtedly reached this quiet corner of the world.

The guards gathered by the town center and began to speak to some of the townsfolk who had drawn closer, their faces etched with concern and grim. As Rayleigh drew closer, his ears attuned to their hushed conversation.

"... overnight, they say," one guard was muttering, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Not a soul spared, not even the children."

"The kingdom was reduced to ash," another chimed in, his voice shaking. "A land of death, they call it now."

Rayleigh's blood ran cold. He knew Linley's kingdom well, a vibrant land filled with laughter and life though without its problems, a good kingdom with decent military. The thought of it now reduced to a barren wasteland, littered with the corpses of people, sent a shiver down his spine.He stepped forward, his voice a low rumble that cut through the guards' hushed whispers.

"Tell me what you know," he demanded, his eyes burning with a cold fury.The guards startled, turning to face him. "Old Ray ," the first guard stammered, "we only know what the travelers say. The Fourways kingdom... it was attacked without warning. They say it was a massacre, a slaughter unlike any seen in recent history. It's said that an army of superhumans descended there, There is large hole within the center of the kingdom, who knows what kind of power could do that."

Rayleigh clenched his fists, the knuckles turning white. A wave of grief washed over him, threatening to drown him in its depths. He had hope that people might've escaped, perhaps Linely among them. But unlike the townsmen he new that a superhuman army was led by the strongest among them capable of reducing large swaths of land to nothing. But grief quickly gave way to anger.

The memory of Linley's word's echoed in his mind: "A strong man is a warrior in a garden, ready to face any storm that comes his way."

He had to find out more. Doubt and hope clashing in his heart.

"Thank you," Rayleigh said, his voice a low growl. "I need to know more."

He grabbed and got on one of the nearby guards horses.

"Hey, Old Ray what's wrong, what are you doing!" yet the guards voice fell on deaf ears.

He mounted with the agility of a man half his age, the years of training and battle ingrained in his muscles and rode into the distance, galloping past the towns gates.

He rode to a nearby city, the ride to the city was a blur of motion and emotion. The wind whipping through his hair, each gust carrying whispers of destruction and despair. Rayleigh's mind raced, replaying the guards' words, clinging to the faintest sliver of hope that Linley might have somehow survived.

As the city's towering walls loomed into view, a knot of anxiety tightened in his chest. This was a place of trade and knowledge, a hub of information where the truth of Linley's fate might be found.

He dismounted in front of a bustling marketplace, the chaos a stark contrast to the serenity of his garden. Pushing his way through the throng of merchants and shoppers, he sought out a familiar face – a spice merchant named Elara, a well-known merchant around these parts who frequented different kingdoms thanks to her spice business.

He found her stall overflowing with exotic aromas, her keen eyes scanning the crowd for potential customers. When she spotted Rayleigh, her face lit up with a warm smile.

"Ray!" she exclaimed, embracing him. "It's been too long, old friend. What brings you to the city?"

Rayleigh's smile was strained as he returned her embrace. "Elara, I need your help. Have you heard any news from the Fourways Kingdom?"

Her smile faded, replaced by a look of deep sorrow. "I have," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the chaos of the market. "Terrible news, I'm afraid."

Rayleigh's heart sank, but he pressed on. "Tell me everything you know," he said, his voice desperate.

Elara led him to a secluded corner of her stall, where they could talk without a lot of the noise "It happened overnight," she began, her voice trembling. "A force of... of superhumans and beasts, they say, descended upon the kingdom. No one was spared. The land is... it's a wasteland now, I've heard that a large part of the kingdom was destroyed by a single superhuman."

Her words confirmed the guards' grim report, extinguishing the last embers of hope that had flickered within him. But Elara's next words sent a new chill down his spine.

"They say the leader of these monsters... he has the power to level mountains, to scorch the earth with a single touch. Some even whisper that he is not of this world."

Rayleigh's eyes narrowed. A superhuman army led by a being of unimaginable power.

"Elara," he said, his voice steely with determination, "I need to know more. Where can I find someone who witnessed this firsthand?"

Elara hesitated, her eyes filled with concern. "Rayleigh, is something wrong."

"My grandson was in the Fourways kingdom."

"Little Linley?"

"Yes.."

Elara was filled with shock and began to feel sad for Rayleigh. "The news are only still coming in, more concrete information should make the rounds within a week or two."

"Too long Elara." Ray instantly made his decision.

"I'll have to go there and see for myself."

This was the only way to find out concrete information.