Captain Merek and his soldiers settled into the lodgings provided by Chief Elric. The night was cold, and the sparse warmth from the hearths did little to ward off the chill that seeped through the old wooden walls. Despite the meager accommodations, the soldiers made themselves comfortable, eating their rations and talking with each other.
Captain Merek, however, was far from at ease. He sat at a rough-hewn table in the largest of the lodgings, his mind churning with suspicion. His vice-captain, a sharp-eyed and loyal soldier named Serah, joined him, carrying a cup of steaming tea.
"Thank you, Serah," Merek said, taking the cup and sipping thoughtfully. The warmth of the tea did little to dispel the cold knot in his stomach. "There's something off about this village," he murmured, almost to himself.
Serah raised an eyebrow. "You think the chief is hiding something?"
Merek nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing. "Elric is too composed. Too ready to comply. And did you see the way he signaled the villagers? He's hiding something, and I intend to find out what it is."
Serah leaned in closer, her expression serious. "Do you think the fugitive is here, Captain?"
"Possibly," Merek replied, setting the cup down. "Someone in this village contacted us about the fugitives. We wouldn't be here otherwise. It's too convenient that we find nothing after such a tip."
Serah's eyes widened slightly. "A contact within the village? Do you know who?"
Merek's smile turned grim. "Yes, I do. He wanted the reward money for the fugitives. I met with him personally. He's in the village right now. He assured me that Welkin and Harrison are here, but he doesn't know exactly where they're hiding."
Serah's eyes darkened with understanding. "A villager willing to betray their own for gold. Despicable."
"Indeed," Merek agreed, a note of contempt in his voice. "But useful. He assured me that the fugitives are here. Elric's demeanor only confirms my suspicions."
Serah nodded. "What are your orders, Captain?"
"Keep an eye on Elric. I want someone watching him at all times. If he's hiding the fugitives, he'll lead us to them eventually," Merek instructed, his eyes cold and calculating.
Serah understanding the situation. "I'll assign one of our best to shadow him, Captain. We'll know if he tries anything."
Merek's eyes gleamed with a predatory satisfaction. "Good. And Serah, make sure the men stay vigilant. I don't want any mistakes. If Welkin and Harrison are here, they won't escape us again."
As Serah moved to carry out his orders, Merek leaned back in his chair, the flickering fire casting shadows across his face. The village of Eisklippe was silent outside, the snow-covered landscape tranquil and undisturbed. But inside the lodgings, the tension was palpable. Captain Merek was determined to uncover the truth, and he wouldn't rest until he had Welkin and Harrison in custody.
His thoughts wandered to the orders given to him by the new king. Merek had served the kingdom for many years, through the reign of the old king and now this new, more ruthless monarch. He didn't like the new king; the man was driven by paranoia and a desire to crush any dissent, real or imagined. But Merek served the throne, not the man who sat on it. His loyalty was to the stability of the realm, not to the whims of its ruler.
Still, the new king's methods grated on him. The pursuit of Welkin and Harrison was just another example of the king's desire to eliminate any perceived threats to his power. Merek didn't relish the task, but he would see it through. Duty demanded it.
Deep down, Merek knew that the boy hadn't done anything wrong. Welkin was being framed. The real culprits were the duke's brother and his allies, operating with the king's support.
What a pitiful kid he thought. But there weren't any proofs. Merek had his suspicions, pieced together from whispers and fragments of conversations, but suspicions were not enough to challenge a king. He knew he just dog the Kingdom who have to bite when ordered to.
I have already killed many innocents under the orders of those in power one more wouldn't make a difference. With this thought he steeled himself.
As the night deepened, Serah quietly gave instructions to one of the soldiers, a stealthy and observant young man named Thane. Thane nodded, understanding his task, and slipped into the shadows to begin his watch over Chief Elric.
Meanwhile, Elric, unaware of the scrutiny he was under, did his best to maintain his composure. He mingled with the villagers, reassuring them and ensuring that Welkin and Harrison remained well-hidden. But a sense of foreboding gnawed at him. The presence of the King's patrol was a dangerous storm on the horizon, and he knew their small village might not weather it unscathed.
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Welkin huddled in the hidden basement of their small house, his heart pounding in his chest. The air was cool and damp, and the faint smell of earth filled his nostrils. He strained to hear any sounds from outside, but the thick wooden beams and stone walls muted everything, leaving him in an unsettling silence.
Panic gnawed at the edges of his mind. He didn't know what was happening outside. He only had Elric's assurance that the village would protect them. Elric was a capable man, someone they could trust, but how long could they stay hidden? How long before the King's soldiers found them?
Welkin's thoughts drifted back to the moments before he lost consciousness. The fight between the unknown individuals with their mysterious abilities had left him bewildered and terrified. And then he had found himself in a strange vision, reliving moments from his past with his father. The vivid memories clung to his mind, reminding him of the happier times before everything had gone wrong.
He remembered the day his life had changed forever. The day his father was murdered, and he was framed for the crime. He could still see the faces of the accusers, could still hear their voices shouting for his arrest. The Duke's brother Vorian Silverhelm now the new Duke Silverhelm, with a triumphant sneer on his face, he declared Welkin the perpetrator without a second thought. There had been no time to plead his innocence, no chance to gather evidence. He had to run for his life, and Harrison, their loyal butler, had been the only one to stand by him.
Harrison had whisked him away to the northern borders of the Kingdom of Arson, far from the capital and the Silverhelm duchy. They had hidden in the secluded village of Eisklippe for three long years, always wary, always looking over their shoulders. The village had been their sanctuary, and Elric had been their protector.
Welkin shook his head, trying to clear the memories. He knew he had to stay focused on the present. Elric had sent someone to warn them to hide before he went to meet with the soldiers. But since then, they hadn't heard anything. The silence was unnerving. How long could they stay down here, waiting for news? What if something had gone wrong?
He looked at Harrison, who was sitting quietly across from him. The older man's face was calm, but Welkin could see the tension in his eyes. Harrison had always been a steady presence in his life, and his calm demeanor was reassuring, but Welkin could tell that even he was worried.
"I know Elric is capable," Welkin whispered, more to himself than to Harrison. "But what if…"
Harrison reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. "We have to trust him, young master. He knows what he's doing. He won't let them find us."
Welkin nodded, trying to draw strength from Harrison's words. He had to believe that Elric would handle the situation. But the uncertainty was eating away at him. How long would they have to stay hidden? And what would happen if the soldiers decided to search every house in the village?
"Harrison," Welkin said softly, breaking the heavy silence. "Do you think… do you think we'll ever be able to clear my name?"
Harrison looked at him, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and determination. "I believe so, young master. The truth has a way of coming to light. We just have to survive long enough for that to happen."
Welkin sighed, leaning back against the cold stone wall. But how long will that take? How many more years will we have to live like this?
"Sometimes, I wonder if running was the right choice," Welkin admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe if I had stayed and fought, things would be different."
Harrison shook his head firmly. "If you had stayed, they would have killed you. The Duke's brother and his backer the new king—they wouldn't have given you a chance. You had to survive, Welkin. Running was the only choice."
He's right. They would have killed me. But living in hiding, always afraid… this isn't living either. "I know you're right," Welkin said, his voice heavy with resignation. "But it's hard, Harrison. It's hard to keep hoping."
Harrison's grip on his shoulder tightened, offering silent support. "Hope is what keeps us going, young master. Hope, and the promise of justice."
Welkin nodded, trying to hold onto that hope. Justice. It seems like such a distant dream. But it's all we have.
"Do you think Elric is safe?" Welkin asked after a moment, his anxiety creeping back in.
"I trust him," Harrison replied. "Elric is resourceful and loyal. He promised to protect us, and I believe he will."
Welkin took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. We've survived this long. We can survive a little longer.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly in the dark basement. Welkin's thoughts kept circling back to the vision he had while unconscious. The incoherent voices, the glow of stars in the empty space, and then Harrison's voice pulling him back to reality. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it had only been a few days.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. They had come this far. They had survived this long. He had to trust in Elric and the villagers. They had to stay hidden, just a little longer.
The silence of the basement pressed down on him, but Welkin held on to a sliver of hope. Elric would come through for them. He had to.
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