The small, cozy cabin was a haven of warmth and rustic charm. The walls were adorned with the heads of various creatures, trophies from hunts long past, each one telling a story of its own. A soft fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows that danced across the room. The young lady, exhausted from the journey, had fallen asleep beside Kellin, the dire wolf's massive form curled protectively around her. The scene was oddly peaceful, a stark contrast to the tension that had filled the forest only hours before.
At the rough-hewn wooden table, Sir Alaric and the old farmer sat, nursing mugs of a strong, earthy beer. The farmer took a long swig, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes twinkling with humor as he regarded his guest.
"How's that brother of mine, then?" the old man asked, his tone light, but there was a glimmer of genuine concern beneath it. "Still kicking, I hope?"
Alaric nodded, his grip tightening slightly around his mug. "He's well enough, though he misses his wife something fierce. She passed a year ago, and it's been a hard road since."
The old farmer chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that filled the room. "Ah, the poor sod. Never could figure out how to take care of himself without her. I bet he's still burning his dinners and cursing the stove, eh?"
Alaric allowed himself a small smile. "Every day, from what I hear. He's got the scars to prove it."
The old man shook his head, still chuckling. "Well, at least he's got that grumpy old hound of his to keep him company. Though I reckon the dog's better at chasing away loneliness than he is at chasing rabbits."
There was a comfortable silence for a moment, both men lost in their own thoughts. Then the old farmer's gaze shifted to the sleeping woman and the wolf. He raised an eyebrow and leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret.
"So, what's the story with her?" he asked, a teasing glint in his eye. "Didn't know a knight of your stature could be married. Or is she just along for the adventure?"
Alaric shook his head, his expression unreadable. "She's no wife of mine. She's of royal blood, from a kingdom down south. Beyond that, I know little about her."
The farmer leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Royal blood, you say? Well, I'll be damned. And here I thought you were just picking up strays along the way. Though, I've got to say, the wolf seems to like her well enough."
Alaric glanced over at the sleeping pair, his face softening slightly. "Kellin has a good sense about people. If he trusts her, that's saying something."
The old farmer nodded sagely. "Aye, animals know things we don't. But you've got your hands full with that one, I can tell. She's got a fire in her, that much is clear. Reminds me of my own daughter when she was that age—never could keep her from running headfirst into trouble."
Alaric sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Trouble seems to follow her, whether she seeks it or not. But she's not my responsibility. I've got a mission, and I can't afford distractions."
The farmer chuckled again, raising his mug in a mock toast. "Ah, but life's full of distractions, Sir Alaric. Some of them might just lead you where you need to go. But enough of my rambling—drink up! You're going to need all your strength for whatever's ahead."
The two men clinked their mugs together, the sound ringing through the cabin as the fire crackled and popped in the hearth. Outside, the wind howled through the trees, but inside, there was a rare moment of camaraderie, of shared burdens and unspoken understanding. The fire crackled softly in the hearth as the old farmer leaned forward, placing his beer cup down with a quiet thud. His eyes, though weathered, gleamed with a sharp curiosity."What do you want to know, Sir Alaric?" the farmer began, his tone serious for once. "Why on earth is the mighty Raven Knight here in a place like this?"Alaric's gaze drifted to Kellin, the dire wolf who lay content beside the slumbering young woman. His mind was heavy, the weight of his failures pressing down on him like an iron chain. He turned back to the farmer, his voice low and edged with bitterness. "Prince Fyorne is dead. I was supposed to protect him, but I failed. I brought him out of the kingdom, only for him to return and meet his end at the hands of his own brother."The farmer shook his head, his brows furrowing. "That wasn't on you, lad. The king's madness, the jealousy... it was all brewing long before you or I could've done a damn thing about it. You did what you could.""But it wasn't enough," Alaric cut in sharply. "The former king entrusted me with his son's life. He believed in me, and I failed him."The farmer sighed, leaning back in his chair. "The young prince... Fyorne, was it? Maybe he wasn't the hero folks made him out to be. You've been living with this guilt, but perhaps you're chasing shadows. The kingdom's in peace, Alaric. The new king's got a good head on his shoulders, more experienced than most. Maybe it's time to let go of this burden you've been carrying."Alaric's eyes flashed with anger. "You think I don't know that? You think I haven't tried to put it all behind me? But Fyorne... he told me something the night before he died. He spoke of a curse—a curse that would destroy the kingdom if it wasn't lifted. The gods had chosen him for this, and now that task falls to me."The farmer remained calm, though his expression grew more serious. "A curse, eh? And you think chasing after some ancient dungeon is going to make things right?""I don't think," Alaric said, his voice firm. "I know. And I need your help to find it. Show me where it is, and I'll take care of the rest."For a moment, the two men sat in silence, the only sound the gentle crackling of the fire. Then, the farmer nodded slowly. "Alright, I'll show you. But know this, Alaric, it's not as simple as giving you directions and sending you on your way. The path to that dungeon is treacherous, and I'm the only one who knows it. I'll have to come with you."Alaric's gaze shifted to the sleeping woman and his dire wolf. "Then take the girl. She's a royal of some kind, and I don't have the time or patience to keep her safe."The farmer let out a dry chuckle. "Oh no, you're not saddling me with that responsibility. If I'm coming along, she's coming too. Besides, you're better equipped to deal with her, Raven Knight. Consider it part of your penance."Alaric clenched his jaw, but he knew there was no point in arguing further. The old farmer was as stubborn as he was knowledgeable. With a resigned sigh, he nodded. "Fine. We leave at first light."The farmer grinned, the humor returning to his eyes. "That's the spirit. Now, how about another drink before we turn in? We've got a long road ahead of us."Alaric managed a faint smile, lifting his cup. "One more won't hurt."