"You're welcome! I thought I'd bring along some treats to share with friends," Olivia said with a cheerful smile, placing her hands confidently on her hips.
Inside the cozy windmill, she unfurled a colorful picnic blanket across the wooden floor. One by one, she began to lay out an impressive array of foods from her baskets.
Leon, Liam, and Brandon exchanged surprised glances, feeling both grateful and a bit overwhelmed. They had risen early that morning as planned, but they hadn't anticipated Olivia arriving with two large wicker baskets brimming with surprises. The moment she stepped through the door, she began bustling about, unpacking an assortment of home-cooked delicacies.
The delightful scent of freshly baked white bread, rich with the aroma of milk, filled the air. Golden egg pies, still warm from the oven, were placed next to slices of cured ham, thinly cut and glistening. A hearty meat stew simmered in a clay pot, releasing mouthwatering fragrances. An assortment of pastries, some dusted with sugar, others filled with fruit preserves, were laid out, many of which Leon couldn't even name.
For the three who had been living like savages for so long, the abundance of rich and delicious food before them was an overwhelming assault on their senses.
"This must have been a lot of trouble for you. These look freshly made," Liam said, swallowing hard, his voice tinged with embarrassment.
"If you truly think of me as a friend, then don't stand on ceremony," Olivia replied, smoothing out the folds of her skirt before gracefully sitting down. She beckoned to them with a warm smile. "Come on, sit down! Let's enjoy this feast together."
"Thank you for your generosity. I'd rather accept than decline," Leon said appreciatively, taking a seat as his stomach gave an audible grumble.
Brandon gently tugged at Liam, who was still standing awkwardly, and guided him to sit down cross-legged. "We appreciate your hospitality," he added sincerely.
"Here, you have to try this! It's Aunt Milia's special recipe. She makes the best pastries in the whole village," Olivia said excitedly, wrapping her favorite dessert in a napkin and handing it to each of them before taking a bite herself.
No longer holding back, Leon eagerly bit into the pastry. It looked and smelled absolutely delightful. It was no surprise that Olivia's cheeks were adorably puffed out as she savored the treat, her face lighting up with happiness the moment she tasted it.
The pastry had a delicate sweetness, complemented by a subtle fruity aroma. Even with all the gourmet experiences from his past life, Leon couldn't find a single flaw in this local delicacy.
They spent the meal not only indulging in the delicious food but also enjoying lively conversation. Noting Olivia's curiosity about the outside world, Leon felt compelled to share. Drawing from his own memories, he began to tell her fascinating stories and customs from the Kingdom of Serian, a world far beyond her mountain village.
He spoke of the Church of Saint Sol, devoted to the Holy Sun; he recounted the salvation myths of the Prophet Ilarriel; he described the grandeur of the ancient temple dedicated to the Holy Sun, and the countless pilgrims who journeyed from all over the Central Continent. Story after story flowed from him, each more enchanting than the last, leaving Olivia utterly captivated, her eyes sparkling with wonder.
Without realizing it, Olivia had inched closer to Leon, drawn in by his tales. Noticing this, Leon paused, his storytelling slowing down. He glanced sideways at the blonde girl beside him, who was hanging on his every word.
Whether it was the lingering scent of the desserts or perhaps Olivia's own pleasant fragrance, Leon felt his cheeks grow warm, a flush creeping up his face. Truth be told, in neither his past life nor in his current one had Leon ever been the focus of such expectant and enthusiastic attention from a girl.
In his previous life, Leon had immersed himself in a myriad of hobbies. He was fascinated by weapons and armor, spending countless hours studying their designs and histories. Horse riding and archery were his passions; weekends often found him galloping across open fields or perfecting his aim at distant targets. Card games and chess challenged his strategic mind, while animations and novels fed his ever-curious imagination. His free time, after long days of hard work, was entirely consumed by these diverse and time-consuming interests. As a result, his experience with women was woefully limited, uncharacteristic for a man in his thirties.
So when Leon found himself standing close to Olivia, this beautiful and captivating girl, he couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in his heart. Her golden hair caught the sunlight just so, and her eyes sparkled with an innocent curiosity that was utterly disarming. It wasn't that he harbored any improper thoughts; it was just the realization that he would be leaving tomorrow, and might never again see this kind-hearted mountain girl, filled him with a quiet sense of regret. After all, who wouldn't cherish the opportunity to spend time with someone so innocent and beautiful?
Of course, perhaps the local village bullies, who had tasted her wrath since they were children, might have a different opinion. Rumor had it that Olivia could subdue any mischief-maker with a single glare. But Leon believed that as long as one treated her with respect, this considerate girl would never reveal that fierce, lion-like side of her personality.
After they finished their hearty meal and took a moment to rest, they returned to the shade beneath the windmill tower. Picking up long wooden sticks, they resumed their martial arts training under the guidance of the powerful and talented Olivia.
"Alright, boys, today I'm going to show you something special," Olivia announced, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
"Oh? What's that?" Liam asked, twirling his stick with anticipation.
"I call it the 'Cat Spin,'" she said with a playful grin.
"Cat Spin?" Brandon echoed, raising an eyebrow. "What's that all about?"
"Strictly speaking," she explained, "it's not limited to swordplay, it can be applied to combat with any weapon."
She went on to describe how she had been inspired by watching a cat that, startled by a sudden noise, had spun around with incredible speed. "I thought, if only I could mimic that agility in battle," she said, demonstrating a swift, fluid turn that seemed almost a blur.
"The technique is designed to allow quick maneuvering and rapid movement during intense close combat," Olivia continued enthusiastically. "It's all about using your opponent's momentum against them while positioning yourself advantageously."
Leon thought it sounded complicated enough in theory, but attempting to execute it was another challenge entirely. "Well, it looks impressive," he admitted, trying to imitate her movements and nearly losing his balance. "But it's actually maddeningly difficult to perform."
"Don't worry, Leon," Olivia laughed, steadying him with a gentle hand. "It takes practice. Even I stumbled a lot when I first tried it."
Brandon chuckled, wiping sweat from his brow. "I feel like a clumsy ox trying to dance," he said. "But I can see how effective it could be."
"Exactly!" Olivia beamed. "Once you get the hang of it, it can really give you an edge."
Leon doubted whether he and his companions could even grasp the basic principles and applications of this technique in the span of a single afternoon, but they were determined to try. The hours flew by as they practiced, laughed at their missteps, and celebrated small victories.
Time slipped away quietly as they delved into explanations and practice. Happy moments, as always, seemed to fly by too quickly. Before they knew it, the sun was dipping low in the sky, casting long shadows across the field.
"It's getting late," Olivia remarked softly, glancing at the horizon painted in hues of orange and pink.
A hint of loneliness clouded her face as she realized that her newfound friends would be departing tomorrow, and Selva would return to its uneventful, repetitive life of farming. The thought of their laughter fading from the windmill saddened her.
"We'll be leaving tomorrow," Leon said, breaking the comfortable silence. "Why don't I take the blankets and quilts back to your place for you?"
"Oh no, that's not necessary," Olivia replied, waving her hand dismissively. "You can still use them tonight. Just roll them up and leave them in the mill before you go. I'll come by and pick them up."
She then gazed at them with a touch of reluctance in her eyes. "If you ever pass through Selva again, please come and see me," she implored. "I promise, next time I'll convince my father to have you as guests in our home."
"Absolutely," Leon agreed with a warm smile. "Once I've taken care of my business, I'll make sure to come back and visit you."
"Count me in," Liam added, patting his chest confidently. "When I find my sister, I'll bring her here to meet you. She'd love to learn that Cat Spin of yours!"
Brandon nodded thoughtfully. "I hope someday I can invite you to visit our homeland," he said earnestly. "We'll make sure you receive the warmest welcome. The forests there are unlike anything you've seen."
Olivia's eyes sparkled at the thought. "I'd love that," she said softly. "I've always wanted to see more of the world."
"Ha ha, it's a promise then," Olivia said, her face lighting up with relief and joy. "Take care on your journey, all of you."
They shared a moment of comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The wind rustled softly through the fields, carrying with it the scent of wildflowers. The distant sound of villagers winding down for the evening added a serene backdrop to their farewell.
"Well, we should get going," Leon finally said, hefting his stick over his shoulder. "Thank you for everything, Olivia. You've been a wonderful friend."
"Yes," Olivia agreed, though her eyes betrayed a hint of sadness. "Until we meet again."
"Until we meet again," they echoed, each giving a small bow or wave as they turned to leave.
As they walked away from the windmill, Leon couldn't help but glance back one last time. Olivia stood there, a solitary figure against the backdrop of the setting sun, her golden hair glowing like a halo. He felt a pang of something, was it longing? Regret? He wasn't sure.
"She's quite something, isn't she?" Liam remarked, noticing Leon's backward glance.
"She is," Leon agreed softly. "I feel like we've made a true friend here."
Brandon smiled. "We'll see her again," he said confidently. "Our paths are bound to cross."
"Yeah," Leon nodded, turning his gaze forward. "I hope so."
They continued on, the promise of new adventures ahead, but each carried with them the memory of a remarkable girl who had touched their lives in a quiet mountain village. The future was uncertain, but the bonds they'd formed gave them strength.
As the last light of day faded, Leon felt a renewed determination. Whatever challenges lay ahead, he knew he wasn't alone. And perhaps, someday, their journeys would bring them back to this very spot, where friendships were forged under the shade of a windmill and the guidance of a girl named Olivia.
Olivia hugged the now-empty picnic basket close to her chest as she led the group back toward the village. The golden hues of the setting sun bathed her in a warm glow, making her look almost ethereal. She turned to face her friends, her eyes reflecting a mix of joy and melancholy.
"May the gods bless you all," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I wish you a safe journey and hope our paths cross again someday."
Leon stepped forward, his eyes meeting hers with genuine gratitude. "Thank you, Olivia. Your kindness and hospitality have meant the world to us."
Liam grinned, scratching the back of his head. "We won't forget you or this place. You've given us memories we'll carry forever."
Brandon nodded solemnly. "May fortune favor you as well. Perhaps one day, we'll return the favor and welcome you to our homeland."
Olivia's cheeks flushed ever so slightly. "I'd like that very much," she replied, offering a gentle smile. She gave a graceful bow, a final gesture of farewell. "Take care, all of you."
The trio waved as they began to walk away, each step taking them further from the village and the newfound friend they were reluctant to leave behind. Olivia watched until they disappeared over the hill, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Turning back toward Selva, she whispered to herself, "May the winds guide you safely."
---
Midnight enveloped the village of Selva in a serene hush. The only sounds piercing the quiet were the distant barking of dogs and the melodic chirping of crickets, creating a symphony unique to the countryside night. The moon hung high, its silvery light casting elongated shadows and illuminating the winding paths just enough to navigate.
A solitary figure emerged from the depths of the village shadows, moving with calculated stealth. Boris clutched a small candlestick, its weak flame flickering against the gentle breeze. His eyes darted nervously as he made his way toward the northern hillside, every footstep deliberately light to avoid detection.
Reaching the old, abandoned windmill, Boris paused at the creaking wooden door. He pressed his ear against it, straining to catch any hint of movement inside. Silence greeted him; no whispers, no rustling, not even the heavy breathing of sleepers. "They must be upstairs," he thought, a sly grin curling his lips.
With a swift glance over his shoulder to ensure he was alone, Boris retrieved a worn key from his pocket; the spare key to the windmill he'd obtained through less-than-honorable means. Inserting it carefully into the lock, he turned it ever so slowly, wincing at the faint click as it disengaged. He eased the door open, the hinges protesting softly.
Stepping inside, the musty scent of aged wood and dust filled his nostrils. The first floor lay empty, shadows dancing along the walls as his candle cast a dim glow. He moved cautiously, the floorboards creaking underfoot despite his best efforts.
Before proceeding further, Boris pulled out a thick cloth he'd soaked in water earlier. Wrapping it securely over his nose and mouth, he ensured it covered his face completely. He knew the risks involved in his plan; the substance he carried was potent, and he couldn't afford any mistakes.
Ascending the narrow staircase, he kept his footsteps light, pausing on the second floor. He scanned the area, finding it just as deserted as the first. "They must be on the top floor," he muttered under his breath, a mix of excitement and apprehension swirling within him.
Reaching the third floor, he crouched low, peering over the edge of the stairwell. In the soft glow of moonlight filtering through a cracked window, he could make out the forms of Leon, Liam, and Brandon. They lay peacefully on makeshift beds, their slow, rhythmic breathing indicating they were deep in slumber.
A flicker of satisfaction flashed in Boris's eyes. "Perfect," he whispered. He knew better than to confront them directly; they were strong and could easily overpower him. Instead, he planned to incapacitate them without a fight.
Carefully, he retrieved a small paper bag from within his jacket. Unfolding it revealed a fine, glittering powder; the special concoction he'd purchased from a mysterious peddler who claimed it could render a person unconscious in minutes. He poured the powder into a tiny brass incense burner adorned with strange symbols, then lit it with the flame from his candlestick.
A thin trail of smoke spiraled upward, carrying a faint, sweet scent. Boris held his breath instinctively, adjusting the damp cloth over his face. He knew the potency of this substance; during his initial test, even the wet cloth hadn't entirely protected him from its effects. He wasn't about to take any chances tonight.
Gently, he placed the incense burner on the step just below the third floor, ensuring the smoke would waft upward toward the sleeping trio. Satisfied with its position, he retreated silently back down the stairs, each step measured and deliberate.
On the ground floor, Boris leaned against the wall, pressing the cloth tightly against his face. A sinister smile played on his lips as he envisioned his plan unfolding. "Soon, they'll be out cold," he thought triumphantly. "And then Olivia will see that they aren't the heroes she believes them to be."
He waited in the shadows, ears attuned to any sign from above. The minutes dragged on, each one intensifying his anticipation. The wind outside whispered through the cracks in the old windmill, and the distant hoot of an owl echoed in the night.
"Any moment now," he reassured himself, fingers tapping impatiently against his leg. He imagined creeping back upstairs to find them immobilized, at his mercy. The thought filled him with a twisted sense of satisfaction.
But then, a sudden creak from above made his heart skip a beat. His eyes widened, and he strained to listen. Was that a footstep? A murmur? Doubt began to creep in. "Did one of them wake up?" he wondered, a bead of sweat forming on his brow.
He clenched his fists, trying to steady his nerves. "Stay calm," he whispered. "The drug is strong. They won't resist it."
Silence settled once more, and Boris exhaled slowly, relief washing over him. He allowed a smug grin to return. "Olivia will have to turn to me after this," he mused. "She'll see that I'm the one she can rely on."
Unbeknownst to him, shadows shifted subtly in the corners of the windmill. The old structure seemed to hold its breath, as if anticipating what was to come. Boris remained oblivious, consumed by his own schemes.
He began to plan his next steps. "I'll bind them and take them to the authorities," he thought. "Escaped slaves fetch a good reward. And with that, I can prove to everyone that I'm not the fool they take me for."
Lost in his plotting, Boris failed to notice the faint rustling from above. Had he listened more carefully, he might have heard the soft whisper of feet against wood, the gentle intake of breath that wasn't his own.
Suddenly, a hand clasped firmly on his shoulder. Boris froze, terror coursing through him. Before he could react, a voice hissed in his ear, "Looking for someone?"
His candle flickered wildly as he spun around, coming face to face with Leon's piercing gaze. Behind him stood Liam and Brandon, their expressions a mix of confusion and anger.
"What... how did you...?" Boris stammered, backing away, his eyes darting between them.
"You think we wouldn't notice the smell of that strange smoke?" Liam growled, folding his arms across his chest. "We've been on the run long enough to recognize when someone is trying to pull a fast one."
Brandon held up the incense burner, now extinguished. "An interesting choice of weapon," he remarked coldly. "But not very effective against those who are prepared."
Boris's mind raced. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Panic gripped him as he searched for an escape route. "I... I was just..."
"Save it," Leon interrupted sharply. "We heard you sneaking around. Did you really think we'd sleep unguarded in unfamiliar territory?"
Boris's facade crumbled. "I just wanted to protect Olivia!" he blurted out. "You outsiders are dangerous. I was only trying to keep her safe!"
"By poisoning us?" Brandon's eyes narrowed. "Some protector you are."
"Olivia is our friend," Leon said firmly. "We mean her no harm. Your actions, however, suggest otherwise."
Desperation flashed across Boris's face. "No! You don't understand! She's... she's supposed to be with me! Not wasting her time with strangers like you!"
Liam stepped forward, his towering presence causing Boris to shrink back. "You've made a grave mistake," he said sternly. "And it's time you faced the consequences."
Boris's back hit the wall, nowhere left to run. "Please," he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper. "Don't hurt me."
Leon sighed, the initial anger in his eyes softening slightly. "We're not going to harm you," he said. "But you need to understand that jealousy and fear don't justify your actions."
Brandon nodded. "Perhaps it's best if you reflect on this. We can all walk away tonight, but if you ever try something like this again..."
"You'll have more than just us to answer to," Liam finished, his tone leaving no room for misinterpretation.
Boris swallowed hard, nodding fervently. "I... I understand."
"Good," Leon said, stepping aside to allow him a path to the door. "Now go. And think carefully about the kind of person you want to be."
Without a second glance, Boris darted out of the windmill, disappearing into the darkness. The trio watched until they were certain he was gone.
"Well, that was unexpected," Liam remarked, breaking the tension.
Brandon sighed. "Some people let their insecurities drive them to foolish deeds."
Leon shook his head. "I just hope he learns from this. For Olivia's sake."
They shared a moment of silence, each contemplating the night's events.
"Perhaps we should take turns keeping watch tonight," Brandon suggested.
"Agreed," Leon replied. "Better to be safe."
As they settled back in, the windmill returned to its quiet state. The moonlight streamed through the cracks, casting gentle patterns on the floor. Though their journey was fraught with uncertainty, they knew they could rely on one another to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
Meanwhile, Boris stumbled back toward the village, his mind a whirlwind of shame and confusion. The path he chose tonight had led him nowhere, and the weight of his actions pressed heavily upon him. Only time would tell if he would find a way to make amends.