As the first rays of sunlight broke over the horizon, Arin and Master Kael prepared to leave the safety of the forest behind. The village of Briarwood lay just a few miles to the south, and though it had only been a few days since Arin had left, the thought of returning filled him with a mix of emotions—nostalgia, sadness, and a quiet resolve.
He wasn't the same person who had walked into the woods. The boy who had stumbled upon the prophecy, unsure and afraid, was beginning to grow into someone new. He had spent hours training with Kael, learning the basics of swordsmanship, and though there was still much to learn, Arin felt the changes within himself.
But as much as he had changed, there was one thing he hadn't yet faced—the villagers. Arin hadn't said a proper goodbye to his friends, to the people who had known him his whole life. The shadow of the prophecy had loomed too large over him when he had first set out. Now, though, it was time to return, if only for a brief farewell.
"Do you think they'll understand?" Arin asked as he packed the last of his belongings. The sword, still wrapped in cloth, lay at his side, ever-present and pulsing with the faint energy he was beginning to recognize as its connection to him.
Kael stood nearby, his eyes scanning the trees as though watching for danger. "Some will. Others will not. But understanding is not something you can wait for, Arin. Your journey is your own, regardless of what others believe."
Arin nodded, though he wasn't sure he felt as confident as Kael. Would his friends think he was abandoning them? Would they even believe him when he told them about the prophecy, the sword, and the coming darkness?
"We'll stop briefly in Briarwood," Kael continued, sensing Arin's hesitation. "You need closure before we move on. But once we leave, there will be no turning back. The road ahead is long, and the dangers are real."
"I understand," Arin said quietly. He did understand. The world beyond Briarwood was much bigger and much more dangerous than he had ever imagined, and yet, a part of him longed to see it—to face what was coming and prove to himself that he could rise to the challenge.
As they set off toward the village, Arin's heart beat faster with each step. The familiar sights and sounds of Briarwood came into view, and before long, the houses he had grown up around stood before him, their rooftops glowing in the early morning light. Smoke curled from chimneys, and the smell of bread baking in ovens filled the air.
It felt strange to be back, as if he had been gone for far longer than just a few days. The peaceful quiet of the village contrasted sharply with the tension that had built up inside him since discovering the sword. Arin glanced at Kael, who stood tall and silent beside him. Though Kael had lived through many battles and traveled to places Arin couldn't yet fathom, he didn't seem out of place in the quiet village.
Arin walked past the familiar market stalls, his eyes scanning for faces he recognized. He saw Old Man Dorran, his sharp eyes already watching as Arin passed by, suspicion etched into his wrinkled face. Arin gave him a polite nod but kept moving.
As they neared his house, the sense of anticipation grew. His mother was outside, tending to the small garden in front of their home. When she looked up and saw him, her face lit up with surprise, and she immediately dropped what she was doing to hurry over.
"Arin!" she exclaimed, pulling him into a tight embrace. "You're back."
"Just for a little while," Arin said softly, hugging her in return. "I needed to say goodbye."
His mother's smile faltered as she pulled back to look at him. "You're leaving again? So soon?"
Arin nodded, glancing at Kael, who stood a few steps behind him. "There's something I have to do, Ma. Something important."
Her eyes moved to Kael, and she seemed to understand, even without hearing the full story. "Is it… is it the prophecy?"
"Yes," Arin admitted. "I have to go."
His mother's face was pale, and her hands trembled slightly as she reached up to cup his cheek. "I always knew there was something special about you, Arin. But this… I never imagined it would take you so far away."
"I'll come back," Arin promised, though the weight of his words felt heavy. He wasn't sure when, or if, he would be able to return.
She nodded, her eyes filled with a mix of pride and sadness. "I know. Just be careful, my boy. The world out there is dangerous, and I don't want to lose you."
"You won't," Arin said, though even he wasn't sure he believed it. But he needed her to believe, needed her to have hope, even if he couldn't fully grasp what lay ahead.
They stood in silence for a few moments before his mother finally spoke. "Will you say goodbye to your friends?"
"I will," Arin replied. "I should go see them before I leave."
She gave him one last hug before stepping back. "Be safe, Arin. We'll be here, waiting for you."
With that, Arin turned and walked toward the other side of the village, where his friends often gathered by the stream. The air was cool, and the village was just starting to come to life as he made his way to the familiar spot. As he approached, he saw them—Jorah, Mira, and Hal—sitting on the edge of the stream, skipping stones across the water.
They hadn't noticed him yet, and for a brief moment, Arin hesitated. How could he tell them that he was leaving for something far bigger than they could imagine? How could he explain the weight of the prophecy, the sword, and the darkness he would soon face?
Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward. "Hey," he called out.
The three of them looked up, and their faces lit up with surprise and excitement.
"Arin!" Jorah shouted, jumping to his feet and running over to him. "You're back! Where have you been?"
Mira and Hal followed, both smiling as they approached. "We thought you were off on some adventure," Mira teased, nudging him playfully. "You disappear for a few days, and the whole village is talking."
Arin smiled weakly. "Something like that."
"Come on," Hal said, gesturing to the stream. "Tell us what you've been up to. You look… different."
Arin sat down with them, his heart heavy as he realized this might be the last time he would see them for a long while. He stared at the water for a moment before speaking.
"I have to leave," he said quietly.
The smiles on his friends' faces faded. Jorah frowned. "Leave? Where are you going?"
Arin hesitated, unsure of how to explain. "There's something I have to do. Something important. I found a sword, an old one… and it's tied to this prophecy. There's a darkness coming, and I've been chosen to stop it."
The words sounded strange even to his own ears, like something from a storybook. He waited for them to laugh or tell him he was crazy, but instead, they just stared at him in stunned silence.
Finally, Mira spoke, her voice quiet. "You're serious, aren't you?"
Arin nodded. "I don't want to leave, but I don't have a choice. This… this is something I have to do."
Jorah sat down beside him, his expression conflicted. "But you're not a warrior, Arin. You're just… you're one of us."
"I know," Arin said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But things are changing. I'm changing."
Mira reached out and touched his arm. "We'll miss you. But if this is what you have to do, then… we understand."
Arin felt a wave of emotion rise in his chest, but he pushed it down. He couldn't afford to break down now. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I'll miss you all, too."
Hal clapped him on the shoulder, his usual grin dimmed but still present. "Just make sure you come back a hero, alright? Don't let some prophecy keep you from visiting."
Arin chuckled softly, though his heart ached. "I'll do my best."
They sat in silence for a while, watching the stream flow by. The quiet was heavy, filled with unspoken words and emotions. Arin knew that once he left Briarwood, his life would never be the same. But for now, in this moment, he was just Arin—the farm boy sitting with his friends by the water.
When he finally stood to leave, they all rose with him. Jorah, Mira, and Hal each hugged him in turn, their goodbyes quiet but full of meaning.
"Take care of yourself, Arin," Mira said, her voice soft. "And remember—you'll always have a home here."
"I'll remember," Arin promised, his throat tight.
With one last look at his friends, Arin turned and walked back toward the village, where Kael waited for him at the edge of the road.
"Ready?" Kael asked, his tone gentle.
Arin nodded, though the weight of his decision still pressed down on him. "Ready."