The villagers had made their journey, and by the end of the day, they arrived at Dharmeis. They were tired but grateful to have reached safety. The sight of the town's walls brought a sense of relief, even as the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the landscape.
At the front gate of the town, several figures stood waiting to greet the weary newcomers. The most prominent among them was the Lord of the land, Count Evanesco Dermeuelle, the Comiten (Head of a county), accompanied by the town's Meior (chief), Baron Ioanis, along with several town guards. The villagers, their steps heavy with exhaustion, slowed as they approached the group. The captain who had led the villagers stepped forward, his posture stiffening as he prepared to report.
"Count Dermeuelle, Meior Ioanis," the captain greeted them formally, bowing slightly. "We have successfully escorted the villagers from Hingr Wynd. The journey was long, but we encountered no further troubles."
The Count nodded, his gaze sweeping over the huddled villagers. "Well done, Captain. Your efforts are appreciated." His voice was calm and composed, carrying the weight of authority. He then turned his attention to chief Bergyn, who stepped forward to greet him.
"Count Dermeuelle," Bergyn began, his voice rough with fatigue yet steady. "On behalf of the people of Hingr Wynd, I thank you for your kindness and protection. We are in your debt."
The Count waved a hand dismissively. "There is no debt, chief. I am responsible for all who live on this land. That includes the people of your village. You are all my people, and I will do what is necessary to ensure your safety."
Bergyn nodded, grateful for the Count's words. The exchange was brief but held a depth of understanding and mutual respect.
As the conversation continued, Grennyn stepped forward, catching the Count's attention. "Count Dermeuelle," he said with a slight bow. "I am Grennyn of Venatoria, the one who sent the message to you."
The Count's expression softened slightly in recognition. "Grennyn, your message reached me swiftly. You have my thanks for your diligence. Without your warning, we might not have been prepared for the influx of refugees."
Grennyn acknowledged the Count's gratitude with a nod. "I only did what was necessary, my lord. I'm glad we were able to arrive safely."
"I will have more questions about this 'Omen' matter," the Count continued, "but for now, I want the refugees to be taken to their resting spot."
"Yes, your lordship," Grennyn replied. "We adventurers of Venatoria are ready to discuss this matter further at your request."
The other adventurers stepped forward, bowing respectfully before the Count. He then gestured to Meior Ioanis, who greeted them with a welcoming smile.
"Meior Ioanis will oversee your settlement," the Count announced. "He has prepared a refugee camp on the outskirts of the town, where you will find shelter."
Meior Ioanis inclined his head. "Please, follow me. The camp is not far, and we have made arrangements to ensure your comfort as much as possible."
Despite their exhaustion, the villagers felt a renewed sense of hope. They followed Meior Ioanis through the gates and toward the field where the refugee camp awaited. The camp was spacious, with neatly arranged tents and fires already crackling, promising warmth and food.
The townspeople's reactions were mixed—some offered pity, while others treated the newcomers like passing strangers, wary of the unknown danger that had driven them from their homes.
As the villagers settled into their new accommodations, Arnolt and Xiona, still accompanied by some of the adventurers, shared a light conversation.
"What a journey," Arnolt sighed, fatigue weighing heavily on his words. "I'm too tired for anything else."
"Yeah, I could sleep for a week," Xiona agreed, yawning.
"You two better rest now, get your strength back up," Grennyn advised. "We'll be heading back to the guild."
"You're not staying in the camp with us?" Xiona asked, surprised.
"We have to file our reports," Grennyn explained. "It's obligatory. You'll understand once you join the guild."
"And besides, the sub-guild is just a short walk away in the town," Jaaka added. "Go look around, you won't miss the building."
"Yes, you can visit us in the morning," Tyrina said with a smile. "I'll show you around the town."
As they talked, Xiona noticed a few familiar faces were missing. "Wait, where's Lady Alastir and that Earth Mage? I didn't see them coming with us to the camp."
"That Earth Mage, Haeness went to the guild immediately after we arrived," Grennyn explained. "Lady Alastir was summoned by the Count just before we got here."
"Was she needed for another mission?" Xiona inquired, a hint of disappointment in her voice.
"She has her own obligations, so who knows." Grennyn replied, noticing Xiona's downcast expression. "Hey, cheer up. This won't be the last time you see her. She'll come around eventually."
"Now go to sleep," Grennyn ordered gently. "There's more than enough beds for all of you here."
"I think I'm going to stay up for a while," Arnolt said, his tone serious. "Who knows, there might be an emergency."
Immediately, Xiona clung tightly to him. "No! You are not doing that. I know you didn't sleep at all last night, so I'll make sure you do tonight."
"Xiona, come on, let go of me," Arnolt pleaded, but she did not budge.
"She's right, Arnolt," Grennyn agreed. "You're exhausted. You should do as I told you. Go to sleep. You don't want to get sick in this freezing weather."
"Rest up," Tyrina added. "By morning, we can have breakfast together. I'll show you my favorite food stall in town."
"Go get some shut-eye, kid. You need it," Jaaka chimed in. "See you later."
As the night deepened, Arnolt and Xiona, still clinging to her cousin, bid the others goodnight and finally drifted into much-needed sleep, resting for the challenges the next day would bring.