The wind howled like a banshee, carrying with it the icy breath of winter that was creeping closer, a silent, deadly predator. Inside, a grim council convened, their faces illuminated by the flickering flames of the hearth. Elara, the young and blue-eyed leader, sat at the head of the table, her gaze sweeping across the room.
Darius, a man of unwavering resolve, sat beside her, his expression etched with concern. To his right, Marcus, a grizzled veteran, shifted impatiently in his seat, his eyes filled with a smoldering anger. Titus, a young and eager knight, sat beside Marcus, his face pale with worry.
On the other side of the table, Livia, the only woman among them, watched the proceedings with a keen eye. Gaius, a man of few words but unwavering loyalty, sat beside her, his expression unreadable. And at the far end of the table, an empty seat seemingly reserved for the Healer could be seen. Vergil, though is nowhere to be found.
"I think you've given that Healer a little too much free reign," Marcus growled, his voice breaking the tense silence. "That needs to stop."
Darius's jaw tightened. "The Healer is here to help," he said, his voice firm.
"Then let him do so where he is most skilled at," Marcus retorted.
"Tell me, Lord Darius," Gaius said, his voice calm but laced with a hint of challenge. "What benefit has his meddling with our war brought to us? Is there something I am not seeing?"
Darius hesitated, his mind racing. Though Vergil's motivation remained a mystery, he had believed in his abilities, but even he couldn't deny that the results had been mixed.
"He foretold our utter demise at the hands of the enemy," Darius finally said.
"How could he tell?" Gaius asked.
Darius's eyes narrowed. "He did not say," he replied.
"That's not good enough," Gaius said. "If he can't provide a clear explanation, then we cannot trust him."
Livia, who had been listening intently, stepped forward. "We owe a debt of gratitude to the healer," she declared, her gaze locked on Darius. "What is his name?"
"Corvus." Elara replied,
Marcus scoffed. "Corvus? What kind of name is that?"
Livia ignored him. "Corvus... but we cannot follow his words blindly," she continued.
Marcus gladly nodded. "She's right," he said. "We must weigh the evidence carefully."
"That being said," Livia sliced through Marcus's speech. "His prowess, both magical and healing, is unparalleled."
"So, what are you saying?" said Darius, his eyebrows raised.
Livia hesitated for a moment, her eyes scanning the faces of the elders. "Perhaps, we shouldn't completely dismiss his words," she finally said.
A murmur ran through the room. The elders were clearly divided. Some were still skeptical, while others were beginning to see the wisdom in Livia's words.
Gaius finally spoke up. "Fine... let's say you're right," he conceded. "But how do we convince Valor?... The healer didn't see that far, did he?"
Darius hesitated for a moment. "Surely, Valor suffers the same plight as we do," he replied. "The enemy's death will do him much good as it will, us."
A wave of confusion washed over the faces of the elders. They were clearly struggling to understand the logic behind Darius's words.
"The summoner's demise is imperative to halt this madness," Darius stated, his tone unwavering. "We'll cut a deal with Valor: vanquish the foe, in exchange for our people's sanctuary within his walls."
Livia shook her head, her doubt palpable. "Valor doesn't believe us to be any better than he is," she countered. "What is it we can do that he cannot?"
The elders exchanged glances. Livia was right. Valor is a force to be reckoned with, a mountain of power. His army is vast, his arsenal unparalleled. Making him see their worth would be like trying to climb an insurmountable peak.
A wave of silence washed over the room. They were trapped, surrounded by a seemingly insurmountable obstacle. Their future hung in the balance, and there seemed to be no way out.
"This must be one of the healer's suggestions," Marcus said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Darius's face flushed red with anger. "I'm open to ideas," he finally said, "Do we truly believe that passivity is a viable strategy? That we can outrun the relentless tide of monsters that the summoner would unleash upon us?"
Everyone in the room could feel the weight of his words, the gravity of the situation. They had to act, had to fight. Enough of living in terror, of always looking over their shoulder. They craved an end to their suffering, a chance at tranquility.
"Disaster looms with the next attack," Elara announced, breaking the silence. "We must seek King Valor's help, or we will all perish."
Seeing that no one had anything to say, Darius stood up, his eyes ablaze with a newfound resolve. "We will go to Valor," he said. "We will offer him our deal, and we will convince him to help us."
~
The morning sun cast long, dancing shadows across the cobbled streets of the village as Darius, Bain, Kailo, and Zephyr mounted their horses. A gentle breeze carried the mingled scents of freshly baked bread and blooming wildflowers, mingling with the excited chatter of the villagers who had gathered to bid them farewell.
As the four riders passed through the village gate, the air grew thick with a sense of anticipation. Darius' brow furrowed slightly as he scanned the crowd for a familiar figure. Where was Vergil? The Healer should have been punctual, his presence reassuring, especially on a journey such as this.
"We wait here," Darius said, his voice firm.
"No offense, Lord Darius," said Kailo, "But why do we wait?"
"The Healer," Darius replied, his eyes glued to the horizon. "He ought to be here."
The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the distant calls of birds. A sense of unease began to settle over the group, and Darius' grip on the reins tightened. Where was Vergil? And why had he not arrived?
As the minutes ticked by, a new figure emerged from the crowd. It was Leila, her face pale and drawn, but her eyes filled with a determination that belied her physical weakness. She approached Darius, her voice barely a whisper.
"I must come with you," she pleaded, her eyes filled with tears. "I can't stay here."
"Leila, you shouldn't be here?!" Darius exclaimed, his voice filled with astonishment and a hint of anger.
"I'm fine, I promise," Leila replied, her voice calm despite the obvious strain.
"No!" Darius' voice boomed, his tone hardening. "You will not come with us!"
The memory of Leila's near-death experience lingered like a dark cloud over Darius. He could still vividly recall the horror of seeing her brought into the hospital, her pale skin marred by a deep, gaping wound that stretched from her shoulder to her waist. It was a miracle she had survived, but the image of her unconscious form was burned into his mind.
The contrast between Leila's survival and Zara's tragic demise was a constant reminder of the harsh realities of their world. Zara, a young woman bursting with life and potential, had succumbed to her injury. Her lifeless body had been discovered leaning against a wall, her pale skin devoid of color, her arm severed. The sight of her had shattered the entire village.
Zara regained consciousness just in time to see Leila on the brink of a fatal blow from a straggler, and had instinctively interposed herself, shielding Leila from certain death.
"I'm stronger than you think," Leila insisted. "I can help you."
Darius sighed, his heart heavy. He knew that Leila was right. She was a valuable member of the group, and her presence would be a comfort to him. But he also couldn't bear the thought of her risking her life again.
"I'm sorry, Leila," Darius said, "You can't come with us."
Leila's face fell, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. She nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "I understand," she said, turning away to leave.
Darius knew that he had made the right decision, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was letting her down.
The sun was beginning its descent, when a figure appeared in their line of view.
"Didn't expect you to wait this long," he said, his voice barely a whisper, a grin spreading across his face.
Darius's anger flared. He wanted to yell, to berate Vergil for his tardiness. But the words caught in his throat, swallowed by a wave of exhaustion. Instead, he could only sigh, his frustration evident.
"We have a long way ahead of us," he said, his voice flat. "Let's get going."
As the group mounted their horses and prepared to depart, Darius couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. Vergil undoubtedly had patients requiring urgent treatment, and he had probably done what he believed was right. However, the delay had put them behind schedule, and it had also increased the danger lurking on their journey.
Despite his misgivings, Darius knew that they had no choice but to press on. The mission was too important to be delayed any longer. And so, with a heavy heart, he led the group out of the village and onto the road ahead.