Chapter 25 - the Wind

The morning sun peeked over the horizon, casting a warm, golden light across the clearing where they had camped the previous night. Birds chirped in the distance, and a faint breeze rustled through the trees, carrying the fresh scent of dew-covered grass. David stood near the stone monument, staring at the carvings with a furrowed brow, lost in thought. Ivane and Giorgi were packing up their supplies, chatting quietly.

Giorgi glanced at David, then nudged Ivane with his elbow. "He's doing it again."

Ivane followed Giorgi's gaze and sighed. "He's always thinking too much. Give him a minute."

David finally broke his gaze from the monument and turned toward them, his expression unreadable. "Let's get moving. We're close."

Giorgi slung his bag over his shoulder and gave a lazy grin. "I hope by 'close' you mean close to breakfast. Because I could eat a horse right about now."

David chuckled, though his mind was still occupied by thoughts of the builder's prophecy and the path ahead. "We'll find a village soon. But first, we need to reach the next marker."

Ivane, ever the strategist, stepped up beside David as they began walking. "You're still thinking about the prophecy, aren't you?"

David sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "How can I not? The Builder was supposed to be a symbol of hope, someone who united the kingdom and restored balance. And here I am, barely managing to keep my head above water."

Ivane gave him a sidelong glance. "You're not the builder, David. You don't have to be. But that doesn't mean you won't achieve something great. The path you're on—it's your own. Don't let the shadows of the past weigh you down."

David remained quiet for a moment, the weight of Ivane's words sinking in. "I know you're right. But there's always that lingering doubt, you know? What if I'm not enough? What if I fail?"

Giorgi, who had been listening, rolled his eyes dramatically. "Here we go. Classic 'what if' spiral. Let me break it down for you, my friend—nobody knows if they'll succeed. That's the whole point. You just have to keep pushing, keep fighting, and maybe, just maybe, things will fall into place."

David smirked. "You make it sound so simple."

"It is simple," Giorgi shrugged. "You're the one complicating it."

Ivane snorted. "I hate to say it, but Giorgi's right. Sometimes, you overthink things. Just focus on what's in front of you."

David's expression softened, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Alright, alright. I get it. Less thinking, more doing."

As they continued down the narrow path, the trees began to thin out, and the landscape opened up into rolling hills, dotted with patches of wildflowers. The wind picked up slightly, carrying with it the distant sound of rushing water.

Ivane tilted his head, listening. "There's a river nearby."

Giorgi's eyes lit up. "That means food! We can catch some fish."

David chuckled, shaking his head. "Always think about your stomach."

Giorgi grinned. "Hey, a man's got to eat. Besides, it's a good chance to rest for a bit. We've been walking for hours."

They reached the riverbank soon after, the water clear and cold as it rushed over smooth stones. Giorgi immediately set to work, finding a sturdy branch to fashion into a fishing spear, while Ivane crouched by the edge of the water, his fingers trailing in the cool stream.

David stood a little apart, gazing across the river at the distant mountains. His mind wandered once more, back to the builder's waypoints and the ancient prophecies. What had the builder seen in these lands? What had driven him to carve out a path of unity in a time of chaos?

Ivane noticed David's distant expression and spoke quietly. "You're doing it again."

David blinked, then gave a sheepish smile. "Sorry. Just... thinking."

Ivane stood and walked over to him, crossing his arms. "You need to stop carrying the world on your shoulders. We're in this together. You're not alone, David."

David looked at him, his gaze steady but filled with unspoken doubts. "I know. But sometimes, it feels like I am. Like all of this—everything we're fighting for—it rests on me."

Ivane's expression softened, and he placed a hand on David's shoulder. "You're not the only one fighting for this. We believe in you, David. We wouldn't be here if we didn't."

Before David could respond, Giorgi's voice cut through the moment, triumphant. "Got one!"

David and Ivane turned to see Giorgi holding up a fish, grinning from ear to ear. "Told you. Food always makes things better."

David laughed, the tension in his chest loosening a bit. "Alright, let's eat. We've got a long way to go."

They built a small fire, and the smell of roasting fish soon filled the air. As they sat around the flames, the warmth of the moment settled over them, a brief respite from the weight of their journey. Giorgi, as usual, kept the mood light with his banter, teasing Ivane about his serious demeanor and recounting old stories from their earlier adventures.

But as the evening wore on, and the fire began to die down, David's thoughts inevitably drifted back to the future. The journey ahead. The battles they still had to face.

Giorgi leaned back, staring up at the stars. "You ever wonder what the Builder thought when he looked up at the sky like this? Did he know what he was doing? Or was he just winging it like the rest of us?"

Ivane smirked. "I doubt anyone in history has had it all figured out. Even legends."

David, staring into the embers, murmured softly, "Maybe that's the point. Maybe it's not about knowing everything. It's about trusting that, somehow, it'll all make sense in the end."

Ivane and Giorgi exchanged a glance, then nodded quietly, their own thoughts stirring.

As the night grew colder, they settled down to rest, the distant sound of the river lulling them to sleep. And though the path ahead was still uncertain, for the first time in a while, David felt a small spark of hope. Maybe he wasn't the Builder, but that didn't mean he couldn't build something worth fighting for.

And as the stars watched over them, the whispers of the past faded into the wind, leaving only the echoes of what was yet to come.