Delmo led the group through the dense forest, his senses heightened as they neared Brighthaven. The distant sound of a bustling marketplace and the faint echo of laughter floated through the air, a stark contrast to the oppressive silence of Eldham's ruins. He could almost taste the freedom on the wind, but with it came a sense of urgency. They needed safety, and they needed it soon.
"Stay close," he instructed, glancing back at Elara and the other villagers trailing behind him. Their weary faces reflected exhaustion, but determination shone through their eyes.
"Are we getting close?" Elara asked, brushing damp strands of hair from her forehead.
Delmo nodded. "Just over this ridge."
As they ascended the hill, Brighthaven lay before them like a jewel. Its stone walls seemed like they were shimmering in the sunlight. The city buzzed with life as people moved around like ants in a hive. There were merchants everywhere that sold wares and children darted between stalls.
"Look!" One villager pointed at a distant archway. The guards standing at the gate waved them forward with authority.
"Keep in mind," Jax stated firmly, pulling their focus back to him. "We must exercise caution. Not everyone will be friendly."
They felt the weight of his words settle over them. Memories of the marauders flooded their mind. All their hardships the past week had led to this moment.
They approached the city gate, an imposing structure manned by guards clad in leather armor, their eyes scanning each newcomer for threats. Delmo's heart raced. He sensed that they were weary.
"What brings you to Brighthaven?" one guard barked as they drew near.
"We seek refuge," Jax replied, stepping forward with purpose. "We're survivors from Eldham."
The guard's brow furrowed at mention of Eldham Village, a name that was barely familiar in these lands. The others huddled behind him as they awaited judgment.
The guard exchanged glances with his companion before turning back to Jax. "Survivors are always welcome if you have coin or trade."
Delmo swallowed hard. They had neither but hoped for their understanding.
Elara stepped forward hesitantly. "We lost everything… but we have skills."
"We can work," another villager chimed in quickly, desperation seeping into her voice.
The guards flinched at their earnestness but maintained their stoic façade. The tension hung thick as Delmo waited for a response that could shape their future in this city filled with promise and peril alike.
Delmo held his breath as the guard's expression softened, ever so slightly, at Elara's words. It was a small crack in the armor, but it was enough to give him a glimmer of hope. Delmo took a step forward, his eyes locked on the guard's.
"We're willing to work for our keep," Delmo said, his voice steady. "We have farmers, craftsmen, and healers among us. We can contribute to the city's prosperity."
The guard's gaze flicked to Elara, then to the other villagers, before returning to Delmo. He seemed to be weighing their words, searching for signs of deception.
After what felt like an eternity, the guard nodded. "Very well. I'll let you pass, but you'll need to speak with the Baroness. She'll decide what to do with you."
Delmo let out a silent sigh of relief as the guard stepped aside, allowing them to pass. He led the group through the gates, his senses on high alert as they entered the bustling city. The sounds and smells of Brighthaven enveloped them, a cacophony of laughter, hammering, and baked goods.
As they made their way through the crowded streets, Delmo kept a watchful eye on his companions. They looked around in awe, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten in the face of the city's vibrancy. Elara walked beside him, her eyes shining with a mix of excitement and fear. Delmo had to admit, Brighthaven was a huge city.
The guard who had let them pass, led them through the winding streets to a large stone building. The sign above the door read "Baron's Hall" in elegant letters.
"This is where you'll find the Baroness," the guard said, gesturing to the door. "Be honest with her, and she may take pity on you. Good luck."
Delmo nodded his thanks, steeling himself for what lay ahead. He pushed open the door, leading his group into the unknown.
Inside, the hall was cool and dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of parchment and ink. A woman with a kind face and piercing green eyes looked up from behind a large wooden desk.
"Ah, the survivors from Eldham," she said, her voice warm and gentle. "I am Baroness Marcella. Please, come forward and tell me your story."
Delmo stepped forward, feeling the weight of the Baroness's gaze. Her emerald eyes sparkled with curiosity, and her presence commanded the room. The air thickened around him, drawing his focus away from the chaos that had been his life just days prior.
"Your Grace," he began, swallowing hard. "We came from Eldham. Marauders attacked our village. They killed many… including my parents." The words tumbled out, heavy with emotion.
Elara stood beside him, her expression a mixture of determination and sorrow. "We lost everything," she added, her voice steady despite the tremor beneath it. "We fled for our lives."
As the rest of the villagers continued their story, Baroness Marcella's curiosity was aroused. "Marauders? This is troubling news. They've been more active lately. To imagine that they would decimate villages…" She steepled her fingers under her chin, contemplating their plight.
Delmo stood beside Elara, watching as the villagers shared their tale with Baroness Marcella. Jax, their unofficial leader since the loss of the village elder, stepped forward, his shoulders squared and voice unwavering.
"We're not just survivors," Jax declared, his tone steady despite the tremor of fear beneath it. "We're farmers, craftsmen, and builders. We can contribute to Brighthaven."
The Baroness nodded, her gaze never leaving Jax's face. "What skills do you possess?"
Jax took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "I worked alongside my wife Lila at the forge, so we can smith tools and weapons. Others among us can till the soil and harvest crops." He gestured to an elder woman beside him who held a small child close to her chest. "Mira here is a skilled healer; she's saved many lives in Eldham."
Delmo felt a surge of pride for Jax as he spoke with conviction. He could see hope flickering in the eyes of the villagers, each eager to show they had something valuable to offer.
Mira stepped forward, her voice trembling yet resolute. "We can't return home. Most of our fighters are gone, the village is burned down and the marauders may kill us if they find us again." She looked around at the others gathered near Delmo, their faces drawn but determined. "We only ask for shelter—just until we can find our footing again."
Baroness Marcella listened intently as each villager took turns recounting their losses and fears. A heavy silence settled over the room as tales of violence and destruction filled the air.
"Last week," Jax said, his voice steady despite the tremor beneath it, "we were gathered in the square when they came—shouting and wielding blades. They set fire to our homes, leaving us no choice but to flee." His fists clenched at his sides as he glanced at Delmo, who felt a surge of pride for the man stepping into the leadership role. Jax had always been the second-in-command, but everyone felt like belonged at the front.
Mira stepped forward next, her face lined with grief. "I lost my son that day," she said, her voice breaking but resolute. "He tried to protect his sister when they stormed our home. I couldn't save him." Tears pooled in her eyes as she spoke of their shared tragedy. Delmo's heart twisted at her pain; he knew all too well the loss that gripped her.
Delmo's heart ached with every story shared. Memories of the past Eldham flashed before him. The laughter of children playing in fields, the warmth of his mother's embrace. Now all that remained of them were ashes and grief.
"Elara can cook," one villager chimed in after Mira finished. "She could help in the kitchens."
Delmo watched Elara step forward shyly, her hands clasped tightly together. "I can also gather herbs for medicine," she added quickly, glancing at Mira with empathy.
Baroness Marcella nodded thoughtfully, listening intently to every word spoken.
Then it happened. Delmo caught sight of a glimmer of interest flash across Marcella's features when Jax mentioned how they had banded together against marauders only days before. "Brighthaven has its challenges," she began slowly. "Resources are scarce with so many mouths to feed already." She paused, glancing at Delmo, who stood with clenched fists by Elara's side.
"We understand," Jax interjected quickly, sensing hesitation from the Baroness. "But we bring more than just need; we bring strength and resilience forged through hardship."
Delmo nodded in agreement, his own resolve solidifying as he recalled how they had banded together against marauders just days ago.
"Let us prove our worth," Jax continued, locking eyes with Marcella. "Give us a chance to show you what we can do."
The weight of expectation filled the room as everyone waited for her response, tension thick enough to slice through with Delmo's sword.
If only it could cut through uncertainty too.
Delmo watched as the Baroness considered their words, her gaze flickering between Jax and the villagers. He could sense the unspoken fears swirling around them, threatening to suffocate hope.
Delmo stood slightly behind Jax, tension coiling in his stomach as the Baroness considered their plight.
Her gaze roamed over the ragged group of survivors, lingering on each face etched with grief and determination. It was then that Delmo felt a shift in the atmosphere—a palpable awareness directed toward him.
"Your eyes," Marcella said suddenly, her voice slicing through the murmurs of the villagers. "There's a fierceness in them."
Delmo straightened, meeting her penetrating gaze. It was unsettling yet invigorating. Her recognition sparked something deep within him, igniting the thirst for power he had only begun to understand.
"You fought back against the marauders?", Marcella continued, a thoughtful frown tugging at her lips.
Delmo nodded slowly, his throat tight as he recalled that brutal day—the rush of adrenaline and the moment when he unleashed the verdant energy from within him to strike down his enemies.
"Show me," she commanded, a spark of curiosity lighting up her eyes.
He blinked, unsure if he had heard correctly. "What do you mean?"
"Demonstrate your skills.", she said as she rose from behind her desk. "If you truly possess talent..."
The room fell silent as all eyes turned to Delmo. He felt their weight pressing on him—hopeful glances mixed with anxiousness and skepticism. He glanced at Elara, who nodded encouragingly, urging him silently to step forward.
"Very well," Delmo replied, cracking his shoulders and taking a breath to center himself. He stepped into the center of the hall, aware of every heartbeat echoing around him.