The morning sun cast golden rays over the village, the scent of fresh bread and dew in the air. Kael pulled his coat tighter around himself as he stepped outside, the familiar crunch of snow underfoot a comforting sound. It was his usual morning routine—heading to the market square to pick up supplies for his family.
As he walked, Kael's thoughts wandered. Yesterday, he'd overheard something strange in the village—a mention of an ancient king. It stuck with him, gnawing at his mind. The name "King Khafel Vodark" had echoed in his ears, though the speaker had quickly changed the subject. It wasn't the first time he'd heard whispers about the Vodarkians, but something felt different this time.
He shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts. The village square came into view, bustling with its usual morning activity. Vendors called out their wares, children chased each other through the streets, and the hum of everyday life surrounded him. But Kael couldn't fully shake the feeling that something was out of place.
He quickly made his rounds, picking up bread, dried meat, and other essentials. His mother would be expecting him to return soon, and there was work to be done at home. But as he walked past a stall selling trinkets and charms, something unusual caught his eye.
A man stood near the stall, his back to Kael. His clothes were dark, and a long, weathered cloak draped over his frame. His face was obscured by a large-brimmed hat, but something about his presence was immediately striking. There was an air of mystery surrounding him, like he didn't quite belong to this village.
Kael paused, his curiosity piqued. It wasn't common for travelers to come through, and even less so for ones that seemed to stand apart from the others. Most travelers were noisy, eager to sell their goods and move on. This one, however, was different.
As Kael moved closer, the man turned slightly, and their eyes met. Kael felt a strange, almost magnetic pull. The stranger's eyes were a piercing shade of gray, deep and unreadable. Kael instinctively took a step back, but something made him stop.
The man didn't say anything at first. Instead, he studied Kael, as if sizing him up. Kael felt an uncomfortable chill run down his spine.
"You're not from here, are you?" Kael finally asked, his voice betraying his unease.
The man raised an eyebrow, a small smirk appearing on his face. "No, I'm just passing through," he replied, his voice smooth and calm, with a strange, almost foreign accent.
Kael couldn't help but feel like there was more to this man than he was letting on. Something about him seemed familiar, but Kael couldn't place it. The man's eyes lingered on Kael for a moment longer, as if seeing right through him.
"My name is Kael," Kael said after a beat, wanting to break the awkward silence.
The stranger nodded but didn't offer his own name. Instead, he glanced around the square for a moment before speaking again.
"There are legends about this place," the man said, his voice low, as if he were speaking to himself. "Long ago, the Vodarkians ruled over much of these lands. Fearsome and unyielding." He paused, looking at Kael with a knowing glint in his eyes. "Some say their blood still flows through the veins of this very village. But only a few know the truth."
Kael froze, the words sinking in. He hadn't expected this conversation to take such a turn. The Vodarkians were nothing but stories to him—distant, unreachable myths. But something about the traveler's tone made him second-guess his own beliefs.
"What do you mean?" Kael asked, his voice cautious.
The stranger smiled faintly, his eyes glimmering with a hint of mischief. "I wouldn't expect you to understand just yet. But you'll see. All in good time." He stepped back, turning to leave, but then he paused. "Remember," he said, his voice barely a whisper, "not all legends are buried in the past. Some still walk among us."
And with that, the man turned, his dark cloak fluttering behind him as he vanished into the crowd. Kael stood frozen for a moment, the words echoing in his mind.
Something about the encounter felt unsettling. The man's cryptic words lingered in Kael's mind, like an open wound that wouldn't heal. What did he mean by "some still walk among us"? Was he talking about the Vodarkians? Or was he referring to something—or someone—else?
As the crowd around him bustled with the usual noise of market activity, Kael couldn't shake the feeling that his life had just taken a strange and mysterious turn. He wasn't sure what to make of the traveler, but one thing was certain: the mention of King Khafel Vodark and the Vodarkians wasn't a coincidence.
Later that evening, as Kael returned home with the supplies, his thoughts were consumed by the brief encounter. He tucked the strange conversation away in his mind, knowing his parents would never understand the odd encounter. But something inside him stirred, urging him to seek out more answers.
It was late when Kael finally made it to bed, staring at the ceiling as the silence enveloped him. The words of the mysterious traveler still echoed through his mind, and for the first time in a long while, Kael felt an unfamiliar unease about what lay ahead.
He wasn't sure why, but he knew this wasn't the last time he'd hear about the Vodarkians—or the strange traveler who seemed to know far more than he was letting on.