"Now, we should not worry yet; after all, we are far from anywhere the war can reach us," Adolphus said. His voice, weathered by years, carried the weight of both comfort and authority, as though he had seen too much and yet still clung to the belief that peace could be savored, however briefly.
Seraphina, still with her eyes on the child beside her, gently lifted her gaze to meet the old man's. "Where exactly am I?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper."You are on the outskirts of Ashworth," Adolphus replied, his hand resting on the doorframe, his eyes distant as though he were seeing more than the dimly lit room before them. "But not the Ashworth most people know. You are in Celandara."
There was a pause, the weight of the name sinking into the silence. Adolphus remained standing in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the soft golden light of the setting sun. "Celandara," he repeated, his voice thick with reverence, as though the very word carried with it an ancient, quiet power.
"It lies beneath the highest mountain in these lands. Once a year, the moon crowns that peak."His gaze turned upward, as if he could see it now, even in the fading light. A deep sigh escaped him, carrying the years of burdens he'd never spoken of. "When the moon rests upon that mountain, its light protects this village. It's not magic, nor is it a promise—only a legacy of hope."
For a long moment, Seraphina was silent.Adolphus, sensing the stillness, smiled gently, his features softening. He looked at Seraphina with eyes that had seen too much but never lost their light. "Hope," he said, his voice quiet but firm, "is all a person ever needs to go on, wouldn't you agree, Sera?"
She offered a small, tired smile in return, her gaze returning to the sleeping child beside her. The child was a symbol of hope in its purest form—a new life amid the encroaching shadows of war. And yet, Seraphina knew how fragile that hope was.Adolphus turned, his movements slow but purposeful, as he made his way to the woman standing just outside the doorway.
Her hand remained clasped around the boy's, their fingers entwined, as though offering silent comfort in the face of all that was uncertain. "Marianne," he said softly, "come. Let's go see what the others have to say about this war brewing, hmm?"With a soft creak of the floorboards, they moved toward the door.
As Adolphus stepped outside, he turned back one last time, his eyes lingering on Seraphina, her thoughts hidden behind a veil of quiet reflection.The door clicked shut behind them, leaving Seraphina in the stillness of the room. There, in the dimming light, the future seemed as uncertain as the fate of Celandara itself.As Adolphus and Marianne left the room where the mother and her child rested, the stillness of the village surrounded them.
The faint sound of a breeze rustling through the trees was the only noise as they walked down the narrow, uneven path that led toward the elder's home. Behind them, the mother's voice broke the silence, sharp and urgent.
"Go now, get all my old clothing out of the shed—now, quickly!" The young boy, barely more than a shadow against the fading light, nodded eagerly and dashed off toward his home. His tiny footsteps echoed briefly through the village before the sound was swallowed by the wilderness once more. Adolphus' eyes, weathered and full of memories, were fixed ahead as they continued their walk. The path twisted between trees, with the darkening sky pressing in above them. His thoughts, however, were far from the peace of the village or the beauty of the land. Instead, they were consumed by the news that had reached them—the impending war.
The distant rumblings of violence, of unrest, that threatened to swallow the world outside Celandara's borders.The weight of it all sat heavily on his shoulders, but he spoke little of it."Adolphus, this war is truly terrible news," Marianne's voice was soft but filled with the raw edge of fear, as if saying the words aloud would make the looming threat more palpable. "What are we going to do?" Her hands were clasped together tightly, as though holding them in place could keep her from unraveling entirely. She looked at him, her concern etched deeply in her features.
The lines of age and wisdom on her face had deepened in recent years, but beneath it, there was a fear of the unknown that even the elders could not shake off.Adolphus paused for a moment, his shoes creaking on the earth beneath him as he stopped to gather his thoughts. His back, once straight and unyielding, was now slightly hunched with the weight of his years, yet his resolve remained strong.
He had lived through many things—some he could speak of, others he would never voice—and he knew that fear, no matter how justified, could not shape their path now."We will do what we have always done, Marianne," he said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of someone who had seen the world change and yet found a way to survive. "We will stand firm. We have always faced the unknown together, and we will face this too. There is no other way."His words were comforting, but even he could not deny the uncertainty in his heart. The winds of change were sweeping across the land, and Celandara, for all its legacy and strength, could not remain untouched. It was not the first time the village had been threatened, but this time felt different.Marianne's gaze lingered on him for a moment, her eyes searching for some sign of certainty that might dispel the fear that clung to her. But when he offered no further explanation, she simply nodded, her face softening with a weary resignation.
They continued walking, each step seeming heavier than the last as they approached the elder's hall, where the fate of their village—and perhaps their very lives—would be decided. The road ahead, uncertain as it was, had no easy answers. And yet, the village continued to stand, nestled beneath the shadow of the great mountain, where the moon would crown the peak once more. What the light would bring this time, no one could say. But they would wait, as they always had.