The shadows stirred one last time as dawn broke, dispersing like smoke in the crisp morning air. I stood at the edge of the forest, the oppressive darkness of the labyrinth now behind us. A faint wind whispered through the trees, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine. The light of day filtered through the branches, promising a new beginning yet tinged with the heaviness of what lay ahead.
The survivors—seven in total—gathered around me. Myra, Lira, and Faco stood close, their newfound strength and confidence evident in their stances. The remaining four—Tador, a wiry man with a limp; Calen, a timid boy barely past his teens; Ayla, whose sharp features masked her uncertainty; and Renn, a burly figure with kind eyes—hovered at the periphery.
The forest thinned ahead, opening to a vast plain that stretched toward the horizon. I could see the faint outline of a town in the distance, its walls barely more than a smudge against the blue sky. It would be a few hours' walk, but the promise of civilization—and answers—beckoned.
I turned to the group, my eyes scanning each of them. "Before we go any further, we need to talk."
Their gazes fixed on me, a mix of anticipation and wariness in their expressions. I drew a breath, letting the weight of my words settle in my chest before speaking.
"Myra, Lira, and Faco have sworn their loyalty to me," I began, gesturing to the three who now stood straighter at the mention. "They have taken an oath, and I have accepted it. Together, we will build something greater than what we've left behind."
The other four exchanged uncertain glances.
"But for the rest of you," I continued, my voice firm but not unkind, "your path is your own to choose. I won't force anyone to follow me. The road ahead will be dangerous, filled with challenges most won't survive. If you're not ready to take that risk, there's no shame in stepping away now."
Tador frowned, his thin lips pressing together. "You're telling us to leave?"
"Not forever," I said, meeting his gaze. "For now. Take this chance to find your strength, to rebuild what was taken from you. When you're ready—when you believe you can stand tall and fight for something greater—come find me."
The forest fell silent, save for the rustling leaves. Calen shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting between the others. Ayla's sharp features softened as doubt clouded her expression. Renn, steady and dependable, looked at me with an expression that was both resigned and understanding.
"How will we find you?" Ayla asked, her voice tinged with hesitance.
"You'll know," I said simply. "The world has a way of bringing paths together when the time is right."
For a moment, they didn't move. The hesitation was palpable, their fear of stepping into the unknown warring with their desire for purpose. I took a step closer, letting the shadows coil faintly around me—not as a threat, but as a reminder of what they had survived.
"You've come this far," I said, my voice quieter now. "You're stronger than you realize. But strength takes time to grow. Use that time wisely."
Tador was the first to break the silence. With a sharp nod, he turned and began walking toward the open plain. Calen hesitated, his wide eyes meeting mine before he hurried after Tador. Ayla lingered a moment longer, her sharp features softening as she studied me.
"Don't forget us," she said quietly.
"I won't," I replied.
Finally, Renn stepped forward. He towered over me, but his presence was gentle. "You're giving us a choice," he said. "That's more than anyone else has ever done. I'll make sure we don't waste it."
I nodded, watching as the four of them disappeared into the distance. A faint pang of regret lingered in my chest, but I pushed it aside. I couldn't carry everyone—not yet.
Once they were gone, I turned to the remaining three. Myra, Lira, and Faco stood quietly, their eyes on me.
"Let's move," I said, gesturing toward the faint outline of the town.
------
The journey across the plains was uneventful but taxing. The sun climbed higher, beating down on us as we walked. Myra and Lira kept pace with ease, their strides confident and unyielding. Faco remained his usual quiet self, his gaze scanning the horizon for potential threats.
By midday, we reached the outskirts of the town; a barely standing signboard, read Haverstead. The town was modest—a small collection of stone and timber buildings surrounded by a low wall. Smoke curled from chimneys, and the faint hum of life buzzed in the air.
At the gates, a pair of guards stood watch. They weren't imposing—older men with mismatched armor and worn spears—but their eyes sharpened as we approached.
"State your business," one of them called, his voice rough but not unfriendly.
I stepped forward, letting the shadows around me recede. "We're travelers, looking for supplies and information."
The guard's gaze flicked over us, lingering on Myra and Lira before returning to me. He grunted and gestured us through.
"Behave yourselves," he muttered. "We don't want trouble."
Inside, the town was alive with activity. Merchants hawked their wares from stalls lining the main street, children darted between the crowds, and the scent of freshly baked bread wafted through the air. It was a far cry from the suffocating darkness of the labyrinth, and for a moment, I allowed myself to take it in.
"We should split up," I said, turning to the others. "Gather supplies, listen for any news. We'll meet back here in an hour."
They nodded, dispersing into the crowd.
As I wandered the streets, my attention was drawn to a small, dimly lit shop tucked away from the main thoroughfare. The sign above the door read "Relics and curiosities."
Curious, I stepped inside. The air was thick with the scent of incense, and the shelves were lined with an eclectic mix of items—tarnished coins, strange crystals, and dusty tomes.
The shopkeeper, an elderly woman with sharp eyes and a knowing smile, looked up from behind the counter.
"Not often I see someone like you," she said, her voice soft but sharp.
"Someone like me?" I echoed, raising an eyebrow.
Her gaze flicked to the faint shadows coiling around my wrists. "You carry a weight most can't see. The kind of weight that leaves scars on the soul."
I tensed but said nothing.
She chuckled, reaching under the counter to produce a small, intricately carved box. "This might interest you."
I hesitated before taking the box, opening it to reveal a mildly heavy book.
"What is it?" I asked.
"A record of the histories, just as you're searching for " she said cryptically.
As I stared at her, I remembered my past encounters with fortune tellers and soothsayers, but surprisingly the old lady didn't strike me as any.
Yet she knew exactly what I was looking for?.
I tapped at the sides of my worn shorts, trying to fake the loss of possessions I didn't own, but instead the old lady smiled. Gesturing for me to take it for free.
With that I walked away, still staring at the intricate carvings on the cover of the book.
An hour later, we regrouped at the town square. Myra and Lira had managed to procure food and basic supplies, while Faco had overheard rumors of a nearby bandit camp causing trouble for the town.
"We could use the work," Faco suggested. "And the experience."
I nodded thoughtfully. The bandits weren't my concern, but earning the town's favor—and testing our new strength—could be useful.
"Let's rest for now," I said. "We'll deal with the bandits on a later date."
As night fell over Haverstead, I found myself staring out the window of the small inn we'd secured with what we had left from ravaging the overseers.
The book rested on the table besides me, flipped on its first page but still untouched.
The road ahead was long and uncertain, but for the first time in this new life, I felt a sense of purpose.
And I wasn't walking it alone.