The dining hall was alive with chatter, the hum of conversation bouncing off the stone walls. Arren sat quietly at the long table, his bowl of soup forgotten as his friends animatedly discussed their day. Noor was recounting a strategy drill gone awry, Mira was laughing at Brynn's exaggerated tale of hitting a target blindfolded, and Torren chimed in with his usual dry wit.
Arren's gaze drifted, his mind elsewhere. The weight of his secrets—of the winter dragon, the shadow wolves, the pup now nestled at his feet, and the precious dragon egg tucked in his magical pouch—pressed heavily on him. For now, he would let his friends fill the air with their stories.
A group of cavaliers sat at a nearby table, their voices low but carrying enough for Arren to catch snippets of their conversation.
"...more animals gone missing. It's not just livestock now; farmers too. Disappearances are getting worse, but no one's returned to file a report."
"Another farmer? That's the third this week," one cavalier said, shaking his head. "And it's all happening in the southern farmlands, near the forests."
Arren's ears pricked up at this, but he kept his expression neutral.
At another table, a group of hunters spoke in hushed, urgent tones. Their words were sharper, the tension clear in their voices.
"...massive ogre in the northeast, near the second border," one said, his voice trembling. "It tore through an entire squad of hunters. Only a few of us made it back to warn the shield units."
Arren turned his head slightly, pretending to stretch, just enough to catch more of their words.
"The captain of the shield unit himself came to deal with it," another hunter said. "Used a blaze of ice to take it down. I've never seen power like that before. He's strong, no doubt about it, but... even he barely managed to kill it."
A third hunter added grimly, "And if ogres are showing up near the second border, what else could be lurking out there?"
Arren felt a chill creep down his spine. The borders were supposed to be well-guarded, fortified by the Imperial Shield, yet these stories spoke of cracks in their defenses.
He glanced down at Fri, who was curled up under the table, his breathing soft and steady. The dog's unassuming form belied the truth of what it was—or what it might become. Arren's hand instinctively moved to his waist, where the magical pouch containing the dragon egg rested. He could feel its faint warmth through the fabric, a reminder of the responsibility he now bore.
As the night wore on, Arren listened to the murmurs of the dining hall. Stories of danger, loss, and strange occurrences filled the air, weaving a tapestry of unease that mirrored the growing tension in his own heart. When the time came to leave, he stood, bidding his friends a quiet goodnight.
"Turning in early?" Noor asked, his sharp eyes studying Arren.
"It's been a long day," Arren replied with a faint smile. "I need rest. Tomorrow, I might take a walk through the market. Clear my head."
Brynn smirked. "Market day? Don't forget to bring back something interesting. Maybe some trinket to go with that mysterious aura of yours."
Arren chuckled, shaking his head. "We'll see."
With that, he left the hall, Fri trotting faithfully at his side. His footsteps echoed in the quiet corridors as he made his way back to his quarters. Once inside, he let out a long breath, leaning against the door.
The events of the day swirled in his mind—the winter dragon and its solemn gaze, the ferocity of the shadow wolves, the enigmatic woman who had crossed his path, and the fragile egg that now tied him to a destiny he couldn't yet fathom.
Arren set his magical pouch on the table, his fingers brushing over the fabric. "Tomorrow," he murmured, his voice low, "I'll figure out what to do next."
As he lay down, Fri curled up at his feet, and the soft glow of moonlight filtered through the window, Arren closed his eyes. Rest would not come easily, but for now, it was enough to simply be still.