By Grine's dark flow, where shadows spread,
The river winds through glens of dread.
Its waters whisper o' tales o' woe,
Where none dare tread, nor courage show.
In Grine's deep heart, the beast does bide,
Nae man can ken what lies inside.
Its coat like moss, green-dark and foul,
Its een like coals that burn and scowl.
Bairns are warned by firelight's glow,
"Dinnae wander where waters flow.
The beast will rise when shadows creep,
An' drag ye doon tae endless sleep."
Fisherfolk, they aye keep clear,
Nae nets are cast when night draws near.
The river sings its eerie song,
An' warns o' where the beast belongs.
Several days had passed since Kai left the safety and solace of the forest behind. The journey had taken him east along the mountain range, drawn by a faint sense of familiarity—a tether to steady him in a world far broader and more uncertain than ever before. Icy gales swept across the land in fierce bursts, howling like restless spirits. Each gust bit through the thick cloak wrapped tightly around him, forcing careful steps and robbing breath with its bitter chill.
Snow flurries swirled and danced with the ever-shifting air currents, creating a chaotic yet mesmerizing display. Clouded skies blocked the daylight, casting the world in a muted, oppressive gray. The ground, cloaked beneath an unbroken mask of pure white. Each step Kai took shattered the illusion of perfection, his boots crunching through the powdery surface to the frozen ground below. The faint trail he left behind was swiftly softened by fresh flurries, the relentless wind eager to erase all trace of his passage.
Life beyond the forest was proving far harsher than Kai had imagined. His supplies dwindled faster than he anticipated, and the relentless cold gnawed at his extremities, leaving his fingers and toes numb. Finding shelter from the biting winds seemed an impossible task. Yet, all of this paled in comparison to the unsettling presence he couldn't shake. Something was out there—hidden just beyond the shifting veil of snow, watching, waiting.
Kai had no proof that such an entity existed, but his growing paranoia refused to let him dismiss the possibility. A mirage of movement at the edge of his vision, the crunch of a phantom footstep trailing behind him, a distant roar carried on the wind—each fleeting sensation assaulting his nerves. Was it merely the tricks of the howling winds? He couldn't say, but the uncertainty settled like a weight in his chest, urging him to trudge forward.
Suddenly, a shimmer of light in the distance caught his attention. An orange glimmer, like a stray ember from a dying flame, flashed on the horizon. It drew him in, offering a sliver of hope. Could it be civilization? The thought scarcely had time to settle before something within him twisted—an instinct, a gut feeling that he couldn't explain. A sense of dread gripped his chest, a primal warning that urged him to run. The air seemed to thicken, his feet moved before his mind could process why—he didn't have to question it. Every fiber of his being screamed to flee.
Kai pushed forward, but each step grew heavier as the snow beneath him deepened. Limbs ached, movements sluggish, he was reaching the limit of his already-depleted energy reserves. Hunger twisted insides, and the body begged for rest, yet instinct demanded he run. Despite the urgency thrumming in his chest, swiftness remained elusive. Spira, once a reliable wellspring of energy, refused to respond. Exhaustion had taken its toll, and barely enough spira remained to propel him forward.
He could hear it now, the heavy footfalls of something giving chase. The thought of turning around crossed his mind, chilled fingers reached for his weapon, but the mysterious light was finally coming into sight.
Faint outlines of wood cabins began to emerge, nestled together like a cluster of muted sentinels against the harsh tundra. Each cabin was a compact haven, soft hearthlight spilling from their windows, casting golden halos that seemed to beckon him closer. The village appeared as if it were pulled from a dream—unreal and peaceful, untouched by the storm that raged just beyond its borders.
A low, guttural growl rumbled from behind, its reverberations creeping up Kai's spine like frozen fingers. The crunch of snow grew louder, each step drawing the beast closer. Whatever it was, it was large. Should he draw his sword? The thought flared briefly before he dismissed it—fighting was futile. Every last ounce of his strength now went toward reaching the village. His legs burned and his lungs ached with each strained breath, but the growl behind him spurred him forward. The presence drew nearer, suffocating the air with its menace. With one final surge of will, Kai forced his body to move, praying that the village's safety would be enough to shield him from whatever hunted him.
Suddenly, the ground ahead steepened sharply. It was a blessing in disguise. Kai hunched over, bracing himself with his arms to ease the strain on his legs. He crawled forward using all of his extremities, the incline offered some hope—perhaps it would hinder the beast's pursuit, making it harder to follow. He strained to hear any sign of the creature behind him, but to his surprise, only the wind answered.
He finished climbing the slope and straightened, taking several steps away from the edge. Mustering what little courage he had left, he spun around, scanning the frozen horizon he'd just crossed. The flurries suddenly eased, revealing a wide valley stretching out before him, its vast expanse blanketing the land like an unbroken shroud. The valley seemed like a deep wound in the otherwise unyielding tundra. A frigid gust swept across the desolate landscape, cutting through the hollowed terrain.
It was an unsettling sight, seeing it all now from a distance. Kai realized for the first time that the land he had crossed wasn't as level as he'd believed. The icy ground descended into the valley below, a detail he hadn't noticed in his exhaustion, thinking all along he was navigating flat terrain. Even more unnerving was the absence of any sign of pursuit. The creature, if it had ever existed, was nowhere to be seen. Had it truly vanished, or had his frayed nerves conjured the threat.
The wind surged again, drawing a curtain of snow over the valley and obscuring it from view. A sharp pang in Kai's chest reminded him of his labored, erratic breaths, each one clawing at his lungs like icy talons. The air bit deep, a weight pressing against his chest with every gasp. Forcing himself to regain control, he drew a deliberate breath through his nose, the freezing air stinging as it entered. Slowly, he exhaled, a plume of warmth dissipating into the frigid expanse.
With his breathing steadied, Kai turned his focus back to the village ahead. The raw terror that had gripped him moments ago began to fade, giving way to newfound anxiousness. The thought of warmth and a meal was tantalizing, yet it was overshadowed by the uncertainty of what lay ahead. This would be his first encounter with other humans—an opportunity he had long imagined but now approached with trepidation. Would they see him as different, a product of his sheltered upbringing? Doubts and questions churned in his mind, each one heavier than the last. Still, he pushed them aside and took a step forward, the promise of refuge pulling him onward despite his apprehension. Moving forward, after all, was something he had always excelled at.
The first step into the boundary of the village was a shock to Kai's senses. The blasting gales failed to reach him and the air was noticeably warmer—not enough to melt the surrounding frost, but enough for him to recognize the shift.
Walking through the village was a surreal experience. The architecture and design of the houses stood in stark contrast to those in Vander. These wooden cottages were built with massive, tightly fitted logs, lending them an air of sturdiness and permanence. Many featured second stories, their steep, slanted roofs rising high to shed the weight of the snow. Intricate wooden beams formed decorative patterns along the exteriors, and tiny balconies with ornately carved railings overlooked the paths below. Warm light spilled out from large windows, hinting at cozy, spacious interiors.
Yet something about the cabins felt odd. Kai noticed there weren't any chimneys, even though light clearly emanated from within. Looking closer, unease crept in. The light didn't flicker like firelight, nor did it cast dancing shadows. Instead, it was unwavering, steady, almost unnatural. It reminded him less of a warm hearth and more of the steady glow of daylight inexplicably trapped within these wooden walls.
"What is this place?" Kai murmured under his breath, his voice barely audible over the gentle crunch of snow beneath his boots. The unease twisting in his gut grew stronger with each step.
The more he observed, the less convinced he became that this was a settlement of humanity. Everything about the village felt... off. The unnatural warmth, the steady, unflickering light spilling from its windows, and the perpetual storm raging just beyond its boundary but never crossing into its borders—it all defied the natural order Kai understood.
To him, this secluded hamlet felt like something pulled from the depths of a dream, a fragment of a world unbound by reality. It was supernatural and alien, a puzzle far too vast and strange for his mind to grasp.
The largest building came into view as Kai reached the heart of the village, its imposing size dominating the surroundings. Three stories tall and crafted from the same sturdy logs as the other structures, it exuded an air of authority. The steeply slanted roof soared upward, crowned by a modest belfry. A wide set of double doors stood beneath a weathered wooden sign, its once-intricate carvings blurred by frost and years of exposure. The words, though faintly visible, were too damaged to decipher.
Kai paused, squinting at the sign as a thought shot through his mind: even if it were legible, would he understand their language? And if he encountered people here, would they understand him?
This wasn't just another building to him. Its grand scale and prominent placement suggested significance—perhaps the dwelling of a village elder or chief. He hesitated, torn between curiosity and caution, uncertain if this was a threshold he was ready to cross. In the end, he made his decision.
The heavy wood groaned on its hinges, and a burst of warm air greeted him, carrying the mingled scents of unfamiliar spices, something aromatic he couldn't place and a peculiar sour smell.
The interior was unlike anything Kai had imagined. The high ceiling stretched far above him, crisscrossed with massive wooden beams that seemed to hold the entire structure aloft. Hanging from those beams were strange, shining orbs encased in ornate metal frames. The light they cast was steady and bright, but unnervingly even.
Several tables were scattered across the room, each surrounded by sturdy chairs. A few individuals sat scattered throughout, their attention absorbed in their drinks or hushed conversations. Kai couldn't make out much about them—they seemed indifferent to his presence, lost in their own world.
In the center of the room stood a large, polished counter, its wooden surface gleaming under the glow of the hanging lights. Behind it, shelves lined with bottles and jugs of varying shapes and colors, their contents shimmering faintly. The woman standing behind the counter looked up, her tired eyes flickering with surprise at the sight of the newcomer in the doorway.
"H-hello," Kai stammered, his voice much louder than he had intended. His nerves were taut, the unfamiliar surroundings and the excitement of encountering another person causing his voice to rise in pitch. The sudden sound of his greeting echoed through the room, and he winced, realizing how still the air had been before he'd spoken. Until now, only the woman behind the counter had noticed him, but now everyone was watching. The urge to turn and flee crept into his mind.
"Weel? Dinnae just stan' there, close the door an' come ower here!" the woman barked, her voice deep and thick with a robust accent.
The woman didn't speak exactly like Kai, but a wave of relief washed over him when he realized they were able to communicate. He quickly shut the door behind him. Stepping further into the room, he felt the heat of the tavern settle around him. The other patrons, still seated at their tables, watched him with mild curiosity. He could feel their gaze while he made his way towards the counter, each step feeling heavier under the weight of their silent attention.
The woman behind the counter was a towering figure, easily a head taller than Kai, with a husky build that spoke of strength and endurance. Her frame was solid, though it was hard to gauge just how wide she was under the thick clothing she wore. A furry hat sat atop her head, its edges slightly frayed from use. Her eyes, a piercing shade of blue, intensely watched him.
"Weel, where in the blazes did ye come fae?" she asked, her brow raised high in disbelief.
Kai wasn't sure if she was asking where he came from or what he came for. He considered answering both possible questions, but at that moment, he found himself unsure of what he was supposed to say. He had been on a quest to investigate the strange happenings with the spirits, but would these people even understand?
"Ye awright, lad?" The woman asked, her brow furrowing with concern as she studied him. "Look like yer half frozen. Cannae say I'm surprised, though, wearin' clothes like that oot in this weather."
"My clothes?" Kai said, glancing down at his attire. There were more than a few noticeable holes in his trousers.
"Aye, lad. Those rags are practically fallin' apart, an' filthy, tae boot!" She replied in a tone that was both motherly and blunt.
"Here, son." An older gentleman sitting nearby handed him a massive jacket. "Ye'll catch yer death in those rags. Best dress for the occasion, eh?"
"Oh, thanks." Kai replied, confusion clear on his face. He took the jacket and slipped it on, but the sheer size of it overwhelmed his frame. The hem of the jacket hung past his waist, nearly touching his knees. Kai couldn't help but wonder if this was secretly a village of giants.
"Here, drink this, it'll warm ye right up," the woman declared as she thrust a mug into Kai's hands.
Kai glanced down into the mug warily. The liquid inside was a murky amber color, and the scent immediately hit him—potent and oddly smoky, with a mix of burning wood and something almost bitter. It stung his nostrils. He hesitated, unsure what to expect.
He looked up at the woman hesitantly, but she gave a reassuring nod, as if to say it was safe to drink. Reluctantly, he took a cautious sip. The warmth hit him instantly, but it wasn't the soothing kind. It burned, like a fire running down his throat, leaving an intense burn in its wake. His eyes watered from the strength of it. The taste was bold with a touch of sweetness that struggled to mask the bitterness. It lingered on his tongue, almost metallic, long after he'd swallowed. Nothing like any drink he'd ever had before.
Kai grimaced as he finished swallowing. The flavor was so resolute it seemed to cling to his tongue, lingering long after it had gone down. The once-quiet room erupted into hearty laughter as the patrons watched his reaction. Kai wasn't sure what they found so amusing, but it was hard not to feel like the punchline of their joke.
"Guid job, nae spittin' it oot," the woman said, a smile still tugging at her lips. "I'm Patty, this is ma' tavern. Welcome."
"I'm Kai," he introduced himself, feeling a little less nervous now. He wasn't entirely sure what she meant by 'tavern', but he didn't want to ask any questions that might reveal his lack of knowledge.
Patty looked at him expectantly, as if she was waiting for something more. An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, and Kai couldn't figure out what she wanted.
"Weel?" she prompted, "It's customary tae tell us where ye're frae when ye're in someone else's village. If I was in yer village, I'd introduce maself as Patty Limdal, ye understand?"
Kai didn't quite understand what she meant. In Vander, nobody had two names. Was Limdal the name of this place? He took a moment to piece together what she was saying and what she expected of him. The pause was uncomfortable, but he eventually spoke up, trying his best to follow her lead.
"Sorry, Kai Vander. I didn't mean to be rude." Kai stated, hoping that was the proper response.
"Vander, eh?" Patty mused. "Ne'er heard o' that one afore, but it's nae matter. I was ne'er too good wi' maps, prob'ly just a forgettable wee village like ourselves." She gave him a scrutinizing look. "Where'd ye come from? Wi' them clothes, I'd wager ye came from doon south. Am I right?"
"Nope," Kai shook his head. "I've been travelling along the mountain range from that direction." He pointed towards the valley he had passed through.
"Whit? How did ye cross the river?" Patty asked, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"River?" Kai blinked, clearly confused. "There wasn't a river. I walked here."
"Great, the damn river's froze o'er noo, eh?" one of the patrons grumbled, his voice thick with irritation. "Might as well move elsewheer!"
"Oh, shut yer gob, yer bellyachin' isnae helpin'!" a second patron shouted back.
A few of the patrons suddenly piped up, their voices rising in a flurry of anger and frustration. Kai could barely make sense of the heated words being thrown around, the thick accents and swift exchanges making it difficult to keep up. All he could gather was the sense of unrest in their voices, and the storm that raged outside seemed to have some connection to whatever they were arguing about.
Patty slammed her hands down onto the counter, her voice cutting through the din like a knife. "Enough o' this bletherin'! If ye've got somethin' to say, then say it proper, but don't stand 'ere shoutin' like a bunch o' dogs fightin' over scraps! This storm's not goin' anywhere, an' yer pointless squabblin' won't change a damn thing! So, either pull yer heads outta yer arses and shut it, or go freeze out in the cold, aye?"
The shouting quickly faded into disgruntled muttering and half-hearted apologies, the room settling under Patty's stern gaze. She glared at the patrons with a fire that burned through their grievances until the noise finally died down. Kai stood there awkwardly, feeling the weight of the silence pressing against him. The atmosphere in the room grew tense, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd somehow caused it.
"Dinnae mind them," Patty said, turning her attention back to Kai. She smiled amicably, but Kai could tell she was still agitated. "We've endured this storm for far too long. Between that, the monster, an' noo the river's frozen…" She trailed off, then suddenly fixed Kai with a curious look. "Did… did ye see anythin' oot there?"
Kai felt the weight of every pair of eyes on him once more. He hesitated, "It was hard to make anything out with the snow...," he started slowly, his voice low. He glanced around, sensing the unease in the room. "I didn't see much, but... something was out there."
He braced himself for more shouting, but to his surprise, the room fell eerily silent. The light crackle of the fire seemed to be the only sound as everyone's gaze dropped to their drinks. The murmurs died, replaced by an unsettling stillness. Even Patty, who had been quick with words moments ago, seemed unnerved. For several moments, not a word was spoken. The weight of the unspoken hung heavy in the air.
"It's the Caornoch…" A low whisper from one of the tavern folk broke the silence. The words meant naught to Kai, but he could tell that just the utterance of them seemed to drag the room even deeper into gloom.
"What's that?" Kai blurted out before he could stop himself, his curiosity overtaking his desire to avoid sounding ignorant.
"It's… just a story," Patty said softly, her gaze drifting. "One we were telt as bairns, tae keep us from playin' too near the water wi'oot someone watchin'. Just a daft tale."
"There's nae daft aboot it, Pat!" the man who'd started the argument earlier spat, his voice thick with urgency. "A story cannae crawl oot o' the river, break intae the barn, an' slaughter a dozen cows. Did ye see those tracks? Stop kiddin' yerselves! We need tae leave afore it's too late! We cannae bide here waitin' on the storm nae longer!" He didn't wait for any more argument; the man stood up abruptly and made for the door. But just as he grabbed the handle, the door swung open suddenly as another figure entered the tavern.
The tavern was once again filled with the sounds of the howling wind outside. The patron who had been intent on leaving, instead chose to step aside and take a seat nearby. The stranger entered, his heavy footsteps making the wooden floor creak beneath him as he moved into the light.
The man who entered was short, his scarred face set in a grim expression. His black hair was tied back, a braided beard adding to his rugged appearance, snow still clinging to his hair. His armor was unusual—made of obsidian, reflective scales, with a layer of fur lining the edges. A multitude of tools, daggers, and other items were strapped across his chest or hung from his belt, creating a jangle of metal with every movement. On his back, a large metal contraption was slung, its purpose unclear but undeniably heavy.
"Yer back," Patty said, her voice tinged with surprise. "We'd thought the worst."
"Oh, don't worry about me," the newcomer replied, slamming the door shut with a heavy thud. "Wardens don't go down that easily. Besides, believe it or not, us hunters are pretty good at surviving—we're like cockroaches."
The man strode over to where Patty and Kai stood, his heavy steps making the floorboards groan beneath him. As he drew closer, Kai noticed the deep, jagged scar that marred the man's face, splitting from his chin all the way to his forehead. The old wound had torn through his upper lip, revealing a sliver of teeth even when his mouth was closed. Catching Kai staring, the man offered a casual, friendly wink.
"Didn't know you let kids in here," the scarred man teased, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. "Very progressive."
"I'm not a kid," Kai blurted out indignantly.
"Hah, I guess not," the man chuckled, his eyes flicking to the sword at Kai's side. "You must be passin' through, same as me, then." He extended a hand, a myriad of scars on his knuckles. "Grant Devlon, Warden Second Class."
Kai looked at the outstretched hand, his brow furrowing in confusion. He didn't know what a warden was and the gesture was unfamiliar to him; in Vander, greetings were simpler—a nod, a bow, or even a brief word of acknowledgment. He hesitated, unsure of what was expected, before cautiously extending his own hand, mimicking Grant's posture as best he could. "Kai Vander…" he mumbled.
"Hey, I don't bite," Grant chided with a grin, grabbing Kai's hand in a firm, vigorous shake. The strength of his grip and the rough calluses on his palm spoke volumes about the hard life he'd lived. Kai, unfamiliar with the gesture, made a mental note of the exchange.
"Did ye find the beast?" Patty asked.
"I found evidence of it, but…" Grant paused, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "I can't say for certain, but it seems to be avoiding me. This isn't your typical monster."
"W-Whit d'ye mean?" The man by the door whined. "That's guid, right? It's fair scairt o' ye, 'cause ye're stronger?"
"Not necessarily," Grant replied without turning to face the speaker. He grabbed the drink that Kai had been offered and took a deep gulp. His face immediately twisted into a grimace from the foul taste, and Kai felt bit relieved that he wasn't the only one struggling with it. Grant coughed and pushed the mug away before continuing, "The fact that it's actively avoiding me shows that it's intelligent. But that doesn't mean I'm stronger than it."
"Weel, whit help are ye then?" the man shouted, his voice laced with frustration. Patty opened her mouth, clearly ready to yell back at him, but before she could, the man swiftly yanked the door open and exited the tavern without bothering to close the door behind him. One of the other patrons got up and closed the door instead.
"Please, dinnae mind him," Patty apologized. "Ah know ye're here tae help us, but this storm's been blawin' for months noo, an' Ah'm no sure if we can handle much mair o' this."
"For months?" Grant repeated in surprise. "Is that normal around here?"
"Naw, o' course no. Ah've lived here aw ma life, an' we've never had weather like this afore," Patty lamented. "Each day it's gettin' mair fierce. If it wisnae for Fergus, we'd hae froze ower by noo."
"Fergus? Oh, you mentioned him before," Grant said, rubbing his eyes with a weary sigh. "The warden from the research division, right? I have to admit, it was a shock seeing how well-lit and warm this place is when I arrived a few days ago. Leave it to a bookworm to bring the thaumaturgic revolution back to his hometown."
Kai stood quietly, trying to follow the conversation, but the words flew past him like leaves in a storm. Thaumaturgy? Research division? Wardens? Even the term 'bookworm' left him puzzled. He shifted uncomfortably, whatever they were talking about, it was clear he was out of his depth.
"Aye, Fergus is a guid man," One of the patrons called out. "Ah wasnae too keen on thae mechanical contraptions, but Pat's right—we couldnae hae bided this storm wi'oot em'."
"We're worried aboot him," Patty said sadly. "He hasnae been back tae town tae get supplies in quite some time noo."
"He doesn't stay in town?" Grant asked.
"Naw, he set up his ain workshop in the caves up north," Patty said.
Kai hesitated for a moment before speaking up, his voice steady despite his uncertainty. "I could go check on him," he offered. It wasn't just a sense of gratitude for their hospitality that drove him; Kai felt an undeniable pull to learn more about the world—and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to do so while helping those in need.
The room fell silent, and all eyes turned toward Kai. For a moment, it seemed as though the tavern folk had forgotten he was even there, overshadowed by the weight of their collective despair.
"Hah, what a man," Grant chuckled, slapping Kai square on the back.
"Are ye sure?" Patty asked, concern etched deep on her face. "The weather's only gettin' worse, an' the Caer—" She stopped herself, swallowing the name as if saying it might summon the creature. "...that beast is still prowlin' aboot out there."
Several of the older townsfolk immediately began to murmur in protest, their voices a mix of worry and urgency. Shaking heads and furrowed brows conveyed their disapproval as a few leaned forward in their chairs, gesturing toward the windows where the storm howled outside. They spoke over one another, pointing out the dangers of the frozen river, the worsening blizzard, and the lurking beast. Their collective tone, though varied in pitch, carried the same sentiment—this was no task for someone so young and unfamiliar with their plight.
"Shut up!" Grant bellowed, his voice cutting through the squabble like a blade. He bared his teeth in frustration, silencing the room as his eyes scanned the faces of the gathered denizens. "He's not a kid—he said it himself just a moment ago! Take a good look at him." Grant thrust his meaty hand in Kai's direction, his tone unyielding.
"When was the last time any of you stepped foot outside Limdal?" he continued, his voice dripping with derision. "The temperatures out there are deadly, dropping lower as we speak. I practically have frostbite, and this is with cold weather gear!"
"Whit's yer point?" Patty snapped.
"Kai here not only traveled through the storm half-naked, but he still has all his fingers and toes," Grant declared with exaggerated flair, gesturing dramatically. Kai pulled the borrowed jacket tighter around himself, his face flushing with embarrassment.
"None of you thought it strange?" Grant continued. "He's obviously got some sort of survival skill set—or maybe even special artes—for dealing with this wintery storm. You don't just wander around out there and make it here unscathed by sheer luck."
Kai looked down uncomfortably as Grant spoke. Survival skills? Special artes? He didn't even know what 'artes' meant, let alone how he might possess them. As far as he was concerned, he hadn't done anything remarkable—just endured the cold like anyone else would. But the way the others were looking at him now, made him feel like he'd been caught in a lie he didn't even tell.
"That may be so," Patty said speculatively as she peered at Kai. "But Ah cannae in guid faith let him go back oot there wi'oot better clothing... an' he needs a good night's rest as weel!"
Kai sat on the bed, the warmth of the thick blankets comforting him in a way he hadn't experienced since he left home. The room was dimly lit by a soft glow coming from a contraption on the table beside him. He tried to inspect it out of curiosity, but the light gave off no hint of its inner workings. It was just a simple illumination, almost comforting, yet foreign to him. He wondered how the villagers slept with such a bright light right next to where they rested.
His gaze shifted to the chair next to the bed, where a pile of bulky, hand-me-down clothes were folded neatly—several mismatched shirts and pants, gifts from the villagers. This place was very different from Vander. The folk here were far more emotional and boisterous compared to what he was used to. But at the same time, there was a strange sense of familiarity. The people were warm in their own way, even if it was sometimes overwhelming. They cared for each other, despite the harsh conditions and the fears that loomed over them. It was a different sort of community than the one he'd known, but in the end, it was still a community that watched out for its own.
"We're not so different," Kai murmured, pulling his charm out and looked at the smooth, violet orb.
Kai lay back against the pillows, his fingers tracing the surface of the memento. He closed his eyes. The warmth of the blankets cocooned him in a strange sense of peace. With his eyes closed, the light somewhat reminded him of the wyrmwood trees back home. Despite the chaos of the day, the uncertainty about his path, and the unfamiliarity of this place, something within him felt rooted. The villagers had shown him kindness, and in return, he felt a subdued resolve growing within him. They were people trying to survive, just like the people of Vander. And despite their differences, they shared the same desires for safety, warmth, and connection. Would helping them bring him closer towards his goal or was he wasting precious time?