Only four villagers died from the war, and their sacrifices were celebrated by the rest of the village that night. Their families mourned for them, while the rest of the village would see to their cremation and burial later that day. Cyrus would be present for everything, wanting to personally honour the sacrifices of those men, as he felt somewhat responsible for their deaths. Though the village had survived the attack, the roofs of most of the houses were severely damaged, and in a few houses, the roofs had completely collapsed inwards, and it was a mess. So a lot of families had gone to work, putting things in place as much as they could so they could at least sleep comfortably that night. They were grateful that the attack did not occur during the rainy season or on winter. The younger children were at the battlefield, harvesting as many weapons and armour as they could find from the corpses of their enemies under strict supervision of the older children. After a short momen
It was the next morning, and Cyrus was preparing his things to leave later that day. Felix had gone to open the tavern, but not for business, but rather to put things in final order. He was ready to tender his resignation, but wanted to do it on the most respectful way possible. Cyrus had gone back to his room at the Inn to pack his things as well. When he came out, he dropped the right amount of coins at the table before Felix while they had discussed the total amount of money owed to the tavern's owner last night. To make sure no customer got the wrong idea, Felix had kept the widows shut and left the door ajar. He prayed his boss would return soon enough, as his conscience wouldn't let him rest if he leaves without properly setting things right. He was the only person Felix wanted to see right now, as he had decided not to serve any customer today. Cyrus had now come out with all of his things in place, dressed in his full armour and cloak. He separated the right amount of silve
At about that time, Felix was at the back of his house seated next to his mother's grave. He took a cup of mead and poured half on it on the heaped soil. "I know you've never been a fan of mead", Felix said. "But you promised to drink it with me someday." Then he wiped a tear from his eye. "I am leaving the village", Felix said. "With Cyrus. Just as you told me, I do have a royal relative - though he is a lot different compared to what you made him out to be. It seems you three share the same strange silver hair everyone talks about. Fortunately, I got my father's brown hair instead. Though I never met his mother, the one you spoke the most about - the characteristics you said she had, I found all of them in her son. He is selfless, brave and stupidly naive - Everything you said your sister was as a young woman. Though he isn't a coward like I am, he still needs me - At least, he says so, but I'm yet to find out how." Then he took a few gulps of the drink before pouring the left
Richard, with his father's permission, took two of his horses from the barn of Julius, the farmer who lived close to the entrance of the village. He gave one of them to his friend, Felix, who was delighted to have a horse of his own. "Thank you," he said, turning back to the chief and giving a bow of respect. Then the trio all got on their horses, ready to leave the village. Richard and Felix saw this as a great time for Cyrus to leave the villagers with a word of encouragement, or at least a motivational speech of some kind. But instead, he spun around with his horse suddenly and rode off, leaving the other two looking dumbfounded. "Well, what are you both waiting for?" asked Frederick. "Aren't you supposed to be following him?" You both were fine with leaving earlier than this, weren't you? Don't get all mushy with us now! The duo smiled, and like Cyrus, they spun around and rode off without looking back. While the others cheered, Frederick and his wife looked grim amid their smil
Not too far from the Sargath village was Fayhold, a town three days' ride from the city's walls. It was the first proper stop from which one would no longer be able to see the mighty walls of Griffindale's Capital City, even though it was built on a tall hill. Cyrus, Felix, and Richard were riding on their way there, and the chief's son was quoting from a recent book he had read a few times about the areas around Griffindale. Particularly, about Fayhold. "It was an independent town, free from all rulership from external forces until quite recently, when they were captured and made a client region under the wing of Emperor Athanasius, ruler of the Midlands" he said in an assured tone. "How sure are you that is the case?" Felix asked him. "How did you even get access to such information to begin with?" "Well, my father had his sources from within the city walls, though he hardly read from them at all," Richard replied. "But I can assure you that it is up to date. What I just quoted
After another long day of walking and riding, the trio could finally catch a glimpse of their destination from the Highlands. Seeing the town from afar just the way it was drawn in the map gave them the hope that Richard was right all along. Although there seemed to be some inconsistencies, it was most likely because of recent developments between when the source the map was drawn and the current day. Right before the town was another large forest, where they would hopefully be able to arrive at and set up camp, as the sun was already setting. But it seemed a bit too far, and they worried their horses would get too exhausted while trying to get there before nightfall. Nothing much had changed within the few years of Richard's knowledge, and with great excitement, the trio rode down the hill, letting go of all worries as they headed for Fayhold. It seemed their horses shared the same excitement, as they showed little sign of exhaustion after running several miles, with Ceres seemi
The men's armor only consisted of the breast plate, cauldron, and gauntlet, and each of the men was armed with shields and spears. "Who are you?" one asked. Before the others could figure out what to say, Cyrus spoke up. "We are travelers," he said. "We came here to see someone and spend some time with him." "Who is that person?" he asked. "Kendrick Thorrington," Richard said. The moment he said that, the guards were all on edge, looking at the trio like they were real threats. "What is your business with him?" one of the soldiers asked. Cyrus looked at the others and almost smiled. Frederick was right in his assumption that his brother, Kendrick, was now a person of influence. If he wasn't, the guards wouldn't have been on defense when they heard his name. But he still wasn't sure what kind of influencer Kendrick was. As far as they knew, Kendrick could be a criminal who may have caused so much trouble that anyone affiliated with him could have been seen as a threat. "D
The first rebel, an archer, shot his arrow, aiming at Lucius, but right before he could shoot it, he felt an arrow lodge itself into his chest. The rebel looked in shock at Richard, who had pulled out an arrow and fired so quickly that he didn't notice. The rebel behind Richard was about to attack, but the chief's son instinctively ducked and kicked, putting an arrow through his hip, causing the rebel to scream out in pain. The other rebels had begun attacking the other two—Cyrus and Lucius—who had begun fighting side by side by default, both being great swordsmen. Richard noticed Felix and cried out to him to get on one of the horses and ride away. "We will catch up with you soon!" Richard cried out. "But don't get too far!" He also signaled for the other horses to follow as well, lest harm come to them in the fight. With those instructions, Felix got on the horse and began galloping away, and as he was moving, two archers readied their bows, ready to fire at the unsuspecting rid