Nineteen years old. The morning sun fell warm on Liam's face as the entire village gathered to send off him and Tomlin. It was his birthday, and also the day they would leave home to become hunters. The celebration was modest but heartfelt—tables with bread, cheese, and fruit, a few ribbons fluttering, and dozens of well-wishers offering hugs and cheers. Elder Marta said a few words about how proud they were of the young men. The crowd applauded and called out for the duo to stay safe and write often.
Standing at the center with Tomlin, Liam felt overwhelmed by the outpouring of support. His mother hovered, straightening his collar and wiping at her eyes. His father stepped forward carrying a long object wrapped in cloth.
Unwrapping it, his father revealed a simple sword in a plain leather scabbard. The steel blade and hilt gleamed dully in the light. He held it out to Liam. "We all pitched in for this," his father said quietly. "Not fancy, but strong. May it serve you well."
Hands trembling slightly, Liam took the sword. It was solid and well-balanced, clearly the work of their local smith. Emotion tightened his throat. "Thank you... for everything," he managed to say, looking at his father and then around at the villagers.
His father pulled him into a fierce hug, then stepped back with a proud nod. Nearby, Tomlin's parents were embracing their son in turn, pressing a few last-minute tips and a lot of love upon him. Tomlin hefted his sword and pack, ready to go but red-eyed from emotion.
Just then, Liam's eight-year-old sister Kara tugged on his sleeve. "Liam, kneel down!" she insisted. He obeyed, dropping to one knee so she could reach. From behind her back, Kara produced a small white flower, freshly picked from the meadow. With great care, she tucked the blossom into a buttonhole on Liam's cloak.
"So you remember spring even when you're fighting monsters," she said seriously, repeating the line she had practiced.
Liam's eyes burned with held-back tears. He scooped Kara into a hug, lifting her up as she clung to his neck. "I'll remember," he whispered. "Thank you, little sister."
She sniffled and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before he set her down, both of them trying to smile.
At last, the moment of departure arrived. Liam slung his pack over his shoulder and fastened his new sword at his hip. Tomlin adjusted his own pack and weapon. The two friends took a final look at the faces of the people they loved.
Their families walked with them to the village's edge for one more round of tight hugs and tearful goodbyes. Laughter mixed with sobs as villagers shouted final encouragements—telling them to come back as heroes and not to forget to write. Tomlin turned and hollered with a grin, "We'll be back before you know it, with plenty of stories!" His quip earned a round of fond laughter, easing some of the sadness.
At the old wooden signpost marking the boundary, Liam and Tomlin turned one last time and simply raised their hands in farewell. No words were needed; the villagers waved back, smiles shining through their tears.
Then the two young men faced forward and stepped onto the open road.
Side by side, they set off down the dirt path leading out of the valley. The morning light stretched their shadows long behind them, as if the village itself reached after them in goodbye. Liam's heart pounded with a mix of excitement and nerves. He glanced at Tomlin, who met his eyes and gave a resolute nod.
They walked in companionable silence for a while, listening to the crunch of their boots on gravel. Unspoken worries traveled with them: Liam about the whispers that haunted him, Tomlin about proving himself. But neither voiced those fears.
The world ahead was vast and unknown, full of monsters to face and trials to overcome. They didn't know what adventures awaited beyond the next hill. But they knew one thing for certain: they would face whatever came together.
With steady steps, Liam and Tomlin embarked on the road to their future. Carrying the strength of home and the loyalty of their bond, they walked toward the promise of spring even in the darkest places, ready to begin their legend.