The sun rose above the horizon, its light heralding the beginning of a new day for the village of Branvar.
A small village, encircled by towering mountains, veiled in morning mist, and caressed by a cold climate that accompanied the villagers every dawn.
Branvar was a remote settlement, far removed from the great cities—the nearest one was a week's ride on horseback—yet it remained self-sufficient.
A village sustained by fishing and farming.
The men stepped out of their homes, smiling and ready to tend to the fields as they did every day, while their wives and children waved them off with warm smiles.
The women went about their daily chores, and the children ran off to play, as the elders of the village made their way to the tavern to eat and chat.
In a small house near the outskirts of the village, a door creaked open, revealing a man clad in black. His hair, dark as the night, cascaded down his back; his skin was pale, almost sickly, and his expression serene yet distant.
But what truly mesmerized were his eyes—beautiful, captivating silver-gray eyes that could tempt any soul to lose themselves within.
The man crossed the threshold, locking the door behind him before walking down the street with a clear purpose in mind. Along the way, he crossed paths with several villagers who greeted him with cheerful smiles.
"Good morning, Lord Eresh. How did you wake today?" a simple-looking woman greeted him, carrying a basket of laundry toward the river.
The man, Eresh, returned her greeting with a gentle smile. Every morning she greeted him—it had become something of a routine between them.
"Good morning, Miss Mary. It's a beautiful day today."
After walking several more paces, Eresh was stopped by a group of children playing in a park by the street.
"Good morning, Eresh! Will you play with us?" called out a girl no older than seven, her blonde hair tied in bows and her dress adorned with rose frills.
"Yes, Eresh! Come play with us. The last time we played was two days ago," said another boy, who appeared to be slightly older than the girl with braids.
Eresh smiled at the children and set down his umbrella before crouching to ruffle their hair.
"Lyla, Damian, I can't play with you right now, but this afternoon, once I've finished my errands, I promise we'll play together. How does that sound?" he said, keeping the smile on his face.
His voice was soft, like a melody that brought peace and serenity regardless of circumstances. It was a voice that comforted the village children, earning both their trust and that of their parents—so much so that they often left their children in his care when he was free.
Though Lyla and Damian pouted at first, they lit up at the promise of an afternoon game and, satisfied, hugged Eresh before running back to the park.
Eresh smiled, shaking his head gently. With the echoes of the children's laughter behind him, he resumed his path toward the village inn, its smoking roof rising like a beacon for the early risers.
—
Eresh advanced along the cobbled street, his steps echoing with familiarity. His mind drifted, recalling how many lives he had silently witnessed pass by.
His eyes swept across the stone and wooden houses, breathing in the crisp morning air. Soon, the familiar scent of freshly baked bread mingled with the aroma of food wafting from the inn.
Eresh gazed at the weathered sign swinging above the door—The Kitchen of Peace—and pushed the door open, drawing the attention of the patrons inside.
He regarded them calmly as he entered.
"Good morning. I hope it will be a productive day for all," he greeted with a polite nod.
The patrons responded with words or nods of their own before returning to their meals and conversations.
Eresh, for his part, made his way to a table tucked into a corner—the one he always chose—rested his umbrella against the wall, and waited to be served.
He did not have to wait long. Soon, a slender young woman approached with a bright smile. Her light brown hair and sky-blue eyes complemented the simple white dress she wore.
"Lovely morning, Eresh. How was your night?" she asked, her gaze lingering on him.
"Ana," Eresh greeted her with a smile and a nod. "I slept well, as always," he replied, watching her set the table.
"I'm glad to hear that, haha. Will it be the usual?"
Eresh answered with a slight nod. After a few minutes, Ana returned carrying a cup, a teapot, and a plate of food. She set them down one by one and began pouring from the teapot.
A rich chocolate-colored liquid streamed into the cup, and a strong aroma of coffee filled Eresh's senses. The meal was simple.
"Two fried eggs, cheese, and bread—with your cup of coffee. As always," Ana said, smiling warmly.
"No one makes coffee like you, Ana. Will you be attending your herbalism classes with Miss Wyn today?" Eresh asked as he took a sip from the cup.
"Of course! I'm the best at making coffee, haha. And yes, I have to go—today is my exam. If I pass, Grandma Wyn will let me forage for herbs on my own," Ana replied, her voice brimming with excitement at the prospect.
Eresh nodded. "You'll do well. You'll be the best herbalist in the village—perhaps even surpassing Miss Wyn."
"I hope so, Eresh. Well, I need to get going. Take care," Ana said as she turned to attend to newly arrived customers.
Eresh watched her walk away and let out a quiet sigh. His gaze lingered on his coffee cup for a while, lost in thought, until the sound of breaking porcelain snapped him back.
Turning toward the source of the noise, Eresh saw an unfamiliar man scolding Ana.
"You damn girl! Look what you've done—this suit was new, and you've ruined it with your incompetence!" shouted the man, who appeared to be at least thirty-five years old.
He looked like a typical thug, and just as he was about to raise a hand against Ana, a broad-shouldered, gray-haired man with a trimmed beard caught his arm.
"Raising your hand against a young lady over a simple mistake… The one who deserves punishment here is you, sir," the older man said, his voice firm and seasoned with experience.
The rough man grew even angrier at being interrupted and drew the sword from his belt with his free hand, stepping away from the gray-haired man.
"And who the hell are you, old man? Don't you know who I am? I'm Ivyr, brother of the leader of the Skullbreakers gang. Do you have a death wish?"
The older man ignored Ivyr's words. Before Ivyr could react, he effortlessly disarmed him, threw him to the ground, and flung his sword far out of reach.
"I don't care who your brother is. This is a peaceful village, a place that thrives in harmony—and you came to disrupt it with your pointless brawling. I'll escort you out of town, and I hope to never see you again."
Applause began to echo through the tavern as the patrons laughed and clapped at the scene.
"Well done, Aldrik!" / "Still not rusty after all these years, haha!"
The older man, Aldrik, smiled at the crowd's words and left the inn, hauling Ivyr away.
All of this had been silently observed by Eresh, who kept his gaze fixed on Ivyr until the man disappeared from sight. Only then did he return to his meal and take his first bite.