I wished it had all been a dream, just like before. I could hear cries for help—our neighbors, my friends, even Cedric. They grabbed me tightly by the collar, as if they wanted revenge. I was surrounded by dozens of people.
Just then, a beam of sunlight shone into the tree hollow and slowly woke me up. When I opened my eyes, the first thing I thought of was Cedric. Did he make it? Even before all this, he was always a coward. I saw the fear in his eyes when he offered to sacrifice himself. He didn't want to die—just like me.
I crawled out of the hollow and moved carefully for five minutes. Once I was sure the area was safe, I stood up. I made my way through the bushes and headed straight to the rocks where I had told Cedric to hide.
I was still looking for Cedric when the Hellmaw appeared. I dashed behind a rock in an instant. My heart was pounding so loud I could barely breathe. I could hear that monster's growling with every step it took. If it sniffed me once, there'd be no way to escape. I had survived last night purely by luck.
I sat there hopelessly, waiting for my fate—until a gazelle suddenly ran past, and the Hellmaw chased after it. I collapsed with relief and breathed as if it was my first breath in days.
I couldn't find Cedric—or any sign of him. He wasn't there. I hoped he had managed to survive. But where could he have gone? Was he kidnapped? Or worse? These questions kept torturing my mind as I walked toward the village.
The houses were burned. The places where we used to play were gone. I felt a terrible curiosity about what had happened to our home. I approached the ruins and searched for anything that had survived the destruction.
I started with the living room. That was the place where we gathered as a family, where my father used to tell his stories. Then I moved to the kitchen, where my mother cooked her delicious meals.
I went upstairs and entered the guest room. Sometimes Uncle Sam would stay here, or other visitors. And finally, I stepped into our room—mine and Cedric's. We used to talk there at night when we couldn't sleep. It was also our playground. I always played the villain, and Cedric would be the brave hero who defeated me.
I cried for a long time. There was no more "our" room. No Cedric. No anything.
I decided to take anything that might help me survive. I searched my parents' room and found a dagger with red and green tulip embroidery on the sheath. I left the house behind—along with all the memories.
Did I miss something? Was there anything useful left in the village? I searched more and then saw it—my father's dismembered body. His eyes were still open. I gently closed them.
I hugged him tightly and screamed as I cried. I regretted ever calling my father a liar. I always thought he was useless. I regretted every word. He gave his life for his children.
Why did it have to end like this? I would do anything just to hear his voice again.
I carried my father behind our ruined house and made a grave for him and Uncle Sam—as best as I could.
Now I had two paths ahead of me:
I could go west and stay in Valdoria, or head to Arkenwald.
As I walked away, I saw a carriage approaching with a few men inside. I ran in front of it, and the driver stopped.
"Who the hell are you?" he asked.
"I'm no one," I replied. "Just a kid who wants to come with you."
The man stared at me suspiciously. "Come with us? Are you alone, or trying to trick us? I'll let you in on one condition—give me your weapon if you have one, and pay 10 silver."
My mind snapped. "Are you kidding me? I'm just a ten-year-old kid! How would I have 10 silvers? I was a farmer—we didn't earn much!"
The man shrugged. "Suit yourself. We're not forcing you."
At that point, an old man interrupted us. He chuckled and said, "That's enough, Bertram. I'll pay for him."
"Whatever, you old fool," the driver grumbled.
I climbed into the carriage and asked, "Where are we going, Grandpa?"
"Am I that old, huh?" the man laughed. "Just kidding, kid. I'm Gerald. These guys here are Otto, Ralph, and Wilfred. Otto loves beer and potatoes. Ralph doesn't talk much, but his swords are among the top ten in all of Valdoria. And Wilfred... he's just Wilfred. He's a merchant."
"I wasn't asking about you, old man," I said. "I asked where we're going."
"Oh, right," Gerald chuckled. "It slipped my mind. We're headed to Arkenwald—the only place where three races can live together."
Arkenwald, huh? I thought to myself. My father had told me stories about it.
As I drifted into my thoughts, Gerald said, "Oh, and by the way—I'm Gerald the Mage."
I laughed. "If you're a mage, then I'm the king of Valdoria."
"Believe it or not, kid—that's the truth," he said.
My father once spoke about magic, but we never believed him. Just like everything else.
Gerald grinned. "Now it's your turn to talk, kiddo."
I didn't want to share anything, but he had paid for me. So along the way, I told him everything I knew.
Night fell, and I was sleeping when I heard a noise—goblins had surrounded us.
The driver yelled, "Gerald, take care of them!"
Gerald stepped outside and calmly said, "Fire."
He set the goblins ablaze.
I couldn't believe it. How could a human do that? Magic was real?
He defeated all of them by himself, and we continued on our way.
The next day, we finally reached the capital of Arkenwald—Ironhaven. We passed through the gates and entered the city.
Gerald and the others (I had already forgotten their names) got off the carriage.
Gerald turned to me one last time. "Be careful, kiddo. Anything can happen in the cities."
I nodded and thanked him. Then I said my farewell.