Marilyn froze when she saw Ryan.
For half a heartbeat she only stared—then she crossed the distance and pulled him into her arms with a force that surprised them both.
"Ryan…" Her voice broke. "You're alive."
Her grip trembled as though letting go might make him vanish. Ryan stiffened at first, then melted into the embrace, his face turning away, jaw tight.
Marilyn's gaze lifted over his shoulder—finding Randell.
He shook his head.
The smallest motion.
It was enough.
Her arms loosened. Her breath caught. "Where's your sister… and your grandmother?" The question barely survived her lips.
Ryan swallowed. His eyes dropped to the dirt.
"Grandma didn't make it."
The words landed and stayed.
Marilyn covered her mouth, shoulders hitching as she fought the sound trying to escape her.
Randell's fists clenched until his knuckles blanched, nails biting into skin. No one moved. No one spoke.
"I'm sorry," Marilyn whispered finally—not to Ryan, but to the air. To the dead. To herself.
She straightened, forcing composure like armor.
"Where's Mirai?"
Ryan hesitated. "Inside the coach. Fever's still high."
That was enough.
Marilyn nodded once and walked past him, resting her hand briefly on his shoulder—a wordless promise—before disappearing into the shadows between wagons.
Silence returned.
Thick. Awkward. Heavy with everything they hadn't said.
Randell broke it gently. "I'm sorry about your grandma."
Ryan's breath hitched. He wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand. "You don't have to be. Nobody could've stopped it."
He tried to smile. It didn't quite work.
Randell studied him for a moment—then glanced around. The plain stretched empty in every direction.
Too open.
Too exposed.
"So," he said quietly, "why did we stop here?"
Ryan huffed—a short, humorless sound. "You seriously don't know?"
Randell frowned. "Know what?"
Ryan tilted his head. "We used to hunt out here every other day. Before the prohibition."
Randell blinked. "You weren't even there when that happened."
Ryan's mouth twitched. "A black cat with ruby eyes told me yesterday."
Deadpan.
Randell stared—then barked out a laugh, sudden and unguarded. "Of course. Cyan."
He shook his head, smiling despite himself.
"Always everywhere. Always stirring trouble."
Ryan laughed too—quiet, tired, real. "Yeah. That's him."
The moment passed, fragile but necessary.
Then Ryan's expression sobered. "I'm sorry I left before the report."
Randell slung an arm around his shoulders. "You chose Mirai. That's the right call."
Ryan snorted. "Calling it a report feels generous."
Randell scanned the horizon again. "Still didn't answer my question."
Ryan's lips curved faintly. "You really haven't figured it out?"
Randell exhaled. "Nope."
Ryan closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them, the humor was gone—replaced by something steadier.
"It was my order."
Randell stiffened. His arm slipped from Ryan's shoulders.
"Your order?"
Ryan nodded once.
Around them, the survivors murmured quietly, tending wounds, clutching each other, trying to remember how to breathe in a world that had burned.
Randell spoke.
"Since when are you giving order"
"Look around you" Ryan spoke.
Around them, the survivors murmured quietly,
Randell final surveyed his bearings then everything finally made sense.
Why they stopped.
Why Ryan thought it was a good idea.
"Truth be told I just suggested, Old man Ryker was the one whom gave the order" Ryan said.
His voice low and calmed.
Too calm.
"I see... I thought I was going mad after hearing that"
Randell responded.
Voice low.
An owl hooted.
Twice.
"Shit for real?" Ryan added.
Randell dodged. After noticing Ryker standing behind Ryan.
"How about we help the others"
"Hmmh.... Sure?"
Time passed by.
Randell and Ryan helped out the other survivers by dressing their wounds, helping them walk, raising tents.
It became a settlement.
Divided into 3 division's.
First division was prepared for those with life threatening and severe wounds.
Lost parts of their limps.
Larger wounds considered life threatening.
Numbers ranging Into 50's.
Second division for those with the least wounds, less life threatening.
Scratches.
Burns.
Mentally unstable (Trauma).
And third for those whom were perfectly healthy
Few scratches.
Cuts.
Perfectly fine.
Marilin, Ryker and Lyriel prepared a meeting for all the people in third division, someone had to say something, the time had come.
A campfire was created, Marilin attended to miria as the others gathered, They were all busy helping out.
People gathered.
Man.
Women.
No children were allowed to participate.
Only Two were an exception.
Time passed, everyone settled around the huge campfire.
The fire burned with pulse.
People murmured.
Some whispered.
The people whom led the village as elders took on the spotlight. Ryker, Marilyn and Lyriel.
Stood firmly in the center.
The fire, A perfect spot light.
But—
One was missing.
People whispered.
But none said a word out loud.
Ryan's expression fell .
The wind moved gently, ripping away leaves from their branches.
The leaves fell with lenient and landed with grace.
Ryker's gaze met Randell's.
He shook his head.
A signal.
Randell stood and headed into the spotlight, along side were the chiefs stood. Ryker pressed his palm against randell's right shoulder.
"We decided you should give the speech"
voice low, calm and deliberate.
"What? Why me" Randell whispered.
"We have our reasons. I will personally fill you in later. Can you do it?" Ryker responded.
Randell looked around.
Eyes on them.
Everyone firmly seated on the cold unforgiving ground.
He then turned his head back at Ryker.
Expression serious.
"you kidding right. What do I know, I am just ten"
Rykers eye contact never wavered, up close his face clearly had Beard remains after a good shave.
" it's freaky but You already know plenty. You, Aris and Ryan rescued most of these people admist the Carnage, I am they will listen"
" Will They?" He thought.
Randell switched his gaze at Ryan, the expression he saw him wearing, seemed like someone who'd just walked into a horror movie. Eyes wide open.
Randell's eyes widened.
He looked down to the ground.
Expression skeptical.
"Fine, I'll do it"
He said, voice low.
Calm.
He was given a role to restore hope by the elders and he complied, the fire lit their Brocken expression.
A prosperous moment.
Silence.
"Can I really do it..... I doubt it—" he thought.
He turned his head towards Marilin.
She shook her head.
He breathed in.
"Sigh"
He breathed out.
The breath carried off with the wind, the warmth in his mouth dispersed outwards.
Then he spoke.
The wind seemed to whisper a distant harmony as it delivered his words to their ears.
"Look around you"
He said.
He surveyed their Brocken faces.
Voice— very young.
The words terrifying considering coming from the mouth of a boy.
"This plain ground is what we need, It's very green, which shows it's abundant for agriculture. A river nearby With clean fresh water. Including a nearby forest for hunting."
His voice was filled with conviction.
words painted a picture of a new beginning.
The survivors exchanged glances.
The crowd only made of women and Men.
faces etched with mixed expression's of emotions.
Different from the last.
Some nodded in agreement, eyes shining with hope.
others looked uncertain.
Faces pale with fear.
The sound of whispered conversations filled the air, as they debated the merits of Randell's proposal.
The council members on the other hand.
Stood and listenined.
Not sure of what he might and might not say.
"My point is, let's just make this place our new home."
Randell added, his voice filled with a quiet determination.
All three chiefs.
Ryker, Marilin and Lyriel
All looked at each other.
"Are you sure this is a good idea Marilin?"
Lyriel whispered.
"Hmmh. don't look at me I didn't tell him to say That"
Marilin replied.
" Then what tha hell is he sayin—" Lyriel spoke silently.
Voice low.
Demanded answers.
A bit annoyed.
"Shhh" Ryker interrupted
The survivors murmured among themselves, their voices, their faces a mixture of hope and fear. The night air was heavy with tension, as they weighed their options, their futures hanging precariously in the balance.
The murmurs grew louder.
Randell's eyes locked onto Ryan's.
A spark of determination igniting within him. He knew that they had to make a decision, and soon, if they were to survive in this harsh, unforgiving world.
"I know what you're thinking right now. Why are we listening to a boy. why choose here of all places? I too know just how bizarre this may sound Considering what you've been through" he yelled.
Then paused.
expression etched with a mix of desperation.
Determination.
The fire cast a warm glow on his face, illuminating the deep lines of worry etched on his forehead.
He continued.
"Being a child may undermine my words but after what happened yesterday I swear I am as sobber as one of you. Grown ups"
He paused.
The elders of the council just listened.
Not like they could stop him anyway. Right😂
He continued.
"To some I may be a child speaking absolute nonsense, to some of you, its a waste of time, but I'm speaking from my heart, and saying what I believe is right. Not as a child but a hunter,"
He spoke.
Voice cracking with emotion.
He paused.
eyes surveying the faces of the Ranon's, his gaze lingering on the weary.
The worried, and the hopeful.
The night air was heavy with the scent of smoke and sweat, a potent reminder of their vulnerability.
He spoke.
The wind whispered through the trees, a mournful sigh that seemed to echo the survivors' fears.
Randell's words were a balm to their wounded souls, a reminder that they were not alone. His eyes locked onto the faces of the survivors, his gaze burning with a quiet intensity.
"Someone once told me that running away doesn't solve anything."
He paused.
"Yes , at first, it might seem like the only option, but when you decide to take the path, you'll run away until it's over and that's the future I will never allow, being a child that I am. I will not allow a future where everyone here n
Becomes refugees to other countries!!."
His voice rose.
words dripping with a quiet passion.
"Think about it, do you want your children to be viewed as refugees and beggars while you live in the pity of a foreign lord? Or will you make this place our new home, and I say, you'll fight for it, if push comes to shove."
A prosperous pause.
"This time, we'll learn and prepare for any attack, so that what happened yesterday won't happen e again, we will place stronger foundations, increase defences and create a new home stronger, steadier and mostly home warming just like our previous one."
His voice raised, then fell at the end.
"Uh spikey, are you sure you raised kids?" Ryker spoke.
A whisper.
"Don't call me that— You tell me. I too have never seen this side of him" Marilin whispered.
"Are you kidding, he's your so—"
"Shhhh" Lyriel interrupted.
Randell continued.
The night wind moved.
He's hair calmly submitting to the breeze.
He stood in the spotlight, every one's attention focused on a ten year old child with content.
The fire cast a warm glow on his face, illuminating the determination etched on his features.
Randell continued.
Voice raised
"I won't force anyone to stay, but if you do decide to stay, I promise you that together, we'll find a way to survive, to thrive. We'll make a new home, a new life."
He slightly paused.
"We'll make sure that the sacrifices of our beloved comrade's wont go in vain, and live on for their sake's,"
Randell spoke.
His voice filled with a quiet conviction.
He raised his hand. as if he was offering it to the villagers.
The survivors began to stir, their faces set in determined expressions.
They nodded.
Voices rising in a murmur of agreement.
Some just stared.
Eyes of disdain.
The fire seemed to burn brighter, casting a warm glow over the faces of the survivors, as if it too was buoyed by Randell's words.
Ryan's eyes met Randell's.
A hint of a smile on his face.
Expression a mix of admiration and gratitude.
He nodded, his expression serious, his eyes shining with tears.
"We'll do this together," he said, his voice firm, his
words a promise, a vow to stand together, no matter what lay ahead.
" Now for the moment of truth. If you feel like this meeting was a waste of time, expecially listening to a child stand up and leave. No one will be forced to co–operate and If you do give me a good cheer!!!!."
He yelled on top of his lungs.
But no body cheered.
No body clapped their hands.
Just silence.
It was clear as day, even in the serene dark of the night, They were all Brocken by fear to trust leadership from others.
And the sound of crackling flames and night insects.
Silence.
Ryker moved.
Lyriel placed her hand Infront of him.
Her eyes never looked away from randell.
He jolted to a halt.
He looked at her face.
Serious.
She was really serious.
He looked to his left.
Marilin too was serious.
Very.