The empty game bag slapped against Elliot's hip with each weary step, its hollowness mocking him louder than any shout. His shoulders ached from carrying his father's old hunting bow through countless miles of barren forest, yet he had nothing to show for his efforts—again. The bitter taste of failure coated his tongue like ash.
Three weeks, he thought, his jaw clenching against the shame that burned in his chest. Three weeks without bringing home so much as a scrawny rabbit. His family's gaunt faces flashed before his eyes, their sunken cheeks and hollow stares haunting him with each failed hunt. They were starving, and he—their hunter, their provider—had failed them utterly.
The cottage door groaned on its rusted hinges as he pushed inside, the familiar scent of woodsmoke and desperation greeting him. But something was different. The scarred wooden table groaned beneath a feast that made his empty stomach clench with sudden, desperate hunger—roasted meat, fresh bread, wheels of cheese that gleamed like golden coins in the firelight.
"Elliot!" His mother's voice rang with forced cheer as she gestured to an empty chair. "Sit, boy. Eat while it's still warm."
He stood frozen in the doorway, his calloused hands trembling around his bow. "Where did all this come from?" The words scraped from his throat like gravel. "We had nothing this morning. I've caught nothing for—"
"Questions later," his father interrupted gruffly, not meeting Elliot's eyes. "Eat first. You look half-dead."
Too exhausted and hungry to argue, Elliot propped his bow against the wall and slumped into the chair. He tore into the warm bread with ravenous desperation, the rich flavors exploding across his tongue after weeks of thin gruel. His parents watched him eat in uncomfortable silence, exchanging weighted glances.
Only when he'd taken the edge off his hunger did his father clear his throat. "The Sisters of Light came through the village today." His weathered hands fidgeted with his eating knife, the blade catching nervous flickers of candlelight. "They brought news—grave news about the mist."
Elliot's blood chilled. He'd seen the creeping tendrils of silver mist threading through the distant hills, consuming everything in their path like hungry serpents. "It's advancing faster, isn't it?"
His mother nodded, her face pale as parchment. "The Sisters say it's no longer safe to remain. The mist will swallow our village within a week, perhaps days. They've ordered everyone to evacuate."
"Then this feast..." Understanding struck him like a physical blow. "This isn't celebration food. It's farewell food."
His parents exchanged a glance heavy with unspoken guilt. His father cleared his throat, the sound harsh as grinding stone. "The Sisters came seeking Guardians, Elliot. Young women with the gift to hold back the darkness."
Elliot leaned back in his chair, reaching for his father's wine cup. "Who was the lucky one then?" He took a long drink, the bitter liquid burning down his throat. "Let me guess—Creepy Aldric? That boy always gave me the shivers. I always knew there was something freakish about him." He laughed harshly and took another swig, complementing the wine's rich flavor with a bitter smile. "At least it's good wine. Better than the swill we usually can afford."
His parents watched him in heavy silence, their faces growing paler with each passing moment.
Elliot's laughter died as he noticed their expressions. "What? You know he's creepy too. Always lurking around, muttering to himself like—" He stopped mid-sentence as his parents' meaningful glance pierced through his wine-fogged thoughts.
"Actually," his father said quietly, "he wasn't the lucky one."
The cup froze halfway to Elliot's lips. "What do you mean?"
A cold dread began spreading through his chest. His eyes darted between his parents' guilty faces before he set the cup down with trembling hands. "Mother... where are my sisters?"
She wouldn't meet his gaze.
"WHERE ARE SERA AND MAYA?" He shot to his feet, the chair scraping against the floor, and bolted toward their small bedroom. The room looked exactly as it always had—their tiny blankets still rumpled on the straw mattresses, their few ragged clothes folded neatly in the corner, Maya's wooden doll sitting on the windowsill where she'd left it. Everything was there, yet the space felt hollow, empty of the laughter and whispered conversations that usually filled it.
He stumbled back to the main room, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Why are you silent? Where are my sisters?"
"They're in a better place," his mother whispered, tears streaming down her face.
His father's voice cracked as he explained, "The Sisters of Light took them, Elliot. Sera and Maya... they've been chosen to become new Guardians."
The cottage walls seemed to collapse inward, crushing the air from Elliot's lungs. "Chosen?" The word tasted like poison on his tongue. "You mean taken. You let strangers take my sisters?"
"It's an honor!" His mother's voice cracked with desperation. "They'll serve the Light, protect the realm from—"
Elliot spun toward the entrance, his feet already moving, but his father's sharp voice stopped him cold. "No use, boy! They're long gone!"
Elliot froze at the threshold, his whole body trembling with fear and desperation.
"They're children!" Elliot's fist slammed against the doorframe, sending splinters cascading to the floor. "Sera and Maya are only six years old! They're babies! How could you—"
"They're Guardians now," his father said firmly, though his hands shook as he spoke. "They've gone to Heavenport for training. We'll see them there when we arrive at Heavenport."
Elliot moved from the doorway, his boots heavy against the floorboards. He slumped into the chair and tore off a piece of bread, chewing mechanically while his mind reeled. "Since when do we have money and approval to live in Heavenport?" The words came out muffled through his food. "I thought only the elite could afford to live there."
His father's chest puffed with misplaced pride. "It's a gift from the Sisters of Light. Your sisters becoming Guardians has opened many doors for our family."
Elliot swallowed hard, the bread turning to ash in his mouth. "So we're feasting on my sisters' sacrifice."
"They're going to be safe in Heavenport," his mother interjected sharply, her wine-flushed face defensive. "Far, far away from this cursed mist we will join them soon . While the other villagers can only flee to the next three settlements we are going to live in heavenport safely .
His father raised his cup with a bitter laugh. Cheers For our new life
Cheers For our new life his wife join him
So we're going to sail away to comfort while your two daughters and all our neighbors face the creeping death." He took a long drink, wine dribbling down his chin. "What a bargain we've struck." sorry i can not Cheers with you all i can think of is my sister alone afraid even think about it make me afraid
The room fell silent save for the crackling of the fire and Elliot's ragged breathing. He stared at the feast—payment for his sisters' lives—and felt bile rise in his throat. Without a word, he collapsed into the offered chair and mechanically began to eat, each bite tasting like betrayal.
"The village chief has given us until dawn," his mother whispered, breaking the suffocating quiet. "We must gather what we can carry and join the evacuation convoy."
Elliot looked up from his untouched bread, his eyes blazing with barely contained fury. "What about the Adventurers' Guild? Where are the heroes who are supposed to cleanse these mists? Why are we running instead of fighting?"
His father's laugh held no humor. "The last adventuring party that entered the mist never returned. Even the Guild has declared this mist beyond mortal means to seal. Only the Guardians' light can hold it back now."
The words hung in the air like a death sentence. Outside, the wind howled through the eaves, carrying with it the faint, acrid scent of the approaching mist—and the promise that their world was ending, one village at a time.