[The Weary Road Home]
The storm's rage had subsided, replaced by a soft, persistent drizzle. Clean, fresh sheets of water washed over the land, carrying away the foul traces of the battle. Though the rain was gentler, the ground remained treacherous; it was slick with mud and the sickening residue of blood.
The gorge was a field of exhaustion and relief. Barik and Thalen's combined groups moved out before the first hint of light could touch the eastern horizon, leaving the carcass of the wolves and the eerie stillness of their attack behind.
The trek back to Haven Below was slow and agonizing. Every step was a conscious effort, a testament to the brutal toll of the night.
The wounded, including Rian and several of Thalen's men, were supported between the stronger fighters, their pained groans muffled by the wind.
Dara, with a leg wound, was so exhausted she could barely keep pace. She initially declined Joeren's hesitant offer to help, her pride bristling even in fatigue, but her steps grew shorter, and the pain in her thigh intensified. Seeing the grim set of her jaw, he gently took her arm anyway. He was genuinely afraid her wound would worsen. Too weary to protest, she finally leaned into his support after seeing the honest concern in his eyes.
Barik walked beside his father, Thalen, both of them moving on sheer willpower. The unearthly memory of the silver light hung between them, too strange and fragile to discuss yet.
As the sun climbed toward its peak, casting a warm glow over the landscape, the sturdy walls of Haven Below finally came into view, a welcome sight after hours of traveling.
The sentries saw them first and sounded the bell in their post. Another bell rang when they approached the massive Main Gates of Haven Below; the weariness of the returning hunters gave way to a surge of adrenaline.
The sight of the mud-caked, blood-stained warband caused a hush to fall over the early-rising tribe members. Relief warred with horror on every face.
People came running: wives, children, elders. Questions poured like rain, but Thalen only raised a hand. "Later. Get the healers first."
The wounded were immediately rushed to the healers' quarters. Barik and Thalen, after a brief, tearful reunion with their friends, were summoned immediately to the Elders' Council.
Inside the Hall of Stone, firelight flickered against the carved beams. The elders gathered in a rough circle, their cloaks dripping, their faces carved with lines of fear and disbelief.
***
[The Elder's Council: A Miracle Reported]
The council chamber was cramped and humid, smelling of old stone and anxiety. Six elders, their faces etched with worry, sat at a semi-circle table, their eyes sharp and unforgiving. Barik stood beside his father, his own exhaustion barely masked.
Thalen and his son stood before them, the duo's postures rigid despite their wounds, the mud-caked clothes and dried blood a silent testament to their ordeal.
"My son's team was besieged by a massive pack of wolves," Thalen began, his voice steady but laced with a hint of trauma. He narrated the flimsiness of Barik's barricade, the unrelenting, intelligent assault, and the sheer number of the wolves.
He paused, collecting his thoughts. "It was then that our group arrived. We engaged them, hoping to split their attack. But our intervention did not turn the tide; instead, we were almost decimated by the onslaught."
He continued his report, but did not mention Dara's heroic moves. He omitted the part where she, despite her injury, had emptied her quiver with impossible precision, dropping three wolves in rapid succession, or how she had fought with a tracker's machete when her arrows ran out. It wasn't a malicious slight; his mind was focused purely on the immediate logistical problem: the four lives left behind.
For him, the mysterious silver light and the dire crisis overshadowed individual acts of bravery, not because they weren't remarkable, but because every one of them had displayed exceptional courage and selflessness. In that moment, heroism wasn't unique – it was a shared badge of honor. The council needed to hear facts and figures, not tales of a young woman's ferocity.
"We were outnumbered four-to-one, fighting a losing battle." Thalen took a breath. "We were saved by something... not of this world," he said, his voice firm despite the absurdity of the claim.
Elder Faren, known for his rigid adherence to tradition, shifted uncomfortably. "Explain yourself, Thalen. What 'thing'?"
"The wolves turned on a soundless command, right when we were about to break," Thalen continued, his eyes locked on the elder. "And before they fled, streak of silver light erupted from the ground. It passed over us, but it scourged them. They ran in terror. It was a miracle, nothing less."
Elder Lena, the most pragmatic of the group, leaned forward. "A light? You mean a flare, a strange lightning strike? Thalen, we need facts."
"We are giving you facts, Elder," Barik interjected, his voice raw. "It was not lightning. It was a wave of pure, cold light that chose the wolves. It hit the ground first and spread. I saw their bodies twist in the glare. They didn't retreat; they fled in absolute terror."
Thalen nodded, backing his son's impossible story. "We would be dead now if not for that silver light."
After Thalen recounted their ordeal, particularly the mysterious silver light that had repelled the wolves, the elders' skepticism was palpable – all except Elder Faren. His expression turned introspective, as if memories long buried had resurfaced. The mention of the silver light seemed to stir a deep recollection, one that brought a mix of awe and trepidation to his eyes.
Their attention turned to Barik; he took a deep breath and recited the final, crucial details about the Glass-back beast. His words painted a picture even more extraordinary than his father's account.
The elders exchanged skeptical glances, their faces a mixture of incredulity and concern. Elder Faren, a staunch traditionalist, scoffed, "Another fanciful tale? Two sixteen-year-old youths playing at hunting!"
One of the elders couldn't help but exclaim in disbelief, "How can this be? A seasoned group of hunters failed to subdue the beast, yet these youngsters fought it off? And a mysterious light that saved you from the wolves?"
His tone was laced with doubt, but Barik's account refused to yield to skepticism. There was no apparent motive for fabricating such a story, yet the elder's mind struggled to accept the fantastical claims.
The elder's voice was firm but laced with disapproval. "We're discussing men's lives, not fireside myths. You abandoned others in the cave. Explain why you returned without those youngsters and two of our hunters."
Barik's jaw clenched, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "Eris and Kaylah are safe. We left them in the cave with Renzo and Tonovan, who sustained severe injuries during the encounter. Kaylah placed them in a state of deep healing sleep. Maybe, she gave them herbs... " he hesitated, unsure how to elaborate, "... but it seemed to relieve their pain, and they were resting more easily."
"If we'd tried to move them, they would have died. We have to go back for them. Now!" His voice rose, conviction driving his words. "The sooner, the better!"
"We can't afford to lose another team!" Elder Faren's voice rose, his hand slamming down on the table. "Our fighters are already stretched thin, and capable hunters are scarce. We need to regroup and reassess the situation, not rush headlong into further danger."
Elder Mishal's trembling voice rose above the din. "We must rescue them. My son, Renzo, is still out there!"
"Are you mad? We'll be walking into the wolves' jaws! The gorge is teeming with beasts!" Elder Faren's voice was adamant. "We can't risk sending anyone else in there!"
"If we wait too long, my son will die!" Elder Mishal's voice cracked with desperation, his eyes welling up with tears.
Thalen stepped forward, his expression sympathetic, and gently placed a hand on Elder Mishal's shoulder. "Your son is safe for now," he said calmly. "Eris and Kaylah are with them, and I believe they'll protect them. Kaylah also has...healing abilities." His voice trailed off slightly, aware of the elder's skepticism.
The elders' eyes widened in a mix of amazement and skepticism, each new detail more fantastical than the last. The mention of Kaylah's miraculous healing power seemed to be the catalyst for a cascade of incredulous tales, leaving the council struggling to keep up with the narrative.
Elder Mishal's face twisted in a mix of fear and hope, his eyes locked on Thalen's. "Thank you, Thalen," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I want to believe in this power you speak of, but...it's my son." His words hung in the air, heavy with desperation and doubt.
The tension in the cramped chamber was a palpable, suffocating thing. Barik felt his blood run cold as Elder Faren brought the argument to a brutal halt.
"Enough!" Elder Faren argued, slamming a hand on the table. "Let these weary hunters rest; none leave Haven. We'll decide after the meeting with the rest of the elders."
The council fell silent. The decision was bitter but final. To the elders, the raw, chaotic fight was already a blur; only the impossible light and the looming threat of further losses remained clear. The lives of the two children and the wounded hunters were now an unfortunate calculation, outweighed by the defense of Haven Below.
The council did not disperse. Instead, they remained seated, their fear evident. Every face turned toward the empty chair at the head of the table. They needed an answer, a resolution that transcended logic and politics. They desperately wished Ruvio was there to finally decide on the matter. Without the Elder Seer, their collective will fractured. Elder Faren told Thalen to stay; he needed to verify something from him.
***
[In the Emberlight]
Barik didn't linger in the council chamber, disheartened by the elders' bickering. As he made his way to the lower quarter, the mud-slickened path beneath his feet mirrored the murky uncertainty in his mind. The looming danger in the cave weighed heavily on him.
"We need to go back, and fast. They're not safe with that wolf pack lurking," he muttered to himself.
He took the covered paths toward Kaela's dwelling, more out of concern for her kin than any pressing obligation. Upon entering, he was greeted by a warm scene: Luna sat cross-legged on the floor, the two children snuggled close, the firelight casting a soft, golden glow over the room. The storm that raged the whole night seemed a world away.
Barik crouched down, his face breaking into a warm smile as he mussed Lisei's hair. "Kaylah and Eris are fine," he reassured them. "They're keeping an eye on the beast we caught. It wasn't much harder than catching rabbits, truth be told." Lisei giggled, and Myrah's eyes lit up.
"We know, Luna told us!" Lisei squealed, her voice bubbling over with excitement.
"And Luna said Eris will bring back a BIIIIIG pile of meat!" Myrah exclaimed, spreading her arms wide to illustrate the enormous size of the expected feast.
"And... and we'll have soups of meat every single day!" she continued, bouncing up and down. "Yaay! No more grass that made me run to the toilet every time I ate!" She made a face, scrunching up her nose in distaste.
Barik chuckled, unable to help but laugh at the children's antics. Luna smiled, a hint of amusement in her eyes.
As they spoke, Barik's gaze drifted to the table. Sheets of rough paper lay there, covered in Lisei's hand; lines and marks shaping tunnels, slopes, mountain ridges. Not idle sketches. Maps.
He didn't ask. He simply looked at Luna, and she met his eyes without explanation.
He stayed for a while, sharing a tempered version of the truth, one that would shield the children from the darkness.
Outside, the tempestuous storm finally began to subside, its fury spent. The rain dwindled to a gentle patter, a soft melody that washed away the night's terrors. The air was crisp and clean, the land rejuvenated by the downpour.
As he prepared to leave, Barik's gaze drifted toward the Main Gate, his eyes straining to see beyond the makeshift barriers, to the gorge and the cave where Eris and Kaylah fought on. "Hold on," he whispered, the words a silent promise. "I'll be back."
With that vow, Barik stepped out into the gray light of dawn, the mist swirling around his feet. Unbeknownst to him, the threads of fate had already woven together, drawing the couple toward a common destiny; one forged in silver, where their paths would either converge or diverge in ways they could hardly imagine.
***