The early morning light painted Yldrahollow in gentle hues of gold and rose as Eliakim and Gideon stepped out into the village. The scent of dew still lingered in the air, and the cobbled streets were damp beneath their boots. Though the village had begun to return to its peaceful rhythm, there was a change in the air—a quiet hum of gratitude and respect.
As Eliakim passed by, villagers paused in their morning chores. The blacksmith set down his hammer and nodded with solemn respect. The baker's wife stepped outside her shop and offered him a warm loaf without asking for coin. Children peeked from behind fences, some offering shy smiles.
"Thank you, Eliakim," an elder said, grasping his hands. "You saved our children. You saved us."
Another villager echoed, "If not for you, they would've been lost to slavery. We can never repay you."
Eliakim offered a humble bow, nodding at each villager who approached.
Gideon walked silently beside him, eyes scanning the faces of the people. None of them looked at him the same way. Though he stood by Eliakim's side, the villagers' thanks were reserved for one person: Eliakim.
Gideon didn't seem to mind. If anything, he looked proud.
They made their way to the village square, where a small crowd had begun to form. At the center stood the merchant—tattered, disheveled, and bound by rope. Beside him stood the village head, his arms folded as he addressed the people.
"We have decided," the elder announced, "that the merchant who brought ruin and deception to our village shall not be executed or imprisoned."
Murmurs spread through the crowd. The merchant looked up, barely hiding his smirk.
"Instead," the village head continued, "he shall be exiled. Banished from Yldrahollow forever. He is to leave immediately, and never return. If he does, his life will be forfeit."
A few villagers voiced concern, others disapproval. But most, swayed by the village head's calm authority and Eliakim's example of mercy, nodded in agreement.
The merchant's grin widened. "So you still see me as valuable. Even after all this."
"No," the elder said coldly. "We see you as pathetic."
Eliakim, watching from the side, thought quietly. This was his moment.
He stepped forward. "Let me escort him," he said firmly. "I'll make sure he leaves our land—and I'll take him as far as the nearest city."
Gasps rose. Seraphine, who had joined the edge of the crowd, stared in shock.
"You want to leave?" she whispered.
Eliakim met her eyes. "I must. I need to know the world outside. And this is my chance to begin."
The village head considered him for a long moment, then nodded. "Very well. You'll see him off our lands."
The merchant cackled under his breath. "How ironic. The boy who ruined me now becomes my guide."
Eliakim ignored him.
But in his heart, he questioned: How far can the Codex of Imreth guide me? Is it even updated? Does it know the roads that have changed with time?
The questions weighed heavy, but his resolve did not waver.
Later that day, the villagers began to divide the confiscated belongings of the merchant's caravan. Eliakim stood by, overseeing the fair distribution.
To the blacksmith, they gave the merchant's tools and steel. To the baker, jars of honey and flour. To the apothecary, herbs and tinctures. Each skilled villager received something that could aid their craft and sustain their families.
While organizing, Eliakim opened a wooden box bound in iron clasps. To his shock, it contained rare maps and charts—likely stolen or bought through deception. He tucked them into his pack, unsure of their value, but sensing their worth.
He turned to see the merchant sitting in the center of the square, wrists bound, head hanging low. Tears stained his dirt-smeared face as he watched his caravan—his wealth, his power—dismantled and divided by the very people he meant to exploit.
The merchant sobbed pitifully, his pride reduced to dust.
Eliakim turned away, heart neither hardened nor moved. Justice had been served.
Gideon walked up beside him. "You really plan to take him to the city?"
Eliakim nodded. "It's a start. The Codex might not have all the answers, but maybe it's enough to guide us forward."
Gideon glanced at the sky, his amber eyes reflecting the light. "Then I'll go with you."
Eliakim gave a slight smile. "Good. I'd rather not face the roads alone."
As the sun dipped below the trees, casting long shadows across Yldrahollow, a new journey began—one that would take them far from home, toward truths yet unseen and dangers yet unknown.