They passed a final dense tree line, and before them was a hollowed-out area of the forest, and inside this hollowed area were different log buildings. Soldiers bearing brands on their armor that Corrin had never seen before walked in sync; soldiers trained at dummies and with each other.
Children played in the yard around their houses, and in the center was the largest building of them all, rising taller and wider than the others, with ornate details carved into the sides. Forrest looked at Corrin.
"Welcome to Oaksjean. The last remnant of the Vrebathian Kingdom."
Forrest led them through the village and to the largest structure in the center. Children stare up at them from their homes, looking at their bloody, sweaty, ash-ridden bodies as they walk into the building.
When they enter, there's a small room with a few waiting chairs, and two ornate doors to the right and left. Forrest leads them through the door to the left. When they enter, a dozen people wearing armor are huddled around a large table. On the table is a map with numerous daggers and pins stuck through it. Words are thrown from one end to the other as they debate.
"We can't be sure that she won't burn more villages!"
"If she's already gained the shard, all hope is lost!"
"We must get to it before she does!"
"Even if we do — what then? We can't use it!"
Seemingly at the same time, they all turn and look at Corrin, Edwin, and Forrest. Forrest steps forward and bows politely.
"Forgive my intrusion, but I believe I have the solution to your current circumstances."
He steps aside and presents Corrin. After a small, awkward pause, he grabs the necklace around Corrin and pulls it out from under his shirt. The shard glows dully, and those in the room all gasp. They erupt back into discussion until one raises his hand, and they all fall silent.
He steps forward, nodding to Forrest and turning his attention to Corrin. He has short gray hair, battle scars on his face and hands, and the expression of someone in command.
"You must be Corrin Hisstion, is that right?"
Corrin nods. The man sets his hand on Corrin's shoulders
"I knew your grandfather; he and I were good friends."
He turns to the others around them.
"Leave us, we will continue this meeting tomorrow."
They do so without question, Corrin notes the clear respect in the air. The man looks down at Corrin.
"Your father did not make it?"
Corrin holds his tongue, his expression turning to one of sorrow. The man nods understandingly and brings them out of the room, across the hall, and to the door on the right. Inside was a dusty office space. The man sits down at the desk and offers the others wooden seats in front of the desk. Behind him is a large window, and around them are beautiful details on the walls.
"Well, we can start with names. My name is Axel Leimon. I'm Forrest's father."
Edwin and Corrin share their names: Corrin Hisstion and Edwin Farris. Axel gazes at the shard.
"Do you know what that thing does?"
Corrin picked it up gently with his hand and took a long look into its sparkling depths. The shine seemed to draw Corrin in.
"I don't."
"You see, that very shard was created thousands of years ago during the creation of all of the realms. The gods used shards of similar power to rule over the mortals of this world before their fall long ago. The shard itself creates a vessel of sorts to harness the Anees Energy hiding away in the atmosphere easily and effectively."
Axel clears his throat, watching Corrin as he fiddles with it.
"The only downside: if one attempts to use the shard for that very purpose, their body will receive a form of false pain. Your grandfather used it as well as he could. But still, after every battle, he had to rest for days due to the extreme pressure of harnessing the power within it."
Corrin removes the shard from his palm, slightly afraid of the power. The prospect of being bedridden for days after using the shard frightened him.
"That is enough. You need rest, and a bit of medical attention couldn't hurt either; your body seems quite bruised. Forrest, take them to Merri, have her treat their wounds. Then bring them both to a tent; they can sleep there."
Forrest nods and brings Corrin out of the building. The sun peaks just over the tree line as it gets darker. The tents are ragged, like they've been set up for a long time. Atop one of them is a red cross. When they enter the tent with the red cross, they see dozens of people sitting on beds. Most are covered in blood and dirty bandages, and some make grunts of pain.
Corrin and Edwin are brought to two separate beds next to each other and told to stay for a moment. Corrin observes the people around him. Compared to their wounds, Corrin looks like he had only fallen from a tree.
"You seem quiet, Corrin."
Corrin is startled by Edwin speaking; he was lost in thought.
"We just lost everything, Edwin. I can hardly find the energy to stand, let alone speak."
Edwin seems to accept this answer as Forrest comes back alongside a woman with long, dirty blonde hair and brown eyes. She's wearing a white button-up shirt as she sets down a tray of different medical supplies on a bedside table. She first looks at Corrin.
"The wounds on your face seem to have healed, but nothing too severe. You'll be better in a few days."
Corrin is told to take off his shirt, which he reluctantly does. She reviews the wounds on his body, noting places that may need treatment.
"You have a lot of bruises and a few burns. But you don't appear to have anything that would cause too much blood loss, aside from that cut on your forehead. It should be gone in a few weeks, though."
She grabs a wide metal tin from her tray and pops off the lid.
"Put this ointment on the burns and the blisters every night for the next three weeks. It's a slow process, but faster and less painful than if you waited for them to heal on their own."
She turns her attention to Edwin as Corrin pulls his dirty shirt back over his head. Edwin was slightly luckier, having only a few bruises and burns from the fires and mob of panicking people.
After the visit, they're both told to clean themselves. A large public bathing tent was set up with stalls for privacy. Both of them had been caught up in grime; they longed to be clean again. The water in the stall was in a barrel; it wasn't particularly clean, nor very warm, but it got the job done as well as any water would. After cleaning himself, he left with a rough linin around his waist. When he left, he was handed clothing Corrin had never worn before.
Corrin began to slip himself into the clothing, which was softer than anything he had ever worn. Though it was not the softest thing he had ever felt, for clothing, it was light, breathable, and comfortable, three things he never had the luxury of having all together.
While putting them on, he felt awkward trying to find where every strap and buckle was supposed to go. Eventually, he finally got them set. He looked at himself in a mirror, something he rarely got to do before, and admired himself.
Staring back at him was a young man with bright blonde hair, blue eyes, and a face with a dim, glowing scar. He wore a deep green button-up overshirt and khaki pants with suspenders that reached over his shoulders. On his right waist was a large leather pouch that could be filled with any manner of things. He wore stiff boots that would need to be broken in before being comfortable. On his left hip was a leather loop he couldn't understand the need for.
Corrin walked out and saw Edwin, who wore a similar attire, but his button-up went diagonal from the upper left to the lower right, a common fashion design among merchants, and no suspenders.
"Nice clothes, huh?"
Corrin agreed silently; he simply couldn't understand Edwin's optimism in such a situation as the one they were stuck in.
Soon, however, they ate and slept. Their food was nothing more than what they would usually have eaten: stew and bread. Though having more than a small bowl was quite a blessing in the eyes of Corrin.
The tent was silent. Corrin dreamed of his father dying, begging Corrin to save him. He woke up in a sweat and couldn't close his eyes for the remainder of the night.
Dawn was favorable. Corrin found getting up to be an escape from the nightmares. That early in the day, Corrin was surprised to see so many people awake. It was as though it were midday; nobody at all seemed tired. Usually, Corrin saw only farmhands awake that early; the rest of the family was usually asleep.
After breakfast, which again was stew and bread (Corrin began to notice a pattern), Forrest led them a small way from the main camp through a narrow opening in the dense oak forest. Through the way was a smaller, yet still quite significant, hollowed-out area of the forest.
There was a tent with a side missing. Inside the tent were numerous different weapons, alongside three individuals.
Sitting in the back was a short man with three small scars next to his right eye and graying black hair. He wore a cold expression and iron-plated body armor.
Sitting closer to the left was a muscular bald black man. His fiercesome look deterred looking, but his outfit was, in Corrin's opinion, among the strangest he'd ever seen, with an off-white t-shirt with red stripes going down vertically, fitted with a tan scarf around his neck.
Sitting closest to them was Merri, the woman they had met the previous day at the medical tent, her dirty blonde hair now in a ponytail; she was wearing a dark-green V-neck t-shirt and trousers that went down to just above her ankles.
Forrest turned to both of them.
"I had a small talk with my father before you two were awake. He and I both agreed that you two should be trained for basic combat at the least."
He grabs one of the two swords at his left hip and holds it out to Corrin.
"Corrin, your grandfather's Katana. Take it."
Corrin grabbed the Katana and twisted it around, looking at it. It had a black design, and on the sheath, there was a name written on it: Hisstion.