The first week following the surprise bandit attack passed in silence.
No one spoke of it, or even mentioned it.
All the children, save for Darian, were terrified.
Elara feared that such stress might endanger her baby.
"Well, I suppose it's over now, my love," Patrick said softly, holding her close as only he could. "Everything will be fine, okay? I'm going to protect you. No harm will come to you."
Darian joined the hug.
"Don't forget about me. I want to protect you guys too," he said, giving a long yawn.
"Of course, son. But remember that you are just a child. We want to protect you too," Patrick clarified.
However, Darian had already fallen asleep.
...
By the second week, everything had changed.
Sister Lilyth stood before a massive bonfire.
Village tradition held that a day be chosen each week to celebrate the virtue and fertility granted by the goddess Zenth.
Lilyth seized the opportunity to rally her people.
"Today we are gathered before the Great Imer Bonfire."
The fire had a peculiar shape. Logs arranged in the form of a cross rose toward the sky, surrounded by flowers placed at a safe distance from the flames. The specific type of flower didn't matter; it was enough that they released their scent to honor the goddess of fertility.
"Two months ago, our journey began toward the so-called Promised Land. Though the name sounds like divine revelation, it is nothing more than a no-man's-land. It is a place that was always said to be cursed, a place we assumed we should never go due to fear and bad omens."
Lilyth walked in circles around the fire. Her gaze was decisive, her steps firm.
"And yet, here we are. Because I am certain that the answer to our questions lies there. The solution we have sought for so long. Furthermore, we are doing exactly what our Goddess did: rejecting the throne for the sake of freedom."
Patrick already knew the story of that goddess well, so Elara was the only one surprised.
Why didn't she know the goddess's history?
Elara had been a slave.
She had been rescued by a rebellious Patrick who, following the death of his parents, had fled the village.
However, with the passage of time, he understood that his rebellion had brought him nothing but hardship. The nearest towns were too far away, and the stigma against tall, strong outsiders was severe. He had no choice but to return.
It was during that journey back that he saw a caravan.
There was Elara, dragging chains in her hands, her gaze empty and lifeless.
Slavery was looked down upon; it cast doubt on the words of the goddess Zenth and broke one of the sacred pacts: you shall not treat others as objects or as a means to obtain dirty money. That is why, using his strength, Patrick saved her.
And now, years later, she was about to learn the true story.
"After defying her siblings," Lilyth continued, "she descended to the earthly plane and created the first humans. In the beginning, we were little more than animals, creatures guided only by instinct, without reason or purpose."
She paused briefly, letting only the crackling of the bonfire fill the silence.
"But the goddess saw that this was not the world she desired. Nature was beginning to tilt too much toward the predators, and the balance was slipping away. So, she made a decision."
Lilyth looked up.
"She granted us reason and superior intelligence, something no other creature possessed. In exchange, our bodies would be more fragile. We would not be the strongest or the fastest, but we would be the ones capable of reason, creation, and choice."
A young boy raised his hand immediately.
It was obvious who it was; no mention was needed.
"If we are more fragile, how did we beat monsters so easily?"
Lilyth gave a faint smile. Little Darian was perfect for this moment.
"Because, although we are physically weaker, we are smarter," she replied. "That intelligence led us to discover and utilize our inner mana, a divine essence, as a means to empower ourselves."
She gestured slightly toward Patrick.
"Your father, for example, is capable of hardening his weapons and channeling that same energy to move faster than the human eye can track."
Then she directed her gaze toward Hans.
"Hans possesses excellent defense, although he lacks mobility."
Hans puffed out his chest immediately, wearing a proud smile.
Then she looked at Rolf.
"And Rolf is the most agile of the three, but he lacks power and defense."
Those three were the strongest swordsmen in the village.
Using mana in swords was extremely rare. Generally, it was more common to find people who channeled it through spears or other types of weapons.
"Regarding Lara and Nina..." she looked at both of them. "They are capable of channeling that inner mana into their eyes to obtain clearer and farther vision, even through fog. Furthermore, it allows them to hold a drawn bow for much longer, which translates into perfect precision every time."
"Now, regarding the mages, Zeldric and Lancelot. That is different."
"Different how?" asked one of the children next to Darian.
"They use mana externally. That method is actually much more common than using it internally. However, the number of spells they can employ is limited by their own knowledge; they cannot invent a new one on their own. Even so, they can empower the ones they already know."
The children did not seem to have any intention of stopping.
"Does the goddess Zenth still watch us?"
"Can she get angry if we do something wrong?"
"Was she also afraid when she left the throne?"
Lilyth waited until the murmuring died down and silence settled over the group.
"As long as we do not abandon her, she will always be with us."
"She will not get angry. To her, we all deserve a second chance."
"We all feel fear when we leave our homes, but with time we discover that it was necessary."
She answered every question.
Elara looked at her own hands and then at her belly.
Second chance.
The phrase now resonated in her mind.
For a long time, she believed she owed Patrick her devotion, that she had to give him an heir as a form of gratitude. However, as the days passed, she had fallen in love with him. Although that initial thought had disappeared and she had married him without that sense of debt, the idea continued to torment her in silence.
For his part, Patrick also remembered his rebellious past and how he had abandoned his village and his friends over a teenage tantrum.
Then, they both looked at Darian, half-asleep yet still attentive, his head resting on his mother's lap.
They stroked his hair and smiled when he yawned.
This is all I needed, Patrick thought. I was forgiven by Zenth, and she granted me a great family, a wonderful son, and someone else on the way.
Darian finally fell asleep. Patrick carried him carefully in his arms to one of the tents, where he tucked him in gently and placed the small toy boat Darian loved so much by his side.
"Sailing... I want to sail..." he murmured as his father kissed his forehead.
"I love you, my great hope."
...
The next day, the two-week rest came to an end, and the journey continued.
The group was more recovered, and Silvina was noticeably more relaxed. Her baby was especially calm; she almost never cried, except when she was hungry.
"Thus, Prince Phillip and his beloved Erza found true love after living in a palace among the mountains," Silvina was recounting.
Since they didn't have books, stories were invented on the fly or reconstructed from memories passed down in the same way. This was partly because books were very expensive and, being so far from the big cities, it was impossible to acquire any.
Fortunately, the only book they did have was a guide to the Path of the Dawn, along with a map to avoid dangerous roads. They had taken it from the bandits. Even with that, it wasn't enough to soothe the boredom of the little ones.
However, they were now getting closer to the "forbidden" zone, or rather, to the region that simply did not exist on any map.
The Path of the Dawn had a clear limit. Beyond that point, everything would be unknown territory.
That road was also a silent testament to the ancient wars between humans and demons. It was said that the great path had been forged by the slash of a single sword, a scar impossible to erase from the world.
For that reason, the appearance of monsters in the vicinity was almost nonexistent. Even so, with the passage of time, they could eventually wander in. Wolves or bears, for instance.
And the people in charge of protection were willing to give their all.
...
Two more weeks of travel passed. By then, it had been three months since they had departed, and only a month remained before they reached the unknown territory: the threshold to the so-called promised, or cursed, land.
It was said that before reaching it, they had to cross a thick fog that never lifted. Those who managed to cross it usually faced a powerful monster, as if the creature were a final test. Only after overcoming it could they continue advancing.
Furthermore, that region seemed to reject hostility. It attacked those who tried to enter without a noble reason with greater ferocity. Even so, brute force could suffice. However, although the king had the capacity to send an army, doing so would weaken his military power and expose him to attacks from neighboring kingdoms or even an internal revolution.
"Do you think we have been good parents, my love?" Patrick asked, taking advantage of the fact that Darian was asleep.
"Yes, my love. Why do you say that?"
"It's just that I think we should have given him a more dignified life... in the capital, or..."
Elara took his hands and kissed them.
"Listen to me. He doesn't care about that, okay? He is happy with us and with this journey. He is just bored, that's all. Mostly from being locked in the boring box, as he calls it."
"It's just that maybe, with my strength, I could have gotten a good job, but..."
"That would also imply abandoning your people, right?"
"Yes, exactly. I already did that once and I didn't want to repeat it. After all, they saved my parents back in the day, during the extreme heatwave."
At that moment, Darian opened his eyes.
He had clearly heard that.
"The capital is boring... Saldry said there are too many people, it's noisy, and there are lots of stuck-up kids. I'm happy here, Mommy and Daddy."
Patrick blinked three times.
"Listening to other people's conversations again, young man?"
"It wasn't other people's if you were close by," he yawned again. "Don't say I'm not listening if you talk right by my ear."
"And what else did you hear, you rascal?" asked Elara, smiling as she adjusted the blanket over him.
"That you say important things..." Darian replied, his voice sleepy. "But I don't remember all of them. I just know you love me a lot."
"Oh, really? Then you are an expert."
"I'm just paying attention, Daddy." He yawned again. "Anyway, I don't mind hearing secrets, as long as they end in hugs."
Darian finally fell asleep.
Elara leaned in and kissed Darian's forehead, then rested her head against Patrick's shoulder.
"Goodnight, my little one," she whispered. "Sweet dreams."
Patrick mimicked her, kissing the top of Elara's head.
Together, the three remained in silence, wrapped in the warmth of the bonfire and the safety of the journey.