The rhythmic thud of wooden swords clashing echoed in the clearing as Vel tightened his grip and sidestepped Kein's quick lunge. Sweat dripped down his brow, but he gritted his teeth and adjusted his stance. Celia stood nearby, offering tips between sparring rounds, her own practice sword resting against her shoulder.
Vel's focus broke when a familiar voice called out from the edge of the clearing.
"Vel-kun!"
He turned to see Landre approaching, her expression more serious than usual. Her hair was slightly tousled from the brisk walk, and she clutched her worn leather book tightly to her chest.
"Lan-neechan?" Vel lowered his practice sword, stepping toward her. Kein and Celia paused their sparring, glancing at each other before looking back at Landre.
"Dad's back," she began without preamble. "From Lady Halen's meeting." She glanced briefly at Celia and Kein before turning her full attention to Vel. "He wants everyone from Oakhaven to gather at the camp now."
Vel blinked, his heart skipping a beat. "What's it about?" he asked, though he could already sense the weight of whatever news Von carried.
Landre shook her head slightly. "I don't know the details," she admitted, voice steady but edged with tension. "But it sounded important."
Celia stepped forward, concern flashing across her face. "Should I come too? If it's something that affects everyone..."
Landre hesitated before answering. "It's up to you," she said carefully, then looked back at Vel. "But Dad specifically mentioned Oakhaven folks."
Vel nodded quickly, handing his practice sword to Kein without a word. His pulse quickened as thoughts raced through his mind—what could Von have learned? Had something happened during the meeting?
"Let's go," he said simply.
Landre led the way back toward the camp, with Vel close behind. As they neared the tents scattered across practice area, Vel noticed small groups of villagers already moving in the same direction. Whispers filled the air like an undercurrent—murmurs of speculation that only heightened his unease.
Von stood near the center of the camp, arms crossed as he spoke quietly with Mari and Kazar. His commanding presence drew every eye as people began to gather around him in anticipation of whatever news he was about to share.
Landre gave Vel a slight nudge forward. "Dad's waiting," she said softly.
Vel straightened his posture and stepped closer to join the forming crowd, his family by his side.
Von's boots scuffed against the wooden crate he climbed onto, his frame towering over the gathered villagers. He raised a hand, palm outward, commanding silence with a simple gesture. The murmurs of the crowd dwindled into an expectant hush, all eyes locking onto him.
"Everyone," he began, voice steady and carrying over the restless assembly. "I've just returned from Lady Halen's manor."
A ripple of movement passed through the crowd as heads turned and shoulders stiffened. Vel's heart thudded against his ribs. His father rarely spoke with such gravity unless the matter was urgent.
Standing next to Von was Graham, the Vice Headmaster of Elnor's Adventurer's Guild. His arms were folded across his chest, and his sharp gaze flickered across the villagers. Though silent, his presence alone added weight to Von's words.
"I won't draw this out," Von continued, glancing briefly at Mari before returning his focus to everyone gathered. "Lady Halen has sent word that…" he paused briefly, as if gauging their readiness for what came next. "The threat to Oakhaven is gone."
The declaration hit like a sudden gust of wind through dry leaves—an explosion of gasps and whispers erupted in response. Vel felt Landre clutch at her book tighter, her knuckles whitening around its edges.
"She believes," Von pressed on firmly above the rising noise, "that staying here like this—living in these conditions—isn't something any of us want. It's time for us to go back."
The weight in those words sank into Vel like a stone dropping into still water. Around him, villagers reacted in waves: some faces lit up with tentative hope while others darkened with doubt or disbelief.
"Is it true?!" someone called from the back.
"How can she be sure?" another voice followed quickly.
Von didn't falter under their questions. His voice cut through their concerns like a blade: "Lady Halen would not have given this directive lightly." He shifted slightly on his makeshift podium, gesturing toward Graham at his side. "Her scouts confirmed it—whatever threat remained has dispersed."
The buzz among the villagers grew louder again—questions overlapping declarations of relief or suspicion alike.
Von raised his hand again, silencing the crowd with a firm, commanding presence. His gaze swept across the villagers, steady and unyielding.
"There's more," he continued, his voice cutting through the murmurs like steel. "Lady Halen has made it clear that the decision lies with us. If you believe life here in Elnor offers you more opportunity, if you've found sustainable work or shelter—then you are free to stay."
The words hung in the air for a moment, heavy with implications. Vel felt a flicker of confusion ripple through him as he glanced at Landre, whose lips pressed into a thin line.
"But understand this," Von added sharply, drawing all attention back to him. "If you choose to stay… there will be no more provision from Lady Halen. No more shelter provided by her generosity." He paused, letting that reality sink in. "You'll be on your own."
The crowd erupted into voices all at once—an overlapping cacophony of questions, protests, and hushed conversations. Vel's stomach twisted uneasily as he watched villagers turning to one another with frantic expressions.
"What does she mean 'on our own'?" someone called out.
"We can't just fend for ourselves here!"
"But what about Oakhaven? What if it's not safe yet?"
The tension in the air thickened as opinions clashed and emotions surged like wildfire through the gathered group.
"Why would anyone want to stay?" a man near Vel spat bitterly. "This isn't our home!"
Across from him, another villager snapped back with equal ferocity: "And Oakhaven is? After what happened? You'd risk going back there?!"
The two men stepped closer to each other, their heated words drawing murmurs from those around them.
Vel shifted uncomfortably as more voices joined the fray.
"Traitors! If you stay here, you're turning your backs on Oakhaven!"
"And if you go back? You're throwing away safety for what—a ruined village?! Are we supposed to rebuild everything from scratch?!"
"You think I'm going to risk my children's lives for a place that nearly killed us all?!" a woman's voice cut through the growing noise. She clutched a young boy and girl close to her, their faces pressed against her skirt as she glared at the villagers around her. "Going back is madness!"
A man stepped forward, his fists clenched and trembling. "And what happens if not everyone goes back?" he demanded, his voice hoarse but forceful. "We can't rebuild Oakhaven without enough hands. It's already ruined! If only some of us go, it'll stay that way forever."
"The Chief isn't even here!" another voice chimed in, raw with frustration. "He abandoned us when we needed him most! How are we supposed to make this decision without someone to lead us?!"
Vel's heart sank as he listened to the arguments spiraling out of control. He glanced up at Von, whose expression remained resolute yet unreadable. Landre stood beside him, her lips pressed into a tight line as if holding back words.
The woman with the children wasn't done. Her voice rose again, sharp and cutting through the crowd like a whip: "You say we have a choice, but we don't really! We can't stay here—not without Lady Halen's support—and going back is just throwing our lives away!"
The murmurs around her grew louder—agreement mingling with dissent until it felt like every villager was shouting over one another.
"Enough!" Von's voice thundered suddenly, silencing the chaos like a clap of thunder. He stepped down from the crate and moved closer to the crowd, his presence commanding as always.
But instead of calming them completely, his action seemed to redirect their energy.
"If we can't stay here or go back alone," someone muttered near Vel before raising their voice for all to hear, "then we need someone who can make this work—someone who can lead us."
Vel stiffened as heads began turning toward Von—one by one at first, then in unison as realization swept through the group.
"We need a new Chief," an older man declared firmly from near the front of the crowd.
Another villager echoed him: "Von should take the role."
A ripple passed through those gathered—some nodding in agreement while others hesitated but said nothing against it. All eyes fixed on Von now.
Von's shoulders tensed, the weight of the suggestion visibly settling onto him like an unshakable burden. Vel's breath caught as he watched his father stand still amidst the growing murmurs of agreement. The villagers' eyes bore into Von, some pleading, others expectant, as if the mere act of naming him their leader had already sealed his fate.
Von glanced at Mari briefly—her expression was a careful mask, though her hands clutched the fabric of her skirt tightly. Landre, standing rigid beside Vel, shifted her weight uneasily but said nothing. Vel could feel the tension radiating from his sister as she clung to her leather book.
"Von," Kazar's gravelly voice broke through the quiet that had settled after the crowd's declaration. The old shaman stepped forward with measured steps, leaning slightly on her staff. Her gaze met Von's with an almost challenging steadiness. "It seems they've chosen you."
Von's jaw tightened visibly, and for a moment, he seemed on the verge of speaking before his eyes flickered toward Kazar and then to the Seer, who stood silently nearby.
"Kazar," Von addressed her directly, his voice low but steady enough to carry over the crowd. "You've been here far longer than I have… and you know these people well." He hesitated just a beat before continuing. "Perhaps it is not my place—perhaps someone like you…"
Kazar shook her head firmly before Von could finish.
"No," she interrupted with surprising sharpness. "We are too old." She motioned toward herself and then toward the Seer without glancing at him. Her tone softened slightly as she added, "And not strong enough to lead in times like these."
The Seer gave a slow nod in agreement but remained otherwise silent.
Von's lips pressed into a thin line as he absorbed their words. His gaze shifted back to Mari for an instant—a fleeting moment where Vel caught something raw and conflicted in his father's expression.
Landre shifted beside Vel, her grip tightening around her leather book as though it might anchor her in this storm of voices. Her lips moved slightly, whispering something too quiet for Vel to catch. Was it a prayer? A plea? He didn't know, but the sight of her uncertainty sent an uneasy ripple through him.
Mari stepped forward, just barely. She didn't say anything—her hands clutched at the fabric of her skirt as if it might stop them from trembling—but the look she gave Von spoke volumes. It was filled with questions, doubts… and a glimmer of something Vel couldn't place. Trust? Hope? Whatever it was only deepened Von's conflict.
"Dad," Vel whispered under his breath, though his voice barely reached his own ears.
Von exhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw clenched so tightly that the muscle along his cheek twitched. His eyes swept over the crowd one last time—faces filled with desperation and expectation—and then down to his family. To Mari's silent strength. To Landre's nervous resolve. Finally, to Vel himself.
Von straightened suddenly, drawing himself up to his full height as if steeling himself for battle.
"No," he said finally, his voice cutting through the crowd like a blade.
The word hung in the air for a moment—jarring in its simplicity—and silence fell over the gathering like a shroud.
"I can't do it," Von continued, more firmly now as he looked out at them all. "I won't lead you back to Oakhaven."
Gasps rippled through the villagers like aftershocks from an earthquake. Murmurs rose again—confusion and disbelief spreading quickly—but Von raised a hand before anyone could speak outright.
"You don't need me," he said sharply, though there was no anger in his tone—only pain and resolution. "You're stronger than you think."
His gaze returned briefly to Mari then Landre before settling on Vel once more. For an instant, something unspoken passed between them—a promise or perhaps an apology—and then Von stepped down from where he stood atop the crate.
Von's boots hit the dirt with a heavy thud as he stepped down from the crate. The villagers' stunned silence lasted barely a heartbeat before it shattered like glass.
"You're no better than the Chief!" a voice rang out, sharp and accusing. "Abandoning us when we need you most!"
Vel flinched at the venom in those words, his small hands curling into fists at his sides. He saw Von pause mid-step, his broad shoulders stiffening as though the accusation had struck him physically. But Von didn't turn around—he just stood there, motionless.
Another voice joined in, fueled by anger and desperation. "Of course he doesn't care! He's got it good here—his whole family does!"
The crowd erupted into a chaotic mix of shouting and finger-pointing. Vel felt the air grow thick with frustration and bitterness as accusations flew like arrows in every direction.
"It's easy for him to walk away—he's got Lady Halen's favor now!" someone sneered.
"He's already settled here while we scrape by! What does he know about sacrifice?!"
Vel's chest tightened painfully as he glanced up at Landre, whose face was pale but set in determined lines. Her grip on her book hadn't loosened—it looked as though she might crush it if she held on any tighter.
"You're all fools if you think Oakhaven can be rebuilt without leadership!" another villager shouted angrily, turning on those nearest to him. "And you're no better for staying here! You've given up too!"
The woman clutching her children fired back with equal ferocity: "At least I'm keeping my family safe! What do you expect us to do—die for ruins?!"
The argument spiraled further into chaos—blame ricocheting between villagers who had once shared everything but now seemed ready to tear each other apart. Vel's stomach churned as he watched neighbors who'd stood side-by-side against monsters now hurling accusations with equal savagery.
Von finally moved again, taking another step forward—but it wasn't confidence that carried him now. It was something heavier… something weighed down by regret. His head dipped slightly, just enough for Vel to notice before Von straightened again and continued walking away without a word.
Landre let out a shaky breath beside Vel. "This isn't right," she murmured, her voice almost drowned out by the shouting around them.
Vel clenched his jaw tightly but didn't respond—not yet. His gaze stayed fixed on Von's retreating figure even as voices rose louder behind them, each word carving deeper wounds into the fragile unity they once had.
The crowd's cacophony of voices swirled louder, a chaotic storm threatening to spiral out of control. Vel felt his ears ringing, his small fists trembling as he glanced at Landre beside him. Her knuckles were bone-white against the leather cover of her book, and she whispered something again—prayers, maybe.
A sharp whistle cut through the noise like a blade through fog.
"Enough!" Graham's voice boomed, its commanding weight immediately quelling the chaos. The villagers turned toward him in unison, their protests and accusations freezing mid-syllable. Even Von paused where he stood, though he didn't turn back.
Graham stepped forward, arms crossed over his broad chest. His usually calm demeanor was replaced by an edge of steel that made even Vel shiver slightly.
"Lady Halen's words are final," he began firmly, his eyes sweeping across the crowd with unwavering authority. "You have three days to decide."
The air thickened with a heavy silence as his words settled over them.
"Three days," Graham repeated for emphasis, "to choose whether you stay in Elnor or return to Oakhaven. After that, there will be no more provisions. No more aid." His voice hardened further. "This area will return to military use as a practice ground under Lady Halen's orders."
Vel caught murmurs ripple through the crowd again—fearful whispers about being left without shelter or food if they stayed. He swallowed hard and clutched the hem of his shirt as Graham continued.
"For those who wish to go back," Graham said evenly, "Elnor will assist you as much as possible." He gestured toward a group of men standing at attention near the edges of the square—soldiers, Vel realized belatedly. "Security will be provided during repairs; trade routes reestablished; and lower trade tariffs negotiated for goods moving between Oakhaven and Elnor."
Some faces in the crowd softened at this reassurance, but others remained tight with doubt or suspicion.
Graham let silence linger just long enough before speaking again. This time his tone was more measured yet carried an unmistakable weight.
"Regarding leadership," he began slowly, his gaze flickering toward Von briefly before settling on Kazar and then sweeping back over the villagers. "I'll speak with Lady Halen directly about locating Chief Hansel."
Vel noticed several heads turn sharply at that name—murmurs about abandonment flaring briefly before dying under Graham's commanding presence.
"However," Graham continued without missing a beat, "this is beyond her power alone." He straightened slightly as though bracing himself for impact. "Chief Hansel is not just any man—he's a noble from Lona."
Gasps rippled through the gathered villagers again—shock mingled with bitterness—and Vel could see expressions darken all around him.
Graham pressed on undeterred: "This matter may require intervention from higher authorities… possibly even the King himself."
Graham's voice cut through the tension like a sword slicing through heavy fabric. "Until Chief Hansel is found—or until the King decides otherwise—Oakhaven will need to find its own way." He let the words hang in the air for a moment, letting their weight settle over the gathered villagers. "Whether that means electing someone new or managing without a leader, that decision rests with all of you."
Vel watched as murmurs rippled once more through the crowd. This time, they were quieter, less chaotic—a subdued wave of unease and contemplation rather than anger.
"How are we supposed to decide that?" an older woman asked hesitantly, her voice trembling slightly. She stood near the front, her frail hands gripping a walking stick tightly. "We've always had someone to guide us… What if we can't agree?"
Graham turned his gaze toward her, his expression softening slightly but still firm. "Then you'll need to figure it out together," he replied simply. "This isn't something I—or anyone else—can decide for you."
Vel felt a knot tighten in his chest as he glanced up at Von again. His father's shoulders remained stiff, his back turned toward the crowd as though distancing himself from their gazes—and their expectations.
"And if we don't choose anyone?" another voice called out—a younger man this time, his tone laced with frustration but also uncertainty.
Graham's jaw tightened slightly before he answered. "Then you'll have no leader," he said bluntly. "But understand this: without leadership, rebuilding Oakhaven will be nearly impossible."
Vel's gaze dropped to the dirt, his small hands tightening into fists. The shouting became a dull hum, the weight of his father's decision heavy in his chest. He understood now—why Von had refused, why he chose scorn over stepping up. It wasn't cowardice; it was a harder sacrifice.
Von hadn't just refused to lead; he sacrificed his integrity and pride for their family's future.
Vel clenched his teeth as realization struck him. If Von led them back, Mari would follow, and Landre would insist on going too. That left Vel—what could he do? Stay in Elnor alone at twelve? Work for Lady Halen somehow? No one would take in a child without connections or skills. If Von went back, they all would. There was no other way.
But going back meant facing uncertainty—a broken village surrounded by danger, with little hope of rebuilding without more loss. For Von, staying in Elnor was the only choice to keep them together and offer a better chance, even if it meant being branded a traitor.
Vel's chest tightened as he glanced at his father again. Von stood with his back to the crowd—a wall against their anger—but Vel saw how heavy that wall was for him to hold.
He exhaled slowly, turning away from the scene, letting Landre's quiet prayers fade. There was nothing more to do. Von had made his choice for all their sakes, and though it stung, Vel couldn't hate him for it.
Graham turned and walked away, soldiers following. The tension lingered, hanging heavy like smoke. Villagers slowly dispersed into smaller groups, their whispers a mix of frustration, fear, and reluctant acceptance.
Vel watched them shuffle toward their tents. Some exchanged harsh words; others stood silently, doubt on their faces. All bore a shared burden none seemed ready to carry.
Von approached his family, his steps steady but slow, betraying an exhaustion Vel had never seen. Whispers trailed him, sharp and accusing: "Coward." "Abandoned us." "Selfish."
Mari stepped forward first, her hand reaching out to touch Von's arm lightly when he stopped in front of them. Her expression was soft but concerned.
"I need to get away from this," Von said quietly, his voice low enough that only they could hear. He didn't look at them directly—his eyes stayed fixed on some distant point beyond the tents. "The stares… I can't stand it right now."
Landre hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly. Her hands clutched her book tightly against her chest as though drawing strength from its worn leather cover.
"Go," Mari said gently after a beat. There was no judgment in her tone—only understanding. She glanced toward Landre and Vel briefly before adding, "We'll be fine here."
Vel nodded quickly in agreement, even though uncertainty twisted in his stomach like a coiled snake.
Von exhaled sharply through his nose—an almost imperceptible sound—and finally looked at them again. His gaze lingered on each of them for just a moment longer than usual before he turned away without another word.
Vel watched him walk off toward his guard post, the whispers still trailing behind him like faint echoes carried on the wind. For a brief second, Von's silhouette against the setting sun looked impossibly small.
The three of them stood together in silence as he disappeared from view.