It wasn't often the village had visitors.
Greywillow was small and quiet, tucked away between the hills like a secret kept by the earth.
But today, footsteps and voices carried farther than usual.
I was carrying eggs to Miss Felda when I saw them—three strangers on horseback, dust swirling in their wake.
They looked nothing like the farmers and traders who passed through.
Their armor gleamed in the sun, worn but sharp. Their cloaks were heavy with travel. One carried a sword that looked like it had fought a hundred battles. Another wore a dagger that caught the light like a falling star.
People gathered around them at the tavern—the old, ramshackle building near the well.
Curious, I slipped inside.
The tavern smelled of smoke and ale, and the air buzzed with excitement.
The adventurers sat at a rough wooden table, telling stories.
"They say the northern woods hold a beast with eyes like fire," said one, a tall woman with a scar that ran from her temple to her jaw.
Another laughed. "Bah! I've faced worse. Last month, I wrestled a troll with my bare hands."
The third, quiet but sharp-eyed, nodded. "But it's not just monsters. It's the roads, the storms, the lost towns swallowed by time."
I listened, wide-eyed.
The words painted pictures in my mind—dark forests, gleaming swords, faraway lands where danger lurked behind every shadow.
It was the first time I'd met people who seemed to live outside the calm of Greywillow, who carried power and stories like weapons.
Some villagers were thrilled, asking questions and buying ale just to hear more.
Others frowned, crossing their arms, whispering about trouble and danger.
Pa stood near the hearth, his hands wrapped around a mug, watching quietly.
Ma squeezed my shoulder. "Remember, Ember, not all stories are meant for us to live. Some are meant for us to listen and learn."
I nodded, feeling the weight of her words.
When the adventurers left that evening, the village settled back into its gentle rhythm.
But something inside me had shifted.
The world beyond Greywillow felt bigger, wilder, and more alive than I'd ever imagined.
And for the first time, I wondered what it might be like to walk on roads where stories weren't just told—but made.