The wooden door creaked softly as Kael pushed it open.
It smelled of incense… thick, warm, and vaguely sweet. The kind his Father always favored. The scent wrapped around him like an old memory. Inside, the house was just as he remembered… though somehow grander now, as if time had polished it while he was away… or is it seems like luxury now?
The floor was paneled in dark, gleaming wood, mostly covered by a carpet woven with moons and river-symbols. The front hall opened wide… a space clearly meant to welcome important visitors. A narrow hallway snaked left, leading to the backyard where Myrren once chased the crows. Shelves lined the walls, packed with leather-bound books that hadn't moved an inch.
Two wide sofas sat across from each other in the center of the room, plush and ornate. Between them, a low table cluttered with open books, scribbled pages, two half-finished cups of tea, and a forgotten ink pen. Above, a star-shaped chandelier swayed gently in the breeze coming through a cracked window.
This wasn't just a guest room. This was where Elandor Vaelwyn thought, debated… and schemed.
He motioned Kael to sit and the cushion swallowed Kael whole.
'*Gods,* I missed it so much..', Kael thought*.*
"So," Elandor spoke, folding his hands with a familiar, amused smile, "how was your journey?"
"It was tiring... Too much to be true… " , Kael said, leaning backward with a soft smile.
Elandor didn't interrupt. Just waited, eyes calm and sharp.
"Well, as you know, we were sent on an expedition. Twelve of us. All prepared… or so we thought." He chuckled, though there was a bitter edge to it. "Valemire's jungle… it was wild. Living. We ran into more beasts than I could count. If it weren't for Captain Segeford, I don't think we'd have made it."
Elandor's eyes narrowed slightly. "Hmm. If I recall correctly, Segeford's Emberlight-ranked, yes? That would explain it. Still... who else was in your party?"
Kael smiled. "Yes, you're right. Captain Segeford was our leader. Nearly your age, but with the energy of a cart bull. Stronger than one, even. I've never seen a man throw an axe like that."
Kael paused, remembering the clean arc of Segeford's swing—how it cleaved through a beast like slicing silk.
"Five of the twelve were from Segeford's squad. One Kindling, three Ashborns and the captain obviously… good fighters, all of them. Then two scholars, and two of the town guards from Valemoor."
Elandor raised an eyebrow, voice turning pointed. "And the last two? Wouldn't happen to be Silvy and Edward, would they? You didn't think you needed my permission to drag your friends into danger?"
Kael gave him a sheepish grin. "Well... we needed a medic. And a cook. And they volunteered."
Elandor sighed, rubbing his temple. "You truly are my son... always armed with perfect logic. But Kael, that doesn't excuse the risk. What if something had happened to them? You're not a child anymore. Think before you act."
"I know… I'm sorry," Kael said, eyes lowered.
The tension softened. Elandor waved it away.
"It's done. But next time, you ask."
A rustle behind the curtain. Myrren crept in, silent as always. She climbed into Elandor's lap with practiced ease, eyes already locked on Kael. She adored hearing about his adventures… especially the ones Kael made up.
"Now," Elandor said, voice lighter, "tell me everything."
---
### **Two Months Ago – Arrival at Valemire**
The bull-cart groaned as it trundled down the slope toward the gate.
"Ahh, so this is Valemire?" Edward said behind Kael. "Doesn't look like a village to me. More like a small city."
He wasn't wrong. Thick stone walls rose ahead, and iron gates gleamed in the sun. Narrow watchtowers stood like sentinels. This place was more fortified than theyl expected.
"It has to be," Kael said. "This close to the jungle? They'd be fools not to build strong walls."
Taren, a Kindling, let out a low whistle. "Still strange calling this a village. Feels more like a fortress."
The cart rolled to a halt before the gate. Two guards stood watch, eyes dull with boredom. Two of their own 'Valemoor guards' hopped down the cart and approached the guards standing by the gate. The exchange was smooth. Papers passed hands. Names were confirmed. Gestures flowed. Calculated.
Sending noble house guards instead of adventurers had been wise. Scholars and fighters were too unpredictable.
Finally, the gate creaked open.
The scent hit him.
Bread. Warm, golden-crusted bread. Mixed with sweat, dung, and dust… but it was the bread that clung.
Valemire smelled like a bakery trapped inside a stable. Bread and mud. Bread and sweat. The roads were packed dirt, imprinted with cart lines, hoofprints, and boot tracks. Four more carts were parked near the gate. Dozens of people filled the street… barking, bartering, shoving, laughing.
Shops lined the roads. Dried meat. Flowers. Fruit. Leather.
"It's definitely a village now," Silvy spoke, hopping down. Her white coat already wore the color of dust. "Though a noisy one."
"Smells more like a bakery to me," Edward added, grinning.
Silvy laughed.
Then, a voice rose above the noise.
"We move to the ruins tomorrow. Rest today. Rooms are ready at the local inn. Gather there. We'll discuss plans tonight."
They turned, as they felt goosebumps all over their bodies.
Segeford stood like a boulder draped in muscle and leather. Twin axes strapped to his back. Even his voice carried weight… it didn't just command attention, it demanded it.
Even now, after weeks under his lead, Kael still felt the goosebumps.
Segeford turned and walked toward the market, likely to scout supplies.
Behind him, the guards handed a pouch to the cart driver, who smiled and tucked it away like sacred treasure.
The rest of the group dispersed. Kael slung his pack over his shoulder. The scent of dust and leather rose with the motion. He followed the others, boots crunching into dirt, eyes ahead.
The inn would be their shelter tonight.
Tomorrow… the Ruins await.