With her vow still burning in her chest, Elira from the broken clearing and carried him onward.
---
The forest thinned gradually, the skeletal trees giving way to open fields bathed in the muted glow of the setting sun. Elira moved with careful precision, each step deliberate, her senses sharp and alert. Her dress was streaked with blood, the deep red stains stark against the dark fabric, a testament to the wounds she had endured. Micah stirred lightly in her arms, his tiny fists curling as blue eyes shimmered faintly. The weight of his True Name, Lexum Nilfheim, pulsed quietly, a tether to the power now awakening within him.
Her grip tightened just enough to keep him secure, her muscles coiled with the latent energy of Orscu. Every branch, every rustle of leaves, even the faintest movement in the distance fed into her awareness. She didn't breathe it in consciously; the skill guided her, a subtle, protective hum beneath her skin.
A fox darted across her path. Elira pivoted fluidly, undisturbed. She exhaled softly. Nothing here posed a threat yet, but she remained vigilant.
As the forest opened, she spotted smoke curling above the horizon. A village — modest wooden rooftops dusted lightly with frost, plumes of smoke marking hearths, faint voices rising on the wind. Her pace slowed, movements measured, the Shield skill rippling subtly through her arms. She scanned the settlement carefully: unarmed villagers, unaware of the danger that might lurk beyond the trees.
Step by careful step, she emerged at the forest's edge. A dog barked from a yard nearby. Elira froze for a heartbeat, letting her skill flow like water through her body, muscles and senses ready. The villagers' eyes turned toward her, wary, uncertain, caught between fear and curiosity.
Micah whimpered softly. She bent slightly, murmuring reassurance. "Shh… it's alright. You are safe. For now." Her golden-yellow eyes swept over the crowd. No immediate threat. Just human faces — cautious, inquisitive, fragile.
Every step she took was deliberate, fists subtly coiled with Orscu's latent energy, ready to act if the slightest danger emerged. But for now, the forest was behind them, and the first tentative steps toward safety — and shelter — had begun.
---
As Elira stepped into the village, the villagers' gazes lingered on her, a mix of curiosity and wariness. She met their eyes, her golden-yellow gaze steady, and nodded in greeting. "Peace be upon this village," she said, her voice low and calm.
An elderly villager, his face creased with age and weather, took a step forward. "Welcome, traveler," he said, his voice gruff but not unfriendly. "What brings you to our village?"
Elira smiled, her eyes never leaving the villager's face. "I'm seeking shelter for the night," she said, her voice measured. "My… ward, Micah, needs rest."
The villager's gaze drifted to Micah, and his expression softened. "Ah, a young one," he said. "You're welcome to stay, but we'll need to discuss… arrangements."
Elira nodded, her grip on Micah tightening slightly. "I'm willing to offer my skills in exchange for shelter," she said, her voice firm.
The villager nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly. "We'll talk to the elder," he said. "Follow me."
As they walked through the village, Elira's senses remained alert, her Shield skill humming softly beneath her skin. She scanned the villagers, searching for any signs of danger, but they seemed genuinely curious and wary, rather than hostile.
---
The elder led Elira and Micah toward the center of the village, where a small square opened between clustered cottages. Villagers paused in their chores, eyes following her carefully, whispers rippling like wind through the crowd.
"Keep your hands visible," murmured the elder under his breath, though his tone lacked true suspicion — more habit than fear.
Elira met each gaze with calm, letting her golden-yellow eyes convey both assurance and quiet authority. Micah stirred, tiny fingers brushing against her chest, and she tightened her hold slightly, her Orscu energy rippling subtly as a protective pulse. The villagers felt it, though they did not understand — a warmth that was at once commanding and gentle.
A young mother stepped forward, holding her toddler. "Is… is he safe?" she asked, voice trembling. Her blue eyes mirrored the infant's, reflecting concern.
"He is," Elira replied softly, her tone steady. "He has traveled far and needs rest. I mean no harm to anyone here."
The elder nodded slowly, glancing at the other villagers. "We will provide food and shelter for the night. But you must tell us — where do you come from, and why are you here?"
Elira considered for a moment, choosing her words carefully. "The forest holds dangers that I will not speak of here. For now, let it suffice that I seek only safety for the child and me. I can repay your kindness — my skills are at your service."
A ripple of murmurs passed through the villagers. They sensed the truth in her words; the calm authority in her voice, the way she moved, the subtle aura of Orscu protecting the child — it all spoke of someone far beyond ordinary strength.
Finally, the elder inclined his head. "Then you shall stay. But we watch carefully. If there is threat, we act together."
Elira inclined her head in respect. "Understood." She relaxed her posture slightly, though the Shield energy lingered, ready.
Micah yawned, his tiny blue eyes blinking sleepily as he nestled closer to her. The villagers, now cautiously accepting, began murmuring among themselves, some venturing closer, some lingering at a distance, all sensing the presence of something extraordinary yet benevolent.
---
Night fell softly, painting the village in silver light. Smoke from chimneys spiraled into the sky, mingling with the stars. Elira settled Micah in a small, straw-lined cradle in the largest cottage, her hands lingering briefly on his shoulders, the Shield energy humming subtly beneath her skin. She watched him, his tiny chest rising and falling with steady breaths, and allowed herself the briefest sigh of relief.
The villagers had provided blankets, food, and a modest corner for her to rest. Yet she did not sit. Instead, she moved among the rooms, her senses extending outward, Orscu weaving invisibly through the walls, the floors, even the ground beneath the village. Every shadow, every whisper of wind, every creak of timber was cataloged and analyzed. Danger would not touch the child while she was near.
Outside, the wind shifted, carrying the faint scent of something unnatural from the far fields. Elira did not panic; she merely allowed Orscu to flare briefly, a soft shimmer of protective energy coiling like liquid steel around the village perimeter. The villagers slept unaware, their dreams undisturbed by the quiet presence safeguarding them.
Minutes stretched into hours. Every so often, Micah murmured in his sleep, tiny blue eyes blinking against dreams he could not yet comprehend. Elira's golden-yellow gaze softened as she knelt beside him, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "Rest, little one," she whispered. "All is as it should be."
Outside, the moon climbed higher, casting silver paths between cottages and trees. Orscu's power remained vigilant, subtle yet undeniable, a quiet promise that no harm would breach these walls. Elira, though wearied by travel and vigilance, felt a small comfort — for the first time since the forest, the child was safe.
And for tonight, that was enough.