We entered the swampy town known as Mørrïson.
The air was thick with fog, heavy with the scent of damp earth and water.
Water pooled along the uneven wooden walkway, and each step splashed softly under our boots. Wooden houses stood on stilts. Lanterns hung from ropes stretched between homes.
Elliot led the way on his wagons. "It's not much," he said, looking over his shoulder with a grin, "but it's home to more than just humans. You'll see."
As we walked, I noticed the people staring. Some had the long, sharp ears and faintly pale skin of elves with their eyes glowed faintly.
Others had scales along their necks or tails that swished behind their cloaks—the lizardfolk.
Between them were humans with weather-worn faces and guarded eyes.
That's right, I'm truly in a fantasy world.
Elliot gestured toward a small bridge crossing a murky stream. "The lowblood elves live around this side. Most of us work as traders or herbalists. The lizardfolk handle the swamp routes—they're the only ones who can navigate those waters without getting lost."
His voice carried a hint of pride, and I could tell he loved this place despite how fragile it looked.
The path curved toward a cluster of houses made from dark timber. He stopped in front of one with a crooked roof and a hanging lantern shaped like a leaf. "Here we are," he said, pushing open the door. "Make yourselves at home."
---
Inside, warmth greeted us immediately. A small fire crackled in the hearth. The furniture was mismatched but cozy—a patched rug, a few wooden chairs, and shelves stacked with glass jars full of herbs and strange powders.
Mom sighed softly as she entered and sank onto the couch, exhaustion plain on her face. Looks like exhaustion finally took her, she strong for even trying to endure it for long.
Elliot smiled gently. "Rest. You look like you've walked through half the world."
He turned to me. "Come on, Simon. Help me with dinner."
I followed him into the small kitchen. It was dim, but neat. He filled a pot with water and began cutting vegetables while I fetched bread from a basket.
"So," I said after a moment, "why help us? You didn't even know who we were."
He chuckled softly. "My mother used to say that kindness doesn't need a reason. She told me to help anyone in need, no matter what they looked like or where they came from. I guess her words stuck."
He stirred the pot slowly, the smell of stew filling the room. "Besides," he added, glancing at me, "you two looked lost. And lost people are easy to prey for anyone with a tainted heart."
I didn't know what to say to that. I just nodded and kept helping.
So far, he seems trustworthy and I don't get a malice feeling from him... but rather l know one thing.
For some reason, I can tell he is angry underneath his smile.
When the food was ready, he carried the pot to the table, and I followed with the bread and bowls.
---
Dinner was simple but warm. The stew was thick and savory, the kind of meal that reminded me what comfort felt like. I watched as Mom ate quietly, given how much she smiling when eating, tells me she is at peace.
Elliot lifted his hand and whispered something under his breath.
A golden orb above our heads. The orb began to shed golden teardrops that touched both Mom and me.
The ache in my shoulders faded. The soreness in my legs disappeared. I felt lighter again.
Mom blinked in surprise. "You didn't have to—"
Elliot smiled. "You two needed it. Just a little healing spell. Nothing fancy."
I stared at him, eyes wide. "That was magic?"
I wonder how many different varieties of magic are there.
He paused, a little confused. "You mean… you've never seen a healing spell before?"
Before I could answer, Mom spoke quickly. "Simon." Her tone was firm, almost warning. She gave me a look that told me to stay quiet.
What's up her? Doesn't she want to me learn magic or even be curious about it.
Elliot noticed the tension but said nothing. Instead, he smiled awkwardly. "Well, I'll tell you all about it when you're older, yeah?"
I nodded, though curiosity burned in my chest.
---
When we finished eating, Elliot cleared the table while Mom thanked him properly.
"You've been very kind," she said sincerely. "We won't forget this."
Elliot dried his hands and turned to face us. "You can stay as long as you need to. But there's something you should know."
The warmth in his tone faded slightly. "Mørrïson isn't as peaceful as it looks. The Dirt Raiders have been moving through these parts again."
Mom frowned. "Dirt Raiders?"
He nodded grimly. "A bandit gang made up of lizardfolk and a few deserters from the southern tribes. They destroyed the church at the edge of town last spring. Now they roam the swamps, taking whatever and killing anyone that isn't a lizardfolk—especially humans."
Silence filled the room. The fire crackled softly, and I could hear the faint croak of frogs outside.
"You understand the dark history humans had committed in the past," Elliot continued. "Their founding members are survivors of the Cleansing birthday bash."
Cleansing birthday bash? When and what happened on this day.
Mom's hand trembled. "I see…"
Just by hearing it, she became shaken and sweating.
"I know it's risky," he said carefully, "but if you stay too long, they'll notice you. I've been planning a trip to Galasun, past their territory. Two months from now, I can sneak you both out with the merchant caravan. It's safer than traveling alone."
Mom thought for a long moment. Then she nodded slowly. "All right. We'll stay until then."
Elliot smiled faintly, relief washing over his face. "Good. I'll make sure everything's ready when the time comes."
As the night settled, the sound of rain began to fall outside.
So far, this was world is filled with mysteries waiting for someone to unravel them.