The journey that had begun months ago was not yet over.
They still needed to find a place to settle, one far enough from the mist to avoid future problems.
Why?
If creatures like those inhabiting that region roamed the area, and if something existed there that didn't just evaluate intentions but simply hunted, they could find the village all too easily. That was why they needed the cover of trees and to avoid any prying eyes.
...
The carriages continued on their course.
Darian, as always, hadn't lost an ounce of his energy. He watched the landscape eagerly, wishing he could climb down and walk on the grass, which looked incredibly soft at a glance.
"Why can't I go on horseback with Dad?" he asked his mother.
Elara looked at him with a smile while stroking her now prominent belly.
The doctors from Pueblo Esperanza had kept a close watch on her since they had left the mist behind. Jost performed chants occasionally, and Elena ensured nothing was lacking: water, food, comfort, and even peace of mind.
"Because your father is the leader and needs to have a broader view of the surroundings. Besides, he must be able to dismount quickly if something happens," she replied calmly. "And above all, he loves his horse Abagg far too much to leave him alone."
"I understand."
"Your 'I understands' sometimes sound more like 'Mom, what are you saying?'" Elara let out a small laugh.
"Well, I don't just judge a book by its cover, Mom."
"Ah. I suppose it's time to explain why you can't go with your father." She cleared her throat dramatically. "You see, out there, there are monsters. Terrible ones! And do you know what they eat? Guess!"
She expected to see a bit of fear, like that shown by the children on the other side of the carriage, who shrank back and clung to their mothers. But Darian raised an eyebrow and replied:
"People who exaggerate stories to scare curious children."
"In that case..." Elara lowered her head and then looked at him with serious eyes.
"H-huh? M-Mom?"
"If you don't stay here, you'll have to face your mother. Do you think you're ready, young man?"
"N-no, I'll stay here!"
"That's what I thought. Now eat some of that bread, honey."
"Y-yes."
A girl the same age as Darian leaned toward him and whispered, "Your mom is really scary."
"Yeah, Mel. Moms are the strongest." He said it as if they were sharing an important secret.
Elara, having heard every word, couldn't help smiling with quiet pride.
"Honey," a voice called from outside. It was Patrick, riding alongside the carriage.
"Yes, my love?"
"Is Darian behaving?"
"Let's just say sometimes he's too smart for his own good."
"Of course. Our son is a prodigy, and that worries me."
Inside the carriage, Darian was completely absorbed playing with his best friend, Melanie. They were building towers with wooden blocks while humming a melody incomprehensible to anyone but the two of them.
"Does it worry you that he's a genius?"
"No, not at all. Just that with so much talent, he could conquer the world. But instead, he has to grow up hidden behind the mist."
Elara averted her gaze to the road ahead.
"Well, he'll decide what to do when he grows up, won't he?"
Patrick looked at his son, then at his wife.
"I suppose so. He's like his grandfather. He didn't just inherit his hair color, but also that endless thirst for adventure."
A tear escaped before he could hold it back.
"He arrived at Pueblo Esperanza thirty years ago, and I was born four years later."
Patrick had inherited his mother's brown hair and his grandfather's blue eyes. Additionally, he shared with his father the same mole on his ring finger.
Darian, on the other hand, had gotten his grandfather's black hair and his mother's red eyes; rare traits in that region and, partly, the reason she had been enslaved in the past.
By the standards of that world, Darian's parents were considered strikingly beautiful, and he had inherited the best of both.
"It's better to stop reminiscing," he said, wiping away a tear and clearing his throat. "Darian, come with your father! Let's go for a ride."
"Yesssss!" Darian shouted, and without a second thought, he launched himself from the edge of the carriage.
He jumped into the air with total confidence. "Daddyyyy!"
Patrick barely had time to release one hand from the reins to catch him in mid-air before he landed awkwardly on the saddle.
"Are you crazy?!" he growled.
Darian let out a laugh, clinging to his father's arm.
"I knew you'd catch me!"
"You also realize your mother is going to be very angry, don't you?"
"Uh-oh. I didn't think about that."
Patrick turned his head slightly.
Elara was watching them from the carriage.
"Dad."
"Yes, son."
"I think we made a little mistake."
"We? You got me into this, son."
"Me?! You said to come! You didn't specify! How am I supposed to get on if the carriage can't stop?"
Patrick opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again.
"You have a point."
He looked forward again, sitting very straight on the horse.
"But having a point won't save you from your mother, and you know it."
"I guess not."
He sighed and stopped thinking about it.
To forget the feeling of fear caused by his angry mother, he decided to stroke the animal's neck.
"We're the same age, Abagg, and you're way bigger than me!"
Patrick smiled sideways, without taking his eyes off the road.
"Horses grow at different rates, son. Every creature has its own pace, and yours is going perfectly fine."
"Dad, you never told me how you met Abagg."
Patrick loosened the reins slightly.
"Ah. That's a good story."
He glanced sideways at Darian.
"We found him about to fall into the Great Crater, saved only by the fences we had put up. It seemed he was fleeing from somewhere. Turned out he was fleeing from Frelio Wolves."
He gave Abagg an affectionate pat on the neck.
"And it was thanks to him that you could stay calm when you were smaller. Well, you still are, but you always wanted to ride him."
Abagg raised his head and let out a long, proud whinny.
"Hiiiiiih-hihihííí..."
He did a couple of little hops, as if he perfectly understood they were talking about him, claiming his moment of glory.
"Abagg is very good. When will he get a partner, like Mom and you?"
Patrick scratched his head.
How to explain that Abagg had never shown the slightest interest, despite having had plenty of opportunities?
"Abagg's breed is, how should I put it, they don't have many offspring, okay? They live a long time and, mostly, prefer to travel."
Abagg snorted through his nose.
"So he's a lone adventurer?"
Patrick smiled sideways.
"You could say that. A free spirit."
Darian remained thoughtful for a few seconds.
"Do you think I'll be like Abagg someday?"
"A free spirit?"
"Yes."
Patrick narrowed his eyes, evaluating the question calmly.
"You could be. But even free spirits can choose to return, for someone."
"But what about Melanie?" Patrick continued. "Will you marry her?"
"Ew. Kissing is gross, Dad. Besides, Meli is my best friend."
Patrick let out a quiet laugh.
"Of course. You're still a child. We'll see if you're still saying that in a few years."
What Darian didn't know was that, in the beginning, his parents had been best friends, before affection grew and united them in a deeper way.
...
The journey continued.
From her elevated position, Nina was the first to see it. In the distance, a thick forest and, just behind it, a hill with a perfect C-shaped curve.
"Patrick," she called out, pointing to the horizon.
The natural formation created a sheltered space, as if the earth itself had decided to raise walls, or perhaps something magical. The icy winds would be blocked by the hill, and any frontal attack attempt would have to pass through a single access point, easy to guard.
Furthermore, the nearby forest offered wood, shade, and game.
"Dad, it's beautiful!"
The caravan stopped before crossing the only natural entrance. No one wanted to risk entering blindly.
The warriors Hans and Rolf dismounted first, exchanging brief glances and awaiting their leader's order. They didn't know if a nest of monsters awaited them on the other side, or something worse: another settlement that wouldn't welcome their arrival.
Patrick adjusted the reins and looked at his son.
"Son, take care of Abagg."
Darian nodded, resting both hands on the horse's neck.
"I'll take care of you, buddy. No one will hurt you."
The archers descended from the carriage and positioned themselves next to Patrick, observing the rocky slope that formed the hill.
"Lara, Nina, I need cover from above. Will you be able to climb up there?"
They looked at each other and nodded almost simultaneously.
"This is nothing," Nina said. "But we're going to need a good boost. It's very slippery down there."
Patrick understood immediately.
He crouched down and interlocked his hands.
He used Opid to boost them further.
"On the count of three."
Nina stepped into his hands first.
"One."
"Two."
"Three!"
The boost was enough for Nina to grab onto a ledge. Lara followed immediately, climbing with her help until both were in position.
"Zeldric, Lancelot, stay guarding this place. If anything tries to escape or surround us, it will be your responsibility. We don't know what we're facing, especially in unknown territory."
"Yes, sir!" they responded in unison.
Patrick adjusted the hilt of his sword and looked at his companions.
"Right. Let's go, Hans and Rolf!"
With that said, they advanced quickly toward the valley's single entrance.
Darian stared, amazed at how his father had organized everything in a matter of seconds. His eyes shone with admiration.
"Our father is an incredible hero."
He spoke to Abagg as if the horse were his own brother.
In response, the horse snorted and stomped the ground with a hoof.
...
"Hmm? It can't be..."
"Is that...?"
The archers stood motionless, watching from above.
Below, they noticed it too.
"Patrick, is that a village?"
Hans looked stunned.
And, indeed, it was. But it was abandoned.
Most of the houses were destroyed, with sunken roofs and fallen doors.
"But nothing indicates an attack," Patrick muttered. "It seems it was abandoned over time, a very long time ago. Maybe hundreds of years."
Rolf sighed in relief.
"Well, that means we can settle here."
Patrick walked a few more steps to get a better look, ignoring Rolf's comment.
The village was quite far from the natural entrance of the valley, a sign that, at the time, careful planning had existed.
The streets were paved with flat, well-aligned rocks.
In the center stood a large water well.
In the background, a church could be distinguished, different from the one they knew.
The only thing left of the entrance was a huge gate, now lying on the ground.
To one side, a gigantic stable, almost intact.
There were also two horse skeletons still tied to a post, indicating that no one ever returned to free them, or perhaps they were lame, a reason people often abandoned their horses.
"I must admit this place is tempting," Patrick murmured, scanning the site. "My wife is nearing her due date, and the cold is about to arrive."
After a considerable walk, he finally reached the heart of the ancient village. He was surprised that the grass hadn't invaded the paved road. When he approached the well, he noticed the bucket still hung from the rope.
To test it, he dropped it and pulled it up carefully. The water that emerged was crystal clear.
From inside the well, the constant sound of an underground river could be heard.
"This is unusual."
There were apple and lemon trees, a strange combination that hinted this place had once been a self-sustaining village.
There were enormous stables, an orchard surrounding most of the hills, and paths connecting every sector.
Remnants of fences and small workshops scattered among the houses could even be distinguished.
"Lara, Nina! You can come down now!"
Then he looked down at his companions.
"Hans, Rolf, I want you to check all the houses still standing. I'm going straight to the church. That place could be perfect for monsters to hide."
Both nodded immediately and split up to carry out their tasks.
"What could have happened for them to decide to leave?" he muttered. "Maybe the church holds the answers. After all, everything is almost always kept in such places."
And so, he began walking toward the church.