A dull ache pulsed through Samuel's body as he slowly opened his eyes. His limbs felt heavy, his throat dry, and his mind foggy.
The ceiling above him was unfamiliar—a wooden roof with beams running across it. The scent of herbs and cooked food lingered in the air. The faint sound of birds chirping outside mixed with the gentle rustling of leaves.
He was… alive.
His vision sharpened, and he realized he was lying on a soft bed, covered with a thick blanket. The pain in his body reminded him of everything that had happened. The battle. The flames. The Shadow Tamer.
His fingers curled weakly into the sheets.
A sudden movement caught his attention.
"Samuel?"
Elaine's voice, soft yet filled with relief.
He turned his head, and his chest tightened at the sight before him. Elaine, Marianne, and Sylvia sat beside his bed, their faces pale but relieved. Jason sat nearby, leaning against a chair with his arms crossed, his usual cocky expression replaced with quiet exhaustion.
Elaine's eyes glistened. "You're awake…"
Marianne let out a breath of relief. "We thought you'd sleep forever."
Sylvia placed a hand on his arm. "You were unconscious for a week, Samuel."
A week?
He blinked in shock, his throat too dry to speak immediately. Elaine noticed and quickly handed him a cup of water. He took it gratefully, sipping slowly as the cool liquid soothed his throat.
Jason leaned forward. "You really scared us, man."
Samuel managed to find his voice. "What… happened?"
Marianne sighed. "After the battle, we were all in bad shape. The villagers found us and took us in. You were the worst off—you wouldn't wake up no matter what we did."
Elaine gave a small smile. "We stayed by your side the whole time."
Samuel exhaled, feeling the weight of their words. He had been asleep for a week, yet they had remained by his side. He could see the exhaustion on their faces, the worry still lingering in their eyes.
He slowly sat up, groaning as his muscles protested.
That was when he heard it.
Voices. Many voices.
And then—footsteps.
The door creaked open, and a wave of people entered.
Gratitude of Drelmire
The room filled with villagers—men, women, children, all of them wearing expressions of gratitude and admiration. Some carried baskets of food, others had blankets and small gifts.
An elderly man stepped forward first. His face was lined with age, his hands rough from years of work, but his eyes were kind.
"You're awake," the old man said warmly. "We had begun to fear you might not wake at all."
Samuel blinked. He recognized the man—he was Elder Bran, the leader of Drelmire.
Bran placed a hand on his chest and bowed slightly. "On behalf of the entire village, I thank you. You saved us from the Shadow Tamer's curse. Without you and your companions, we would all be dead."
A murmur of agreement ran through the crowd.
A woman stepped forward next, holding the hand of a young boy. Tears welled in her eyes. "You saved my son. If you hadn't defeated the Shadow Tamer, he would have…" She choked on her words, pulling the boy close. "Thank you."
The boy, no older than six, looked up at Samuel with wide eyes. "Mister, you're really strong! When I grow up, I wanna be like you!"
Samuel felt his chest tighten.
More villagers came forward, each expressing their thanks. Some clutched their hands together in prayer, others simply bowed. The gratitude in their eyes was something Samuel wasn't sure how to handle.
He had fought to survive. He had fought to protect.
But seeing the real impact of his actions—it was overwhelming.
Jason chuckled from the side. "Looks like you're famous now."
Samuel exhaled and gave a small, tired smile. "Guess so."
Elaine squeezed his hand. "You deserve it."
Marianne smirked. "Enjoy the praise while you can. Knowing you, you'll rush into danger again soon."
Samuel let out a small laugh. "Maybe."
A Decision to Stay,
As the villagers finished expressing their thanks, Elder Bran stepped forward once more.
"I know you and your friends are strong warriors, but even warriors need rest," he said firmly. "You're all still recovering. I insist that you remain in Drelmire for a while longer."
Samuel opened his mouth to protest, but Elaine spoke first.
"He's right, Samuel. We're all still weak. We need more time to recover before we continue."
Marianne nodded. "The battle took everything out of us. Another fight in this condition would be reckless."
Sylvia glanced at Samuel, her expression gentle. "Please. Just for a little while."
Jason stretched. "Honestly, I'm not in a hurry to get beaten up again. I say we take the offer."
Samuel looked at each of them, seeing the quiet plea in their eyes.
They weren't just saying this for themselves.
They were saying it for him.
He sighed, then nodded. "Alright. We'll stay… for two more weeks."
A wave of relief washed over the group.
Bran smiled. "Good. You are all welcome here for as long as you need."
The Weight of a Hero
As the villagers slowly left, the room became quiet again.
Samuel leaned back against the pillow, his mind still processing everything.
He had been called a hero today.
The people of Drelmire saw him as their savior.
But as he stared at his hands, he couldn't help but wonder…
Is this what it means to be strong?
He had saved these people.
But he hadn't been able to save everyone.
He closed his eyes, the faint echo of his mother's voice whispering in his mind.
"Will we always be together?"
"Of course."
The warmth of that memory clashed with the cold reality of his present.
For now, he would rest.
But soon…
The road would call him again.
And he would answer.