They were dismantling the camp in the early morning light, the chill still hanging in the air as soldiers moved with practiced efficiency. Kael leaned against the side of the carriage, rubbing his temples where the headache throbbed, when footsteps approached.
A soldier broke through the small crowd, eyes sharp, face dusted with grime and sweat. "Baron, the scouts say the path ahead is clear. We can move in twenty minutes."
Kael nodded, pushing himself upright. He glanced up at the man. "Thanks… uh, your name?"
The soldier hesitated, surprised. "Captain Rhys, sir."
Kael blinked, as if the title caught him off guard. "Captain Rhys. Got it. Keep me informed."
The captain gave a curt nod before slipping back into the ranks.
Kael rubbed his temples again, wincing at the dull ache blossoming behind his eyes. He'd spent half the night trying to recover what little mana he had, but the effort left him drained and sleepless. No wonder the headache was pounding now.
Kael found it funny how this oath was supposed to change everything. "Stay true to the oath," they had said, "and you'll be rewarded." Yet how was he supposed to stay true to such a cryptic oath?
Just as he thought about it, the oath resurfaced in his mind, a whisper only those who have sworn it can hear, lingering like a shadow no one can shake.
I swear to walk my path with unyielding honesty.
But what path? Kael wondered. He'd been trying, believing he was following it. But after a year of nothing but dead ends and silence, he wasn't sure anymore. Maybe staying true wasn't enough. Or maybe he didn't even know what staying true meant.
The chill in the morning air bit at his skin, pulling him from his thoughts. Around him, the camp buzzed with movement. Soldiers packing gear, horses snorting, the smell of damp earth and smoke fading.
Then they were on the road again.
The road ahead was long, and the village waiting at its end. His new home, whether he wanted it or not. Kael squared his shoulders and brushed the cold from his jacket. Maybe it was time to stop waiting for the oath to show him the way.
Winter was almost upon them.
The trees lining the path were bare, their skeletal branches scratching at the gray sky. A thin layer of frost glazed the ground, and the air smelled sharp and clean. With every mile closer to the village, Kael felt the weight of the coming cold settle heavier on his chest, not just from the weather, but from the unknown future waiting for him there.
Kael felt completely unfit for the role. How was he supposed to lead these people?
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration weighing heavily on him. He couldn't even get past the first segment of the oath.
He exhaled slowly, eyes scanning the bleak landscape ahead.
It was a region overrun with monsters, a mining village guarded by only a handful of men. Kael doubted he could protect it. He'd be lucky if he could defend himself.
A humorless chuckle escaped him. Ah, what a life.
The Count is a real jester, Kael thought bitterly.
The rhythmic pounding of hooves grew louder next to the carriage. Kael glanced over his shoulder as a lone horseman approached, kicking up dust on the worn road. The rider pulled alongside the carriage, leaning in to speak.
"Baron," the rider called, breath visible in the cold air. "We're almost there. The village is just past the next ridge."
Kael nodded, eyes narrowing toward the horizon where the faint outlines of buildings peeked through the morning mist.
The carriage rolled steadily forward, the landscape slowly shifting as the village came into view. Nestled in a shallow valley, the settlement was small, no more than three hundred souls, at the edge of the wild.
The buildings were worn and weathered, their wooden frames bowed and splintered from years of harsh winters and little upkeep. Roofs sagged under the weight of time, and patches of peeling paint revealed faded memories beneath.
A wooden palisade circled the village, but its logs were cracked and scarred, with visible damage. Here and there, rough repairs had been made with mismatched wood, a silent testament to the villagers' struggle.
Beyond the gate, people moved about with careful, measured steps; they looked thin and weary, their faces drawn from hard labor and constant vigilance. Children peeked nervously from behind doors, and the few guards stationed at posts wore expressions heavy with exhaustion and worry.
Some paused to glance at the carriage with a flicker of hope, others quickly looked away or pulled their children inside. An old man spat grimly into the dirt as Kael's eyes passed over him.
Four watchtowers stood on every side of the village, tall and squat against the gray sky. Only two held archers, their bows at the ready as they scanned the horizon.
Loose boards creaked softly in the morning breeze from the empty watchtowers, their ladders rotting or missing. Near the palisade, Kael spotted a patch of churned earth marked with fresh monster tracks, a grim reminder of recent attacks.
Kael's eyes swept over the battered palisade and the weary faces of the villagers. The village looked more like a trap than a refuge. His eyes caught a faded wooden sign hanging crookedly near the gate. The name Luminaar Village stood out in weatherworn letters, a quiet reminder of the place he was supposed to protect.
What a shithole, he thought bitterly. Thanks, Count. I'll burn down with it.
The carriage creaked to a halt in the village square, a rough clearing where a cluster of wooden buildings huddled against the cold wind. Kael stepped down, the weight of unseen eyes settling over him like a heavy cloak.
Near the center, a tall, thin man in worn robes approached, his silver hair pulled back in a tight knot. His face was lined deep with age and worry, but his eyes held a sharpness that hadn't dulled with time.
"Baron," the man said, bowing slightly. "I am Eldric, majordomo of Luminaar. We have been expecting you."
Kael nodded curtly. "Majordomo Eldric. Heard you've kept things from falling apart here."
Eldric's lips pressed thin. "I do what I must, milord."
Before Kael could reply, a young man in light armor approached, bowing low but with an eager, nervous energy.
"Baron," he said, young but steady. "I'm Sir Lucas Veyrin of House Veyrin. I was sent to serve as your knight."
Kael studied the boy, earnest, hopeful, untested, maybe a 17-year-old.
This was the beginning of a good joke, he thought, eyes scanning the scene. A mighty and wise baron, people bowing, and a knight straight out of a womb. The Count was more qualified to be the King's Jester.
Slowly, a frown appeared on his face as the thought crossed his mind.
Though Kael bore the title of Baron, he was barely older than Lucas.
Kael shot a quick glance at Lucas, then back at Eldric.
Eldric's gaze didn't waver. "The village has seen better days, but the people still hold on."
Kael forced a half-smile. "I can see that. Still standing… yeah, it's standing."
Kael felt as if his will to live was being tested. He braced himself, waiting for the inevitable: 'A monster attack is imminent.'
The majordomo's smile grew wider, as if this was exactly what he expected. He turned to the young knight. "Sir Lucas, will you report the situation to the baron?"
The man standing just behind them, likely the captain of the guard, wore light leather armor, scuffed and badly damaged. He smiled faintly, though the worry in his eyes betrayed him.
Kael's stomach sank. He didn't want to break the vow he had sworn to the Count on the first day. A day or two of rest before running seemed like too much to ask, apparently.
When the thought crossed his mind, he felt a faint tug on his oath, the first he'd ever felt. A chill in his chest made the meaning clear: running wouldn't be free.
What the..
The young knight's voice cut through his thoughts.
"Baron, the monster activity around Luminaar has been increasing steadily over the past month. We face attacks every few days. The palisade has held, but just barely. The guards are stretched thin, and the villagers live in constant fear."
He got uneasy, but after a deep breath, he continued.
"Scouts have reported fresh tracks east of the village—deep claw marks gouged into the soil, broken branches strewn along the path, and the faint, foul stench of something inhuman. A pack of shadowfangs is moving closer, testing our defenses. They are fast, cunning, and disturbingly coordinated. If they strike together, the village won't stand a chance without reinforcements.
Hunters have also reported strange howls at night, echoing from deep within the forest. Some say these are scouts, sent ahead to prepare for a larger assault."
He paused, letting the weight of the words settle. The cold wind whipped against the guards' faces, carrying with it the sharp tang of pine.
"We don't have much time, Baron," the young knight continued, his voice tight. "The tension is growing. If we don't bolster our defenses soon, Luminaar could fall."
Kael's face went pale as a cold shiver ran down his spine.
Did I just jinx myself?