Rafael stood before the chief, glaring down at him.
The man looked back with terror hollowing his eyes. Tears mixed with blood as they streamed down his ruined face. His body trembled against the chains, every breath shallow and desperate.
Around them, the villagers were riled to the brink—fists clenched, weapons lowered but ready. They waited. Not for the chief's fate to be decided by rage… but by Rafael.
Even Sara had gathered in the town square.
She stood among the crowd, heart pounding, watching her youngest son loom over the most powerful man in the village. Shock warred with fear inside her—confusion, anger, pride, and dread twisting together. She had never imagined this. Never imagined her child could rally an entire village… overthrow its ruler… and stand as judge.
Rafael slowly knelt before the chief.
He leaned in close, his voice low enough that only the two of them could hear.
"I know exactly what kind of man you are," Rafael whispered."A man who never thinks beyond himself. A man who would kill his own children without hesitation if it benefited him."
The chief whimpered.
"You disgust me," Rafael continued coldly. "People like you—who prey on the innocent, who destroy lives that have done nothing wrong—infuriate me more than monsters ever could."
His voice dropped to a venomous murmur. "You don't deserve to live in a world filled with people who still have pure hearts."
Rafael straightened. "Rot in hell, scum." He stood and turned away from the chief as if the man no longer existed.
Rafael faced the crowd. The square fell silent.
"Today," he began, his voice steady but powerful, "you didn't rise because of me. You rose because you chose to stop kneeling."
Murmurs rippled through the villagers.
"For years, you suffered alone. You were divided. Afraid. Silent." He clenched his fist. "That silence is what allowed evil to thrive." He raised his head, eyes burning. "But look at yourselves now." Heads raised, spines straightened.
"When a village stands together—through hunger, through pain, through blood and loss—there is nothing in this world that can break it."
His voice thundered. "No tyrant can rule united people. No fear can chain those who fight as one." The crowd stirred, hearts igniting.
"Remember this night," Rafael declared. "Remember what you accomplished together. Carry it forward—because unity is not just for moments of anger. It is how you survive. How you prosper. How you become something greater."
He paused, then added firmly"This village deserves a good leader. A chief who will lead you toward greatness." Silence.
Then a voice shouted from the crowd. "You!" Another followed. Then another. "You should be chief!" The square erupted. Sara's breath caught in her throat. Vivian, Malrek, Draven—everyone stared as the villagers chanted Rafael's name. Rafael raised a hand. "I'm honoured," he said calmly. "But I have someone better in mind."
He turned and pointed. "Leif." The crowd shifted, surprised murmurs rippling outward. Leif froze. Rafael continued, "I'm too young. I don't know how to lead a village, but Leif does." He looked back at the people.
"He stood against the chief. He fought for this village when it mattered. He has suffered—and endured."
Rafael's voice rang with certainty. "He is your rightful chief." The villagers erupted again—this time chanting Leif's name. Leif looked at Sophia. She smiled.
Swallowing hard, Leif stepped forward and waved to the crowd as they cheered. The village had chosen their new leader.
The former chief was locked away—strung up by chains in the same place Leif had once been imprisoned. Days passed. His fate remained undecided.
Life returned to the village. Leif ruled. Rafael was respected—almost revered. Sara watched it all quietly, still unsure what to think of the son she barely recognised anymore. Cold. Calculating. Fearless. And yet… undeniably powerful. But deep down, she still loved him.
Leif sat behind his new desk. Rafael stood before him.
"I expect you to make this village great," Rafael said. "I'm heading to the main province. When I return, I expect progress." Leif frowned. "Why go? We could really use your help here." Rafael shook his head. "The world is too big for me to stay in one village."
Then his tone hardened. "But don't forget who put you in power." Leif stiffened. "I'll be involved in this village's administration," Rafael continued. "You may be chief—but I'll be making some calls too."
Leif said nothing. He couldn't refuse.
Rafael returned home to find Malrek and Draven sprawled comfortably around the room, the tension of the past days finally gone.
"Get ready," Rafael said, a rare lightness in his voice. "We leave for the province in three days."
Malrek's eyes lit up. "The province, huh? Do we even know where we're headed?" Rafael smiled, the corner of his mouth lifting. "Not yet. But we'll figure it out—together." Malrek laughed and suddenly lunged at him, wrapping an arm around Rafael's shoulders. "That's the spirit!"
They stumbled, nearly toppling over, both laughing like kids who had forgotten the weight of the world for a moment. Before they could hit the floor, Draven stepped in, lifting them apart with one arm each as if they weighed nothing. He shook his head, though a small smile betrayed him. "Sometimes," Draven said quietly, "I forget you two are still just kids."
For a brief moment, the room felt warm—safe. Not warriors. Not leaders. Just brothers, in a house full of life.
On the third day, a carriage arrived at the gates of their house—sent by Leif himself.
The luggage was loaded. Draven took the reins. Malrek climbed in, already grinning with excitement.
Yet Rafael lingered.
He stood just beyond the threshold of his home, eyes fixed on the road leading back into the village. To anyone else, it might have seemed like hesitation.
But he was waiting.
Then—
"Rafael!"
A familiar voice cut through the morning air.
Vivian came running down the path, her nun's robes gathered in one hand, a travel bag slung over her shoulder. Her breath was uneven, but her eyes were steady—resolved.
Behind her, Sophia hurried along, refusing to be left behind.
For the first time that morning, Rafael smiled without restraint.
Vivian reached the carriage and nodded. "I've made my choice."
Rafael stepped aside, offering her a seat.
Sophia climbed in after her, gripping the edge of the carriage as she turned to him. "I'm coming too," she said firmly. "I want to stay by your side."
Moments later, hurried footsteps echoed behind them.
Leif appeared, breathless, his expression torn between frustration and resignation. He looked at Sophia, then at Rafael.
After a long pause, he let out a quiet sigh. "Please…" he said, voice low. "Protect her." Rafael met his gaze and nodded once. "Of course." That was enough.
The carriage began to move, wheels creaking as it rolled down the road. Behind them, Sara and Leif stood side by side, watching until the figures faded into the distance. Ahead lay the main province. And with it— the beginning of a far greater journey.