The rattling of carriages was the only sound breaking the morning silence.
The villagers had prepared carriages designed to shield them from the cold.
Since their numbers were few, they did not need much equipment, and given the route they were taking, game for hunting was plentiful.
The only things they had to worry about were monsters, bandits, and the freezing temperatures.
"Mom... is it much farther?"
Young Darian peeked out from under the canvas.
Only four carriages had walls and a roof to completely seal them off from the outside.
These carried the pregnant women and the children.
Lilyth was a tough old woman, so she refused to hide beneath the canvas. On the contrary, she rode up front with Patrick. She had once been a great swordswoman.
"Yes, son. We only left two days ago." Elara pulled her son close and sat him beside her.
"But Mom, that is a loooong time!" he protested.
"Hush now, Mrs. Silvina needs to rest. Her belly is bigger than mine."
Darian looked at the woman.
"It is true, her belly is bigger. Did I come from there, Mom? From your tummy? You must have looked funny." He covered his mouth to giggle.
"Yes, you were so tiny... and now another life is growing too. Are you going to be an excellent big brother?" She stroked her son's head, tucking him into her side.
Darian thought about it for a few seconds.
Take care of his little brother?
Of course! he thought, though he still feared he might be a terrible brother.
"Yes, Mommy, I will protect him from everything. I promise!"
"Never make promises like that. Just say you will try."
"I will try!"
Darian hugged his mother and finally fell asleep.
Silvina watched them with a smile.
"You have a very energetic son, my friend. I hope my child is the same," she said, looking at her own belly. "I am a bit nervous. It is my first time being a mother. What if I am bad at this...?"
"Believe me, I was bad too because of my nerves, but I raised an incredible boy. The important thing isn't being perfect, but loving them. That is more than enough."
Since their departure, two full moons had passed.
In other words, a month had gone by.
The people had already adapted to the nomadic life.
The strongest men—Patrick, Hans, and Rolf—stood out among the rest. Their skill with the sword was incredible, and they were capable of taking down any monster that approached, especially the Crimson Wolves.
"Graaaawr."
That was the roar that marked the beginning of an attack.
With white fur streaked with red spots, and eyes to match, those beasts were intimidating to any normal person. But for Patrick, they were nothing more than a walk in the park.
After all, his father had been far more fearsome than any of those monsters.
As for food, the meat from those very wolves turned out to be surprisingly good.
However, the real challenge lay elsewhere: keeping the little ones seated inside a box all day long until night fell and they decided to make camp.
"Mommy..." Darian was kicking his legs for the twelfth time that day. "Are we there yet? When will my little brother be born? Can I talk to him while he's in your tummy? Can I teach him to fight? What if he doesn't like me?"
"Son, breathe. One question at a time."
Darian obeyed, though he exaggerated as a child of his age would.
Elara laughed at this.
Elara was only in her fourth month of pregnancy, and although her belly was starting to show, it wasn't yet that prominent.
"Mommy, you eat a lot, don't you?"
"Why do you say that, my love?"
"It's just that... well, your tummy is getting bigger and bigger!"
"Oh, my little one. It is your little brother growing inside my belly..."
Little Darian leaned in and gave her belly a slobbery kiss.
"Little brotheeer, can you hear meee? I'm your big brother. Come out of there, you must be really hot! Now I understand how it feels to be trapped!"
"He is still too small for that, my love. You must wait."
"Waiting is for the weak, that's what Dad always says! I was never thaaat small...! Look at me, I'm a giant, Mom!"
"You were very tiny, and you still are."
Outside, meanwhile, the men were drinking a bit of wine.
The village used to make its own wine, and they still had reserves stored. It was obvious they weren't going to waste it. Besides, they needed to allow themselves these small escapes.
They were not the only warriors.
There were also two archer sisters with chestnut hair: Lara and Nina. Their vision was like that of a hawk. They had an incredible ability to see great distances, even at night or amidst the fog.
There were also two mages: Zeldric and Lancelot.
Specialized in offensive and support magic, they had the capacity to both attack and defend, as well as serve as physical buffers. Lancelot handled the healing aspect more.
Then there was the best cook of Esperanza: Saldry.
Saldry was someone with a kind smile who treated cooking with devotion even in the middle of nowhere. Thanks to him, meals were always enjoyed, and although sometimes everyone was tempted for hours by the aroma wafting from the stew, it was clear that at dinner, everyone would feast.
The healers: Elena, Jost, and Lilyth.
Elena followed Lilyth's teachings, and Jost had already been learning before his mother decided to leave for the capital, abandoning him in the village.
Despite that, he was adopted by the Sister and lived much of his life in the church, which allowed him to deepen his knowledge of the art of healing, especially in childbirth—a situation always difficult in a place like this.
And now, he and his team would play a pivotal role.
Silvina was going into labor.
It happened during one of the camps, under a sky full of stars.
"Honey? Are you okay?" Her husband shot up. "Did something happen?"
Silvina's face was covered in sweat, and she looked at him with pain reflected in her eyes.
"Marco..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "I think... it has started..."
Marco exited the carriage, nearly tripping over the blankets.
"Lilyth! Elena! Jost! Please!"
The camp, which just seconds before had been sleeping in silence, woke with a start. Lanterns were lit, water was heated, and the canvas flaps were tied tight to protect the interior from the night cold.
Inside, Jost worked with speed and calm. The instructions were firm, the breathing guided, and time seemed to move slower than usual.
Outside, Marco paced in circles around the tent, completely desperate, wringing his hands, not knowing what to do.
For his part, young Darian held his mother's hand and rubbed his eyes with the other. Although curiosity kept him awake, sleep was winning.
Beside him, the other children ended up doing the same as Darian; a collective response that only children were capable of.
The screams were impossible to muffle, and that drew the monsters in.
Therefore, the warriors stood ready, protecting the tent until everything was over. Of course, those beasts had no capacity for reason, so they would not retreat at any moment: they would fight until not a single one remained.
Fwip! Thwack!
Arrows whistled through the air before embedding themselves.
Schwing! Splat!
Swords sliced through flesh as the beasts fell onto the grass.
Grrraaar! Raaagh!
Roars mingled with hurried footsteps and hushed orders.
Thud! Crack!
Bones snapping.
And, amidst all that, the freezing wind continued to blow as if nothing were happening.
...
A few hours had passed since labor began.
The wolf attacks had ceased.
However, the real fight was happening inside that tent, making the battle outside look like a walk in the park.
"She is losing too much blood!" Elena was desperate, trying everything she could.
Jost, however, was ready to do the one thing he had learned in the church.
He closed his eyes and focused on Silvina.
"Oh, Goddess of Fertility, bring with you peace and the arrival of the firstborn. Purify this spilled blood, close the unseen wound, and return breath to the one who must still live. May your invisible hands hold her womb, may your light run through her veins, and may pain be transformed into life. Allow the mother to remain and the child to arrive. Just as the seed breaks the earth to see the sun, let this birth break the darkness. Hear our plea, guide this moment, and do not turn your gaze from her. Healing!"
A golden light burst from the palm of his hand.
It was not a particularly powerful spell, for it required an enormous amount of mana and Jost did not possess that much. Even so, it was enough to stop the hemorrhage and prevent the worst.
Elena seized the moment.
"Now, Silvina! One more time!"
One last effort, a stifled scream... and then, the most awaited sound of the night:
The cry of a newborn filled the tent.
For an instant, no one spoke.
Silvina fell back, exhausted, tears sliding down her cheeks as Elena placed the little one in her arms.
"It is a girl..." Silvina whispered, visibly drained but overflowing with happiness. "Her name will be Lyra..."
Lyra was born.
A hope in the middle of nowhere.