At dawn, the sunlight began to creep into the villagers' houses, whose wood had rotted and clay had cracked under the heat.
The only sound breaking the silence of the village was the chirping of birds on the branches of the large, bare trees surrounding it, consisting of five scattered houses, with the Council of Elders at the center, above which fluttered a black flag depicting a dragon coiled around a white sheaf of wheat.
As the morning began, the villagers immersed themselves in their work, gathering summer crops and firewood, their thin faces and bodies covered in dust.
One of the villagers, Arif, stopped working when he saw from afar six knights carrying the royal banners—a red flag with a dragon coiled around a white sheaf—patrolling not far from the village. Arif dropped his sickle and ran, shouting among the villagers working:
"The armies of Valin are coming!"
One of the village elders, the old Zarvan, rushed to Arif, knelt on his knee, and grasped his hand, fear overtaking him, whispering in his ear:
"Be quiet, or the villagers will panic." He patted his shoulder and walked away toward the Council Hall.
Silence fell over the village as Zarvan ordered the work to continue and instructed any fires in the chimneys to be extinguished.
Arif left his work and went to observe the soldiers, waiting for any move from them. After a few minutes, the knights began to leave, and Arif felt reassured.
He stood to inform the villagers, and as he straightened and brushed the dust off himself, he noticed that one of the chimneys was still smoking. He heard one of the knights call out loudly:
"Hey, man! Stop there."
Arif turned to see six horses pounding the ground with their hooves, kicking up dust behind them at full speed. He instinctively clutched his hands, then ran toward the Council Hall, pushing the door with his trembling hands, shouting in fear:
"They're here!"
Zarvan remained silent, his eyes scanning the villagers with a look of disappointment, then whispered to Arif in a sorrowful voice:
"You have failed to save the villagers, and I must face this alone."
"What do you mean?" Arif asked.
Zarvan stepped toward the door and saw Arif's trembling hand opening it. Arif moved toward the exit, leaving the room, but his attention was caught by the chimney still spewing smoke.
Arif's eyes widened as he realized what the old man intended. He went out to the village square and saw the villagers gathered at the entrance.
Arif approached and found the frail, hunched-over elder leaning on his staff, standing before a soldier with black hair, a scar cutting through his eye covered with a leather patch.
The soldier spoke, glaring at the elder with mockery:
"Don't you have men in this village to face me, that an old man stands instead?"
The soldiers behind him laughed, hands on their swords. One of the villagers whispered to Zarvan: "Wise one, let me speak to them instead of you."
The elder raised his hand, signaling the villager to be silent.
"What brings the king's soldiers here?" the elder asked the man.
The soldier replied, "Haven't you heard the news? They were unlucky at the battle of Arger Castle, and we impaled their heads on spikes."
Blood ran cold in the villagers' veins, their faces paling. Arif rushed forward, asking:
"What about Bel the Rebel?"
The soldier replied mockingly: "He fled when he saw the legitimate king enter the war."
Then the man stared at Arif for a long moment, his eyes widening:
"You are the one who ran when I called you."
Arif stepped forward, pushing the old man, until he grabbed him by the collar and lifted him:
"Why did you run when I called you? Speak, villager, you are forgiven!"
"We feared you might be the rebels; they steal our crops," the old man said.
The man released Arif, who fell to the ground, and walked toward the elder, addressing him in front of the villagers:
"I will return once my guard duty at the castle is over."
"Sir, look there," said one of the soldiers, pointing to the flag atop the Council Hall.
The elder quickly turned to Arif:
"Go to Arger Castle! The village's life depends on you."
"What about you?" Arif asked.
The elder replied, "Do not worry about me. I was sentenced to death when I accepted raising the rebels' banners."
Two soldiers seized the elder and placed his head on a rock for their commander to execute him. The commander drew his large sword and severed the elder's head.
Chaos engulfed the village.
Arif did not leave as Zarvan had asked, but stayed, watching the soldiers kill the villagers one by one until his turn came, as their heads were impaled on spikes alongside the traitors from Arger Castle.