Unwelcome

As the morning sun climbed higher, casting its warm embrace over the land, Bran, a herbalist known throughout the region for his healing expertise, was en route to Lumina. His cargo, a modest cart filled with herbs, potions, and remedies, was pulled by his trusty horse, Clover. Bran had dedicated his life to the study of plants and their healing properties, a knowledge he freely shared with those in need. Though he lacked any skill in combat, his mastery over healing made him a cherished ally among the villages he frequented.

Traveling along the forest's edge, Bran hummed a tune, a simple melody that spoke of his contented spirit. His eyes, ever observant, scanned the path ahead and the lush greenery that bordered it. It was then he noticed a figure collapsed by the wayside, a man whose body bore the marks of battle and the pallor of exhaustion.

Concerned, Bran urged Clover to a halt and dismounted swiftly. Approaching the unconscious man, he recognized the severity of the situation—this was no mere fatigue. The man was wounded, his breathing shallow, and his skin cold to the touch.

Without hesitation, Bran lifted the stranger with a strength born of necessity, placing him carefully in the cart amidst the sacks of herbs and bottles of potions. Though Bran knew not the man's name nor his story, the herbalist's compassion dictated his actions. "Rest now, stranger. You're in safe hands," Bran murmured, covering the man with a blanket.

Deciding that the village of Lumina was no longer his immediate destination, Bran considered where best to take the wounded man. A village known as Eldoria, nestled in a valley renowned for its healing springs and hospitable folk, came to mind. Eldoria was a place where healing was considered both an art and a sacred duty, making it the perfect refuge for someone in the stranger's condition.

Turning Clover and the cart around, Bran set off towards Eldoria, the journey ahead now given new purpose. As they traveled, Bran kept a watchful eye on his unexpected passenger, murmuring reassurances to both the man and himself. He knew that the road to recovery would be long, but in Eldoria, hope and healing awaited.

Upon arriving at Eldoria, the village greeted Bran with its usual serene beauty, the healing springs murmuring in the background, and the lush greenery swaying gently in the breeze. The villagers, who held Bran in high esteem for his healing knowledge, were surprised to see him return so soon, his journey to Lumina having been widely known.

"Why have you returned so early, Bran?" asked Elden, a village elder, his curiosity evident as he approached the cart. "We thought you'd be gone for days yet."

Bran, with a somber expression, replied, "I came across something far more important than my journey to Lumina. I couldn't turn my back on it." His voice, though calm, carried an undercurrent of urgency that piqued the elder's interest.

As Elden peered into the cargo, expecting perhaps some rare herb or injured animal, he was taken aback to find instead a man, unconscious and bearing the marks of a fierce battle. The sight of the stranger, clearly a sellsword by the look of his weapons and attire, sent a ripple of shock and fear through the gathered villagers.

Eldoria, a haven of peace and healing, had long held a deep-seated distrust for sellswords. Their place, considered sacred for its springs and the sanctuary it offered to all seeking solace and recovery, had once suffered at the hands of mercenaries. A band of sellswords, years ago, had brought violence to their doorstep, seeking to control the springs for their own gain. The memory of that turmoil, and the disruption of their peaceful existence, had left a lasting scar on the village's collective memory. To the people of Eldoria, sellswords were a reminder of a time when their sanctuary was threatened, a symbol of conflict intruding upon their place of healing.

The villagers' initial reaction was a mix of fear and rejection, their faces mirroring the turmoil of their past experiences. Bran, understanding their apprehension, quickly interjected, "Please, this man needs our help. He's no threat to Eldoria; he's a victim, just like any other who seeks our healing. I couldn't leave him to die."

As Lucius was carefully moved to a resting place, the villagers of Eldoria watched, a mix of curiosity and concern in their eyes. Despite their reservations about sellswords, their commitment to healing and compassion prevailed, allowing Bran to tend to the wounded stranger in the hope that, in time, he would not only heal but also bridge the gap between their peaceful existence and the world of conflict he represented.