Chapter 9: Arrival at the Village

The village looked peaceful from a distance, with its small adobe houses scattered across the dry terrain. The old man and the young man walked side by side, slowly approaching. As they got closer, the old man noticed the wary looks of the inhabitants, who appeared at the doors of their houses, curious about the presence of the strangers.

As soon as they entered the village, an elderly woman, her face marked by time, came forward and greeted them with a wave. "Welcome," she said, her voice hoarse but warm. "What brings you to this forgotten corner of the world?"

The old man, with a gentle smile, replied: "We are just passing through, seeking rest and perhaps a few stories to share."

The woman nodded, understanding. "We have stories, yes, but not all of them are easy to tell. The war has hit us, and many of us are still healing the wounds."

The young man, who had remained silent until then, finally spoke: "We too carry our own wounds. Perhaps we can find some solace in sharing ours with yours."

The woman looked at him with empathy and motioned for them to follow. "Come, let us sit in the shade. The road is long, but here you will find shelter and listening ears."

The old man nodded and together they followed the woman, ready to listen and tell the stories that fate had in store for them.