Chapter 37: The Night of Legends

That night, the city was enveloped in a strange, almost oppressive stillness. The residents, aware of the impending battle, gathered in their homes, in taverns, or in the small squares. There, under the starry sky of the hinterland, old stories began to circulate among the elders, as if the collective memory tried to find strength in the legends of the past.

The old man, who had spent the entire day planning and coordinating, decided to take a break. He walked to one of the taverns, where a small crowd gathered around a makeshift fire. The air was filled with the smell of roasting meat and the soft sound of conversation. He took a seat at the edge of the circle, observing the tired but attentive faces.

One of the elders of the city, known for his wisdom and for having lived through many battles, began to tell a story. His voice was deep and strong, carried by the night wind. "They say that long ago, before our lands were taken by war, there was a warrior who roamed the backlands, helping those who crossed his path. He had no wealth, nor did he have large armies, but his wisdom and experience were unmatched."

The old man listened with interest, recognizing the similarities between the legend and his own life. It was as if the story was about him, his travels, and the many lives he had touched over the years. But he knew that, like all legends, this one was also shrouded in myth and exaggeration.

"The warrior," the storyteller continued, "faced monsters that no one else dared to face. They were not just creatures of flesh and blood, but fears and despair personified. Each victory he achieved was not just a victory over his enemies, but over himself, over the doubts and regrets he carried."

The audience was completely absorbed by the story, and the old man realized that, at that moment, these legends offered more than simple distraction. They were a source of hope, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there were those who would rise up and fight.

When the story ended, with the warrior mysteriously disappearing into the distance, the old man stood up. The storyteller glanced at him sideways, as if recognizing the shadow of the ancient warrior in the figure of the old man who stood before him. But he said nothing, only nodded in respect.

The old man left the tavern and walked through the now silent streets of the city. He knew that the coming battle would not be easy, but the storyteller's words echoed in his mind. Perhaps he too was just an ordinary man, like the warrior of legend, but his experience, his wisdom, and his will to fight were what set him apart.

Upon reaching the walls, the old man found the war mage still busy with preparations. Without saying a word, the mage looked up, and for a brief moment, the two shared a silent understanding.

"Dawn will bring the true test," the wizard said finally, his voice low but firm.

The old man nodded. "And we will be ready."

And so the night passed, bringing with it a calm before the storm. The city slept, but in its dreams, the legends of the past mingled with the present reality, creating a tapestry of hope and courage.

The old man knew that when the sun rose over the horizon, the city would need all its heroes, living legends and otherwise, to face what was to come.

That night, the city was enveloped in a strange, almost oppressive stillness. The residents, aware of the impending battle, gathered in their homes, in taverns, or in the small squares. There, under the starry sky of the hinterland, old stories began to circulate among the elders, as if the collective memory tried to find strength in the legends of the past.

The old man, who had spent the entire day planning and coordinating, decided to take a break. He walked to one of the taverns, where a small crowd gathered around a makeshift fire. The air was filled with the smell of roasting meat and the soft sound of conversation. He took a seat at the edge of the circle, observing the tired but attentive faces.

One of the elders of the city, known for his wisdom and for having lived through many battles, began to tell a story. His voice was deep and strong, carried by the night wind. "They say that long ago, before our lands were taken by war, there was a warrior who roamed the backlands, helping those who crossed his path. He had no wealth, nor did he have large armies, but his wisdom and experience were unmatched."

The old man listened with interest, recognizing the similarities between the legend and his own life. It was as if the story was about him, his travels, and the many lives he had touched over the years. But he knew that, like all legends, this one was also shrouded in myth and exaggeration.

"The warrior," the storyteller continued, "faced monsters that no one else dared to face. They were not just creatures of flesh and blood, but fears and despair personified. Each victory he achieved was not just a victory over his enemies, but over himself, over the doubts and regrets he carried."

The audience was completely absorbed by the story, and the old man realized that, at that moment, these legends offered more than simple distraction. They were a source of hope, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there were those who would rise up and fight.

When the story ended, with the warrior mysteriously disappearing into the distance, the old man stood up. The storyteller glanced at him sideways, as if recognizing the shadow of the ancient warrior in the figure of the old man who stood before him. But he said nothing, only nodded in respect.

The old man left the tavern and walked through the now silent streets of the city. He knew that the coming battle would not be easy, but the storyteller's words echoed in his mind. Perhaps he too was just an ordinary man, like the warrior of legend, but his experience, his wisdom, and his will to fight were what set him apart.

Upon reaching the walls, the old man found the war mage still busy with preparations. Without saying a word, the mage looked up, and for a brief moment, the two shared a silent understanding.

"Dawn will bring the true test," the wizard said finally, his voice low but firm.

The old man nodded. "And we will be ready."

And so the night passed, bringing with it a calm before the storm. The city slept, but in its dreams, the legends of the past mingled with the present reality, creating a tapestry of hope and courage.

The old man knew that when the sun rose over the horizon, the city would need all its heroes, living legends and otherwise, to face what was to come.