To the free city

The wagon rattled along the bumpy road, the wheels creaking in the stillness of the night. Falko and Rhea sat huddled together on the rough wooden bench inside, staring out into the darkness. Anxiety weighed on both of them as the wagon trundled forward, the flickering lantern inside casting long shadows across their faces.

Both of them still felt the weight of their actions, but they knew they were already on a journey that would change their lives forever and both of them were ready to accept that change.

There were others in the wagon as well—an two old men sat across from them, two women who looked like seasoned warriors, their battle clothes gleaming faintly in the dim light. Beside them were three small children, younger than Falko and Rhea, snuggled under a blanket, fast asleep. And then there was the strange woman in the corner, her head covered by a thick, worn jacket, clutching what looked like a mage's wand.

It didn't take a scientist to know say that woman might be a mage but Falko had to wonder what would the mages look like in Sommeral. 

The treatment of mages, overseers, and elementalists varied from region to region and kingdom to kingdom. In Sommeral, mages were mostly allowed to roam freely without restrictions, but in both De Malian and Rondavalu, they had to register with the government to avoid scrutiny. In the north, however, things were much more brutal. Unknown mages, overseers, and other powerful magic users who refused to cooperate with the crown were burned at the stake, as a way to instill fear in their hearts.

Falko glanced at Rhea. Her face was pale, her eyes fixed on the road ahead, lost in thought. They had been through so much already, and now they were heading into the unknown—toward Sommeral Free City. But the weight of what they had left behind still hung heavily in the air.

The old man, noticing the silence, cleared his throat. "You two don't look like you're from around here," he said, his voice gravelly but kind. "Where are you coming from, if you don't mind me asking?"

Falko exchanged a glance with Rhea before answering. "We're from a faraway village," he said, his tone guarded but not unfriendly.

The old man nodded, though it was clear he was curious. "Ah, I see. Not many travelers from villages these days. Things have gotten dangerous out there because of war."

Falko was about to respond when his attention was drawn to the two warrior women who were speaking quietly to each other.

"…the Silvaris Empire is pressing further south," one of the women was saying, her voice filled with concern. "I heard they've already taken Rondavalu Queendom. The borders are crumbling."

Falko's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Rondavalu. That was his home, the land he considered his motherland. He couldn't help but lean in, curiosity overtaking him. "Excuse me," he said, trying to sound casual, "did you say Rondavalu has fallen?"

The women turned to him, surprised by his interest. One of them, a tall woman with short brown hair, nodded grimly. "Yes, the Silvaris Empire took it. It wasn't even much of a fight—too many of the queen's forces were scattered. It's a hard time for all the southern queendoms with one of the southern powers falling like that."

"I heard it's not even a battle. Apparently something internally happened in that queendom," The other woman, shorter but fierce-looking with a scar across her cheek, chimed in. "They've been expanding rapidly. But they haven't had any luck with Sommeral Free City. It's too well-defended, and they say the city has the strongest military force in the south."

Falko's chest tightened as he absorbed the information. His queendom had fallen, and the world seemed to be descending into chaos. "What about De Malian Queendom?" he asked, his voice tight. "Are they helping to resist the Silvaris?"

The short woman nodded. "Yes, they're providing support to fight against the Empire. But it's hard. The northern empire is relentless and strong."

Before Falko could ask more, the wagon suddenly jolted to a stop, the horses neighing anxiously. A low, guttural growl echoed from the dark forest around them, sending a chill down his spine.

"What was that?" Rhea whispered, gripping Falko's arm from the shock.

The merchant driving the wagon cursed under his breath. "Wolves! Stay inside, everyone!"

The two warrior women wasted no time, grabbing their weapons and jumping down from the wagon. They stood in front of the group, swords and spears drawn, ready to defend against the incoming threat. Falko peered into the night, his heart racing, and spotted the source of the growling—a pack of wolves, their eyes glowing eerily in the moonlight.

But there was something more. In the shadows of the trees, just behind the wolves, Falko saw a much larger figure. Its eyes gleamed with a strange, intelligent light, and it seemed to be watching over the pack.

"What… what is that?" Falko muttered, his voice trembling slightly.

The woman in the corner, the one with the wand, suddenly spoke up. Her voice was calm but firm. "It's a Sherped."

The entire wagon turned to look at her, surprised by her sudden explanation.

"A Sherped?" Rhea repeated, confused.

The woman nodded, still hidden beneath her jacket. "It's a creature that controls other animals in its territory. It sends them to attack anything that invades its land."

She paused for a moment, eyeing the wolves and the larger creature beyond them. "This one's not the most dangerous. It only commands wolves. I've seen Sherpeds lead far deadlier packs in large amounts."

Falko and Rhea stared at the woman in shock, especially as she finally removed her hood, revealing her pointed ears and short blonde hair. She was an elf. A beautiful elf at that.

Falko couldn't help but stare at her. "You're… you're an elf," he said, astonished.

The elf woman didn't respond to his statement, simply standing and stepping down from the wagon without another word. Falko's eyes followed her as she approached the two warrior women who were fending off the wolves.

"Try to control these wolves. I will try to take care of that sherperd," 

She raised her wand, murmuring something under her breath in a language Falko couldn't understand. The words sounded ancient, almost musical, yet incomprehensible. 

"Zythera nol'karis, ventharis il'quora, malkin'thar!"

The air around her seemed to hum with energy as she focused on the Sherped lurking in the forest.

Suddenly, a brilliant light shot from her wand, cutting through the night like a blade. The Sherped let out a deep, guttural growl, its eyes flashing wildly. It thrashed about, clearly in pain, before turning and fleeing back into the dark forest, leaving the wolves disoriented and confused.

Without their leader, the wolves hesitated. A moment later, they too turned tail and vanished into the trees.

The group let out a collective sigh of relief. The two warriors climbed back into the wagon, looking at the elf woman with newfound respect.

"Never knew we would be able to work alongside a mage like you," One of the women said while appreciating the experience she got.

Falko couldn't help but stare at her. He'd never seen magic used like that before.

The elf woman, however, pulled her hood back up and quietly returned to her seat, as if nothing had happened. Falko exchanged a look with Rhea, both of them in awe.

Rhea, ever curious, broke the silence. "That creature… the Sherped… why didn't you kill it?"

For a moment, the elf woman remained silent, as if she wasn't going to answer. Then, after a long pause, she finally spoke, her voice soft but firm. "I'm a mage, not a warrior. It's not my job to kill. I support the warriors. Some mages might be able to fight, but I'm not really fond of killing."

Rhea nodded slowly, taking in the woman's words. Falko, however, was still curious. "What's your name?" he asked.

The elf woman didn't respond this time. She simply pulled her hood lower over her face, signaling that the conversation was over. The silence returned as the wagon began moving again, the eerie stillness of the forest surrounding them.

Falko looked out into the night, his mind racing with questions, but no answers would come. All he could do now was keep moving forward—toward Sommeral Free City, and toward whatever fate awaited them next.