Chapter 9: A Moment of Peace

Gabriel stood near the edge of the village, his piercing gaze fixed on the distant horizon. The crisp morning air carried the faint sounds of the villagers going about their routines hammers striking wood, the soft bleats of sheep, and the chatter of children playing nearby. Yet Gabriel seemed detached from it all, his tall, radiant figure framed by the backdrop of the forest beyond.

From the main hall, Bjorn and Sigrun observed him through a window. The chief's arms were crossed, his expression thoughtful. "He's been standing there for quite some time," Bjorn said, his voice low but tinged with curiosity.

Sigrun, ever perceptive, leaned closer to the window. "He seems… lost in thought. That's rare for someone like him."

Bjorn grunted in agreement. "For all his power and grace, I wonder what goes on in his mind. Perhaps we should speak with him."

Sigrun placed a hand on her husband's arm. "You're curious, Bjorn, and so am I. Let's see what troubles him if anything can."

Bjorn and Sigrun approached Gabriel, their boots crunching softly on the frost-covered ground. He didn't turn to acknowledge them at first, but as they drew nearer, he spoke without breaking his gaze from the horizon.

"Good morning, Chief. Lady Sigrun," Gabriel said, his tone calm and steady.

Bjorn chuckled, standing beside him. "You're always so formal. We're not royalty, Gabriel."

Gabriel finally turned his head slightly, offering a faint smile. "Perhaps not, but respect costs nothing, does it?"

Sigrun stepped closer, her emerald eyes studying him. "You've been standing here for quite some time, Gabriel. Is something on your mind?"

Gabriel glanced back toward the distance, his expression serene. "It's strange. I feel something approaching—not close, but not far either. A presence, or perhaps many, moving with purpose."

Bjorn's brow furrowed. "The barbarians?"

"Most likely," Gabriel replied, his voice unwavering. "They march with a darkness about them, one that lingers in the air. Yet, I am not troubled by their coming."

Bjorn crossed his arms. "Not troubled? Most men would feel fear, knowing what you sense."

Gabriel tilted his head slightly, his piercing gaze meeting Bjorn's. "Fear," he said, as if testing the word. "It is foreign to me. Why should I fear those who act without honor? Their strength is in numbers, but numbers cannot conquer resolve."

Sigrun smiled faintly. "You speak with certainty, Gabriel. But you've brought more than just strength to this village. You've given us hope, and that is worth more than numbers."

Gabriel nodded slightly. "Hope is a powerful thing. It can turn the tide of even the most desperate battle."

Bjorn clapped a hand on Gabriel's shoulder, his grip firm but friendly. "Then let us hope that when the time comes, our people will stand strong. And with you among us, I have no doubt."

As Bjorn and Sigrun returned to the heart of the village, Gabriel turned back toward the horizon, his thoughts briefly lingering on the looming shadow in the north. The distant threat, however, didn't weigh heavily on him. Instead, he felt an odd sense of calm—like a stillness before a storm.

Moments later, Astrid approached him. Her blonde hair was loosely braided, her leather tunic bearing the marks of a morning spent training. She carried herself with confidence, though her blue eyes softened when they landed on Gabriel.

"Gabriel," she called, her voice breaking the quiet. "Why are you standing here all alone?"

He turned to face her, a playful glint in his eyes. "I was waiting for you."

Astrid blinked, caught off guard. "Me?"

Gabriel chuckled softly. "Is that so hard to believe? You've been my guide, after all. I assumed it was your duty to keep me company."

Astrid placed her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes. "You're teasing me, aren't you?"

"Perhaps," Gabriel admitted, his faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Astrid sighed, though a faint blush crept into her cheeks. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"I've been told," Gabriel replied smoothly. "But tell me, Astrid, what were you doing earlier? Training again?"

She nodded. "Yes. I was practicing with my spear. If the barbarians are coming, I want to be ready."

Gabriel's gaze softened. "Your dedication is admirable. But tell me—what drives you? Is it duty, or something more?"

Astrid hesitated, her eyes flickering to the ground before meeting his again. "It's both. I want to protect my family, my village… everyone I care about. I can't just stand by and do nothing while others fight."

Gabriel stepped closer, his voice lowering slightly. "You carry much on your shoulders, Astrid. But don't forget you don't have to face it alone."

Her breath caught slightly at his words, and the intensity of his gaze made her heart flutter. She quickly looked away, focusing on the distant trees. "You're awfully good at saying things like that," she muttered.

Gabriel chuckled, his tone warm. "I only speak the truth."

Astrid turned back to him, her cheeks still faintly pink but her expression resolute. "Then promise me something."

Gabriel inclined his head. "Anything."

"When the time comes… stand with us. Fight with us."

Gabriel reached out, placing a hand lightly on her shoulder. "I promise."

The peaceful rhythm of the village was disrupted by the sound of hooves pounding against the earth. Two riders approached the gates, their cloaks dusted with snow and their faces tight with urgency. The sentries at the watchtower called out, and the gates were quickly opened to allow them entry.

The riders, one older and one younger, dismounted swiftly. Both wore travel-worn armor, their weapons strapped securely to their backs. The older man, his beard streaked with gray, approached the nearest guard.

"We bring word from the northern villages," he said, his voice firm but heavy with exhaustion. "It's urgent. Take us to your chief."

The guard nodded, signaling for them to follow. As they made their way through the village, villagers paused to watch, their chatter quieting as they took in the riders' serious expressions.

Bjorn and Sigrun emerged from the main hall, their gazes immediately locking onto the newcomers. Gabriel and Astrid, still near the edge of the village, turned toward the commotion.

"Messengers," Astrid murmured, her brows knitting together. "This can't be good."

Gabriel's expression remained calm, though his sharp eyes followed the riders closely. "The storm draws nearer," he said softly, more to himself than anyone else.