Village
The village:
Inside a house long abandoned, a young man sat inside with his back leaning against the cold wooden wall while he loosely clutched a crossbow in his arms.
He had short wavy black hair, freckles decorated his face and a bit fat clung to his cheeks.
He was Rowen and he was tasked with guarding their food supplies.
They chose the house closest to the exit and voted on who should be the one guarding their stuff and naturally everyone pointed at him.
He was the youngest after all.
'A day, that's the time limit.'
If they don't return within a day then he should head back and report.
And if the sound of a whistle was blown, he should run without looking back.
Precautions that Gerald himself thought up of and a genius one at that.
A waterpouch layed by his side, thirst gripped his throat and forced him to pick it up.
He poured the water into his mouth, gulping down the entire water stored inside within a single shot.
The cold atmosphere made him shiver and the only source of light was the sunset that passed through the wooden window.
He would close it soon when it gets dark, the candles they brought would be the only source of light remaining.
Eerie and creepy.
Just how Rowen liked it.
'I wonder if they met any difficulties.'
Although he liked the fact that they were going on a search related to the supernatural, he was still worried about his companions.
He thought about the possibility.
'Gerald would handle it.'
A sentence spoken by many.
Atleast once have this sentence been uttered by them.
And what if he can't? What if it was too much for him?
'Gerald would handle it.'
It doesn't matter if it's too much for him, he would handle it.
Rowen stared at the fading light, darkness crept through the corners of the house.
He sighed, picked up a piece of wood burning at the fireplace and lit the candles which was spread throughout the house.
He approached the window, a cold breeze passed inside which flickered the candles but they stood strong.
He stared into the distance, the farmers leaving towards their home after a long day at work with their kids, their smiles of struggles yet happiness made him feel warm.
The people intentionally avoided getting close to the village he stayed at, which he was thankful for, they didn't want any mishaps involving the innocents during their search.
He stayed there for a long time, staring into the distance as the sun disappeared into the horizon and thus came the coldness of the night together with its darkness.
He sat back at his usual spot, his armor clinking against the wall, the eerie atmosphere awakened something in him.
An excited smile crept its way into his face.
The isolation, the gripping atmosphere and the unforseen danger, they all made adrenaline course through his veins.
After all he was a fan of the supernatural and the excitement he received from this was never experienced by him.
He thought back to the days in the slums, he along with his friends explored the graveyards at his persuasive request and the little hotheaded Cassian also followed behind them.
Although he was fascinated by the supernatural, he was still frightened by it.
These two conflicted emotions gave him life like no other emotions could.
His grip on the bow tightened as these emotions wrapped around his heart.
********
The village was dead silent, the darkness swallowed it whole and no signs of life could found inside it.
In the darkness of the night, a small ball of light illuminated it, a man held a lantern in his hand while another followed him.
Gerald was a gruffy man of high stature, he had ginger hair and a thick ginger beard.
Following him closely behind was Cillian, Cassian's brother and the second silence of the night made them silent too.
Gerald sighed, he and his companions were chosen due to his trustworthiness and he felt he was to blame.
The frustration of responsibility made his bones weak.
The pressure of trustworthiness was no joke.
'Gerald would handle it.'
He detested that sentence.
That single sentence gave him inexplicable pressure.
Being a leader might've seemed honorable and respectable but the pressure given by it would make anyone buckle.
If Gerald had a chance, he would've been a sheep rather than the herder.
During his time as a naive and immature lad,
He took on the responsibility and made himself as a leader to the immature children who joined the knight order training to put food on their tables unlike the honorable reason they told others.
That decision brought him despair over time.
His comrades, his superiors, they all saw him as a machine of trust.
Not a fellow human with flaws but a perfect human instead.
Although he seemed healthy physically, the mental strain was insane.
Maybe that's why he respected Cillian the most, he was willing to overlook his failures and accept him as himself.
It was a breath of relief.
If someone like Cillian didn't exist he would've have collaps..no he would be the same.
His description of responsibility and pressure may seem like despair and although it is the truth it doesn't mean he hadn't gotten used to it.
Gerald was no stranger to pressure.
It motivated him to stand up by himself but he knew it could also be his downfall if he blundered.
It was waiting for him to fail so they can devour him whole.
"So.."
He looked back, there was no one in sight but the clunking footsteps made sure that Cillian was following him.
"I heard about Cassian."
He was going to ask the question no one dared to ask Cillian, the whereabouts of Cassian.
Cillian understood Gerald's approach and answered his curiosity before Gerald could pose a question.
"His corpse hasn't been found."
The detached tone of Cillian might make anyone believe that the relationship between the brothers were strained.
But Gerald who had known them since he could remember knew, that Cillian had undying trust in Cassian.
Gerald hummed in agreement, their conversation was kept short, it was better to be quiet during an exploration of unknown danger.
He thought back to his plan, although it wasn't a foolproof plan it was still decent.
He and Cillian went one way while Joseph and Ronald searched the other.
Rowen was guarding their supplies and he was the only weak link.
If he was attacked it meant that their enemies were closing in from the exit and surrounded them.
Like I said it was waiting for Gerald to slip.
But Gerald was no stranger right?
At first he survived the pressure but now?
He was taking small steps to thrive on it.
-whistle-
A whistle blew from the distance, it made him stop with a frown.
He froze, the darkness crept in from his surroundings, maybe he failed? Maybe the pressure broke him?
It came from area where Joseph and Ronald was sent to explore.
But the frown loosened from his face when he listened closely.
It wasn't a whistle of danger.
He turned back and whispered to Cillian who was covered by darkness, "It seems like they discovered something."