Dawnhaven I

Golden fields stretched into the horizon. I watched as wheat swayed with the wind, back and forth, back and forth. The smell of damp soil mixed with the crisp scent of fresh grass, greeting me. It was a stark contrast to the deep woods I had spent this life in.

I adjusted my heavy pack on my shoulders, as my worn wooden sword tapped against my thigh. With a sigh, I continued following a dirt path winding through the farmland.

This was nothing like Havenwood.

It felt... open.

I wasn't sure if I liked it.

As I walked, I spotted a bent figure in the distance, an elderly farmer, hunched over a row of crops, his hands busy pulling weeds from the soil. His broad-brimmed hat shielded most of his face, but as I approached, he paused and looked up. He was the first person I had seen in weeks.

I saw the flicker of surprise in his expression before it softened into something more thoughtful.

"Well, now," he said, his voice rough with age but warm. "Ain't every day I see a boy wanderin' these parts alone."

I stopped a few paces away, my grip tightening on my pack. I needed to be careful. After all, I didn't know the kind of people I'd be dealing with outside Havenwood. He looked kind, but it was better safe then sorry. Kael had told me too many cautionary tales.

"Just passing through," I said evenly. "Heading to Dawnhaven."

The farmer straightened slowly, wiping his dirt-streaked hands on his overalls. His gaze flicked to my sword, to my dust-covered boots, then back to my face. He smiled at me, as if looking at a young kid.

"Dawnhaven, huh?" He let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "That's a long way for a young'un travelin' alone."

I squared my shoulders. "I can handle myself."

He let out a chuckle, deep and knowing. "Oh, I don't doubt you believe that. But tell me, son, why is a lad your age leavin' home for a place like Dawnhaven?"

I hesitated.

What could I say?

Suddenly, I felt much less important. Much less driven. I felt like a young kid again. Lost. Needing direction.

I shook my head. I may not look like it, but I'm an adult. I know what I'm doing.

I put on a poker face, glancing at him momentarily. "I just need to get there. I'm in a rush."

The farmer studied me in silence for a long moment. I could feel his eyes on me, like he was peeling back my words and looking for the truth underneath.

Finally, he sighed and nodded toward the fields.

"These lands might not look like much, but they've fed families for generations," he said, his voice quieter now. "Built homes. Kept people safe. Life ain't all about swinging swords and chasin' cities. Ah but don' let me keep ya sonny."

I followed his gaze across the rolling farmland. They were majestic, never-ending fields of golden crop. I was getting distracted. I was so close to my goal.

"I need to go."

The farmer must've sensed something in my silence, because he exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "Stubborn one, huh?"

I didn't answer.

Instead, my stomach did. Loudly.

Betrayed by my own body, I felt heat crawl up my neck as the farmer raised an amused brow.

"Son," he said dryly, "when's the last time you had a proper meal?"

I hesitated. It had been nearly a week since I had eaten the wolves.

"Come on," he said, jerking his head toward the farmhouse in the distance. "My wife's got stew on the fire. You'll eat before you collapse on the side of the road."

It was... tempting.

So tempting.

Warm food. A break. A few hours where I wouldn't have to be on edge, watching the shadows for danger.

But...

I couldn't take food for free. I clenched my jaw and shook my head. "I appreciate it. But I need to keep moving."

The farmer sighed, his face unreadable.

Then, to my surprise, he reached into a satchel at his side and pulled out something wrapped in cloth. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed it toward me.

I caught it instinctively.

"At least take that," he said. "Bread and dried meat. Won't spoil quick."

I stared at the bundle in my hands, something tight curling in my chest.

Kindness.

It was so simple, but after days of pushing forward alone, it felt heavier than I expected. His small action lightened my heart and for the first time in a while, I felt love again. My heart ached. In a good way. But also a bad way.

I swallowed. "Thank you."

The farmer nodded, tipping his hat slightly. "If you ever pass by again, you come back for a proper meal, hear?"

"I will," I said, and this time, I meant it.

Then, with one last glance at the farmhouse, I turned and kept walking.

....

The path widened, giving way to a well-worn trade road.

And in the distance, I saw it.

Dawnhaven.

The city walls rose high, stone and steel stretching toward the sky, taller than anything I had ever seen in this world. Beyond them, rooftops and spires jutted upward, reaching for the sky. Already, I could hear the faint hum of life reaching me. Traders and travelers passed by. Merchants weighed. Horses neighed. And my heart raced, my nerves frayed.

I had made it.

The closer I got, the sharper the details became. Guards patrolled the entrance, their armor gleaming in the sunlight. Merchants haggled at the gate, carts brimming with goods. Travelers of all kinds moved in and out; some dressed in fine silks, others in battered leathers, weapons strapped to their backs.

The city was alive. It was majestic. It was nothing like Havenwood.

I stepped forward, nerves twisting in my gut.

Then—

"Halt."

A guard blocked my path. His armor clinked as he shifted, his gaze sharp, assessing.

He studied me, his eyes flicking to the wooden sword at my hip, the dirt on my clothes, the way I carried myself.

"What's your business in Dawnhaven?"