Chapter 186: The Winds That Carried Broken Dreams
The morning in Xandria arrived cloaked in a strange mist, weaving ghostly trails between the towers and crooked alleys. The city, normally vibrant with early chatter and clanging market bells, lay unnaturally quiet, as if holding its breath before a great storm.
Fred stood on the balcony of the ancient inn where they had taken refuge. The stone rail beneath his hands was slick with dew. He stared out over the waking city, his heart a battlefield of emotions—fear, determination, sorrow.
Above him, the sky was an artist's palette of muted grays and pale blues, the weak sun smudged like a fading memory.
Behind him, the room was a messy tapestry of the night's exhaustion—scrolls strewn across the wooden table, the half-burned candle leaning in its holder, and Lilia curled on the tattered couch, wrapped in a thin blanket that did little to fight the early chill. Her golden hair spilled across the cushions like liquid sunlight, her peaceful expression a rare moment of innocence in a life stolen by war and betrayal.
Fred smiled faintly at the sight, a sliver of happiness piercing the gloom.
The wooden floorboards creaked, and Fred turned to find Nora, the lively but sharp-tongued innkeeper's daughter, entering with a tray piled with warm bread, cheese, and a chipped kettle of tea.
"Breakfast, mighty heroes," Nora teased with a wink, her freckled cheeks pink from the cold. She couldn't have been older than seventeen, but her spirit was fire. She wore a patched green dress two sizes too big, her brown boots scuffed and stained, her curly red hair bouncing with every step.
Fred chuckled lightly, feeling a brief wave of normalcy. "You're too kind, Nora. We're hardly heroes."
She plopped the tray onto the table with a grin. "Well, you might not feel like one, but the way you made Old Man Rael grumble last night? I'd say you're halfway there."
Fred laughed softly—God, how long had it been since he'd really laughed?
Lilia stirred, mumbling groggily before blinking up at them, her lashes heavy with sleep. "Did someone say food?"
Nora beamed and handed her a thick slice of bread. "Eat up. You're going to need it. There's trouble brewing today—you can smell it in the air."
Fred inhaled deeply.
She was right.
There was something different about today. A restless energy crackled through the mist, whispering promises of change and warnings of danger.
As they ate, Fred glanced at the battered old book Rael had given him the night before. It sat on the table, untouched since he had almost passed out from the visions. Its mere presence seemed to pulse with life, like a heart beating just beneath the surface.
He knew they couldn't stay hidden much longer.
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By midmorning, the streets buzzed with tension. Vendors shouted half-heartedly from their stalls, and armed guards prowled the roads in tighter formations than usual. Whispers followed Fred and Lilia wherever they walked, even though they kept their cloaks pulled low.
The market square, usually bursting with colorful tents and banners, seemed dull under the overcast sky. Fabrics hung limp without the usual breeze, and the scent of roasting meats mixed oddly with the metallic bite of fear in the air.
Fred kept Lilia close, his senses sharpened. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched.
As they crossed toward a quieter alley leading to the city's library—a towering gothic building with spiked arches and ivy crawling up its blackened stone walls—a group of street performers caught Fred's eye.
A boy, barely ten, wearing a floppy jester's hat and patched blue trousers, stood atop a cracked barrel, juggling three apples. His laughter rang out, pure and bright, a defiant spark against the encroaching darkness.
The boy tossed an apple high into the air, spun on one foot, and caught it effortlessly behind his back. The small crowd cheered, a few tossing copper coins into a battered hat at his feet.
Fred felt a bittersweet ache in his chest. Amid all the chaos, life still found a way to cling to joy.
"You're smiling again," Lilia whispered, bumping her shoulder lightly into his.
Fred blinked and turned away, hiding the sudden sting in his eyes. "Yeah... it's nothing."
But it wasn't nothing.
It was everything.
The innocence he saw in that child reminded him of why he fought, why he bore the crushing burden Rael had placed in his hands.
---
Inside the ancient library, the musty scent of parchment and dust wrapped around them like an old, familiar blanket. Shafts of pale light filtered through stained-glass windows, splashing fragments of color across the worn floor.
They walked between towering bookshelves, searching for a hidden passage Rael had told them about—one that would lead deeper underground, to records even the Elders feared to touch.
Fred paused at a shelf filled with books bound in cracked leather. His fingers brushed over faded titles—histories, prophecies, forbidden knowledge. Every word a piece of the puzzle he was destined to complete.
A loud crash echoed somewhere above, followed by the heavy thud of armored boots.
"They've found us," Lilia breathed, eyes wide with fear.
Fred's heart thundered. He grabbed her hand, pulling her deeper into the labyrinth of shelves.
Behind them, the thudding boots grew louder.
Fred spotted a narrow archway hidden behind a sliding shelf. Without hesitation, he shoved it open, revealing a spiraling staircase plunging into darkness.
"No time to think," Fred said grimly, tugging Lilia after him.
The door swung closed behind them just as the soldiers burst into the room.
---
They descended for what felt like hours, the damp air thick with the scent of mold and ancient stone. Their footsteps echoed down the endless staircase, swallowed quickly by the oppressive silence.
When they finally reached the bottom, they found themselves standing before a vast underground chamber lit by eerie blue flames flickering along the walls.
Huge murals stretched across the stone, depicting battles between winged warriors and serpentine beasts, cities torn apart by colossal storms, and a lone figure—always the same—standing defiant against them all.
Fred stepped forward, his breath catching.
The figure was him.
Or at least... someone who looked just like him.
Lilia gripped his arm tightly. "Fred... what does this mean?"
Fred swallowed hard. His voice barely rose above a whisper.
"It means my fight began long before I was ever born."
As the blue flames flared brighter, casting dancing shadows across the murals, Fred realized that everything he thought he knew—about himself, about this world—was only the beginning.
And somewhere deep within the earth, an ancient power stirred, sensing its Warden at last.
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