Chapter IX: The Scarcity and the Cave

The air in Jamíar Éllion had grown thin with worry.

The markets — once bright with the colors of fruit and grain — now stood nearly barren. Baskets that once overflowed with bread now held but a few stale loaves. Fishers returned empty-handed. The river's flow had slowed. The wild herds had thinned or vanished into deeper woods.

The townsfolk whispered as they passed the stone steps of the keep. Their voices carried:

"What will we do? The storerooms are nearly bare..."

"We cannot starve through another moon..."

"We trusted them to keep us safe..."

Theron heard their words. Standing at the highest window of the hall, he watched the grey dawn settle over the kingdom. He saw gaunt faces, children clinging to their mothers, men with weary eyes hauling empty carts.

Theron: "Peace means nothing if we cannot feed them," he thought grimly.

That morning, Theron summoned Aurelia and Mavie to council. The fire burned low as they spoke.

Theron: "The merchants are trapped by closed borders. The river yields little. The fields are failing. We must act — and swiftly. We must send our own beyond the edges of this land. Into the deep wild, where untouched bounty might remain."

Aurelia's gaze was calm, though her heart beat quick.

Aurelia: "I will go. I know these woods — the hidden paths, the growing places. Let me lead a party. We will bring back what we can."

Mavie nodded in agreement.

Mavie: "Take my best scouts. If there is danger, they will stand at your side."

Before dawn the next day, Aurelia gathered her band: six hardy souls, skilled and sharp-eyed.

Edrik, the archer from the north, whose arrows never missed. Maren, a towering woodsman, broad as a bear and twice as strong. Risa, soft-spoken, a healer who knew every leaf and root of the forest. And three other seasoned rangers — fleet of foot, quiet of tread.

They rode swiftly eastward, past the farmlands, beyond the old borders of Jamíar Éllion, into the unclaimed wild. The wind carried the scent of moss and old rain. The path thinned, branches clawing at cloaks and hair.

"Stay sharp," Aurelia told them. "The wild remembers old things."

By midday, they found tracks — deer, wild boar — signs of life. With bows strung and blades ready, the hunters split into pairs.

Edrik and Maren stalked through dense brush, following the trail of a small herd. They moved as one with the forest, breath held, steps silent.

Elsewhere, Risa gathered ripe berries, her nimble fingers dancing through thickets. She crushed leaves between her palms, scenting for edible herbs.

Aurelia, light on her feet, climbed into the branches of a towering apple tree. Its fruit gleamed in the sun — small, wild apples, sharp and sweet. She filled her satchel to bursting.

By the afternoon, they had felled two deer, a boar, and gathered sacks of roots, berries, and medicinal plants. Their packs were growing heavy — but so too was their resolve.

They pressed on, deeper still.

Aurelia: "More. We take as much as we can — while the light holds."

The forest thickened, ancient and untamed. Here, the trees grew taller, older, their roots knotted like the limbs of sleeping giants. Sunlight barely pierced the canopy. The air was cooler, laced with scents of moss and earth.

Then —

"Edrik," Risa whispered, pointing. "There. Do you see?"

A narrow path, half-swallowed by ivy and thorns, wound between two great stones. Strange symbols — not natural — were carved into the rock. Weathered by time, yet still faintly glowing.

Aurelia approached with caution, her fingers brushing the symbols. They thrummed beneath her touch, pulsing with forgotten magic.

Aurelia: "Old wards," she murmured. "Older than this land... perhaps older than the kingdoms."

Curiosity sparked in them. Weapons ready, the party followed the overgrown path. The forest grew still, as though holding its breath.

At the end of the path, they found it — a great clearing, ringed by stone. And beyond that… the mouth of a vast, black cave.

The entrance loomed — jagged as a wound in the earth. The stone around it bore scorch marks, as if once kissed by ancient flame. The air was thick with sulfur and heat.

The party halted.

Maren's voice was low: "A dragon's den?"

Edrik's eyes narrowed. "Or something older... something that should not be disturbed."

Aurelia stepped carefully closer. The darkness within seemed alive, pulsing with unseen power. The very earth thrummed beneath their feet.

Aurelia: "No one enters," she said firmly. "We mark this place. We will return when better prepared."

Reluctantly, they turned away. But none could shake the weight of the cave behind them.

By the third day, their wagons groaned beneath the bounty they had gathered: venison, boar, fruits, herbs, roots, grains. Enough to fill the kingdom's tables again.

As they neared the gates of Jamíar Éllion, the townsfolk rushed to meet them. Joy spread like wildfire.

"They've returned!"

"Look — the carts are full!"

"Bless the stars — our bellies will not go empty!"

Theron stood waiting at the gates, Mavie at his side. Relief lit his face as he beheld the returning party.

Aurelia dismounted, weary but triumphant.

Aurelia: "The wild still gives. The land has provided — for now."

Theron clasped her arm in gratitude. "You've done more than I could have asked. Tonight, the fires will burn high, and the people will feast."

And so they did.

For many days after, Jamíar Éllion thrummed with new life. The markets brimmed once more. The people sang, children laughed again. The kingdom's balance had been restored.

Yet in quiet moments, Aurelia's thoughts returned to the cave. To the strange wards, the sulfurous air, the pulse of forgotten power.

Aurelia's thoughts: "Whatever sleeps beneath that earth..." she thought, "it waits still. And one day, we may have no choice but to face it....But... let's not explore it yet. Perhaps… just perhaps... If we leave it undisturbed, we may never have to cross its path again. If we do... something may awaken. And it could bring harm to the kingdom we've built..."

She let out a long sigh and leaned back in her chair.

Around her, books lay scattered across the vast table — ancient tomes, scrolls, maps. The tall shelves of the library towered nearly to the ceiling, their shadows stretching long in the flickering candlelight.

Aurelia closed her eyes for a moment, weariness tugging at her.

Aurelia: "Why... must life always be so difficult?" she whispered to the quiet room...

(TO BE CONTINUED)