The Healer’s Light at Dawn

Ronova yawned as he surveyed Huina from atop the south watchtower. The wooden frame creaked softly under his feet. Beneath him, the village wall—nothing like Arnan's simple fence—was a long stack of uneven gray stones, old but solid, built up over many years by the strong hands of villagers. Huina was a small village, but the people there knew how to protect what they had.

On this cool dawn morning, the sun was just beginning to peek over the trees beyond the fields. A pink-gold light touched the roof tiles and the ground was wet with dew. Mist still clung to the far field, and the usual busy sounds of village life were missing. Most villagers were likely still wrapped in their dreams, the only noise a distant rooster's crow and maybe the soft crackle of a kitchen fire.

It was a quiet that Ronova had always loved, his time to breathe before a day's work. His old spear leaned against the post, its wooden shaft worn smooth from faithful service. He looked out past the south gate and saw nothing but forest and silent morning.

Then, a shadow moved from the main road that led to the south gate. Ronova leaned out, eyes sharp even after a long night. Shapes broke through the mist—Gilian, Herman, Arvan, and Cren, but something was off. They moved fast and unevenly, Cren especially, and as they got closer, Ronova's pulse quickened.

"Something's wrong," he muttered under his breath.

He signaled to the gate guard. "Get ready to open!"

His voice cut through the quiet—echoing across the empty path leading to the village.

The south gate—plain thick logs bound in iron—creaked open with a groan. Ronova clambered down the ladder and ran to meet the group just as they staggered through the entryway, Cren nearly falling, blood soaking his foot and trailing behind him in dark, alarming drops.

"Cren!" Ronova gasped, instantly supporting him from the other side as Arvan struggled to keep him upright. "What happened?"

Herman's face was pale, lips tight. "Alpha beast—Sabre. We need Alice and Rutina, quick."

Already inside the gate, a handful of half-awake farmers blinked as they heard the noise. One of the little children peered out the door of her house, rubbing her eyes. Across the way, the village night guard blinked, blinking away sleep as he clutched his blanket like armor.

Ronova didn't hesitate. Turning toward the heart of the village, he shouted, "Help! We need Alice! And Rutina! It's Cren—he's hurt badly!"

His voice rang out, bouncing off the stone wall, stirring more people from their homes. Doors swung wide as hurried footsteps thumped over dirt floors.

Ton, the village chief, was among the first to respond. A burly man with streaks of silver in his beard, he pulled on a jacket over his nightshirt. "Ronova, what is it—?"

"It's serious! Cren's wound is deep!"

The crowd's confusion brewed like a rising wind. From the main storehouse, two girls hurried out. Alice, her long silver hair tangled and her simple linen dress wrinkled from sleep, held a small sack stuffed with herbs. Beside her was Rutina, taller, her silver hair tied into a ponytail and face unreadable, wrapped in a faded blue dress and a shawl she barely had time to grab before running. Both still wore their nightclothes beneath, a rare sight for the prim sisters.

"Brother Cren!" Alice cried, rushing over. Without a word, she knelt at his side, digging into her satchel.

Rutina positioned herself on the open square stone near the well, motioning for the boys to lay Cren down. "Here. Quick, get his boot off."

Arvan bit his lip as he helped, careful not to jostle the wound more than needed. Blood had soaked Cren's pants and foot. It was messy, raw, and looked horribly painful.

Alice immediately produced a cloth and pressed it against the wound. Rutina, closing her eyes, took a deep breath, steeling herself as the villagers looked on, some in shock, others hopeful.

With a small swirl of her fingers, water gathered from the morning air and formed a floating ball. "Hold still," she murmured. She directed the water gently over the bloody gash. Dirt and dried blood ran away in crimson streams, leaving the wound exposed.

Ronova watched, unable to look away. Magic wasn't common here—Rutina's healing powers had become a source of village pride, their quiet miracle.

"It's deep but not life-threatening," Rutina said calmly, examining Cren's foot. She pressed her palm close to the wound, and a soft glow shimmered beneath her hand. The cut's edges puckered and closed a little, but not completely. Sweat appeared on Rutina's brow as she focused. Finally, she sagged with a sigh, her magic flickering out.

"I can only close it part way. He'll need a true healer's touch or time to recover."

Alice stepped in, deftly mixing a small pile of whiteleaf with thick yellow sap in her mortar. Soon, she smeared a thick, pungent balm onto Cren's skin. "This will numb the pain and keep away infection. You must rest, Brother Cren."

He managed a weak laugh. "With everyone looking at me like that, I don't think I could stand if I wanted." giving his thanks to both sisters, he patted Alice's head slightly.

By now, more villagers, roused by each new shout and the drama by the well, had gathered. The village square, still bathed in gold from the rising sun, was filled with worried faces. Some were wrapped in shawls, many with hair unbrushed, and one or two clutching loaves of still-warm bread, their morning routines completely forgotten.

Ton took control, his tone gentle but urgent. "Ronova, Tedy, gather the people in the hall. Herman, you and your group—come tell everyone what happened."

As Cren was lifted onto a simple wooden stretcher for further rest inside, the crowd parted quietly, making space. Tedy hustled about, rapping on doors and calling quietly so as not to alarm children more than necessary, but by now, word was spreading quickly. the hunters had returned hurt, something dangerous was near.

In the area of village hall, the morning light shone through some tall trees around the area. Benches filled with people still tying belts or munching absentmindedly at bread. The normal calm of dawn was gone—a nervous buzz hummed by every corner as the air changed.

Ton stood at the front, his strong voice calling for attention. The hunters—Gilian, Herman, Arvan, even shaky Cren with help—stood behind a rough-hewn table. Alice and Rutina, now slightly tidied, hovered at Cren's side.

Herman cleared his throat. The chatter dropped.

He spoke slowly but clearly, "We found something bad at Arnan village. Not only a wounded villager—hurt so badly he ran his head into the village wall—but there's something worse in the forest. The animals are not normal. Even the sound of birds can rarely be heard. Something unknown is certainly happening there."

The villagers shivered. Quiet, strong hands gripped the edges of benches. Herman pressed on, voice tight. "Then, before we could even return home, Sabre—a big Alpha Monster, not from this area—attacked. Cren was heavily injured in his feet. Something scared Sabre so much, even after fighting us, it ran away into the forest. It wasn't running from us."

Gasps filled the room. Women pressed their hands to their mouths. A young boy trembled, hiding his face in his mother's lap.

Ronova, feeling a cold sweat as the relief of the calm morning faded, straightened by the tall tree near the village hall. He'd led patrols against wolves, sometimes bandits, but never had he felt so helpless because of this information. The word "something unknown" coming from Herman is certainly bad news.

He spoke up, trying to keep his voice steady. "We need to double the watch, especially tonight, and stop all hunts for a while. It's not safe to go out. If Sabre came from afar… so could other things."

"That's right," Herman agreed. He looked at each of his men—tired, faces lined with worry.

Most in the hall nodded, but Tedy, who never needed much excuse to talk, shot to his feet. "But why? Why would a Sabre show up here? Don't they live past Molano, days from us?"

Silence.

Then, Tedy leaned in. "I've been listening to the merchants, you know? They say the roads aren't safe. Beasts are acting strange. Gustave passed through, told me his whole cart was nearly tipped by a group of panicked wolfy near Forestra." He swallowed, lowering his voice. "Some say something evil is moving through the land, chasing even monsters away."

Whispered conversation swept the hall, fear moving through the crowd as quickly as the rising sun.

Rutina, kneeling at Cren's side again, dabbed away the balm residue. "It may not be magic, but that doesn't make it less dangerous. We must stay together."

Alice nodded, her eyes never leaving Cren's face. "He'll live, but we must be careful. This has never happened before."

Ton tried to steady the village. "There's no shame in caution. We'll use our food stores, keep watch in pairs, and make sure everyone's safe indoors by nightfall. If anyone sees or hears anything unusual, you can come tell me or Ronova at once."

Normally, Tedy doesn't take things seriously, but even he was careful and on guard this time.

Parents hugged their children tighter. Old women whispered prayers under their breath. Even the dogs lay quiet on the floor, sensing the village mood.

As the sun climbed higher, routine tried to creep back in. Alice guided Cren to a room to sleep. Rutina, exhausted from the magic, leaned on her little sister as they padded quietly away, still barefoot on cool stone.

Outside, Ronova returned to the south wall, his hand always near his beloved sword, eyes not on the peaceful fields anymore, but the shadows of the woods.

The dawn that began in easy silence was now full of shuffling feet, worried glances, and quiet prayers—the beginning of a new, uncertain day for Huina.