CHAPTER 25: When Roads Rest and Hearts Remember

"Not every fire is forged in battle—

Some warm the soul with nothing but laughter."

The dirt path curved gently through hills wrapped in gold. Morning sunlight filtered through the trees like soft music, and for once, no shadow followed the group. Ashix led the way with steady steps, Naru at his side, sniffing the breeze. Marini hummed an old forest tune, braiding wildflowers into her hair, while Elira trailed slightly behind, her eyes scanning the landscape with a growing sense of familiarity.

As they crossed a narrow stream and ascended a ridge, Elira suddenly slowed. Her breath caught. Ahead, nestled in the valley below, was a village of stone and wood—humble homes wrapped in climbing ivy, smoke curling from their chimneys, and the scent of roasted herbs floating on the breeze.

"Wait," she whispered, her voice trembling with something old and buried. "I know this place."

Ashix turned, brow raised. "You do?"

She nodded slowly. "Rendell. My mother used to bring me here before… everything. We stayed with family. I—" Her voice faltered. "I never thought I'd see it again."

Marini placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Then maybe fate brought us here for more than just rest."

They descended the hill in silence, the air around them oddly warm, peaceful. Children laughed from behind fences, chickens clucked from coops, and old men smoked pipes beneath whispering trees. The village didn't feel like a place ready for war. It felt like a memory.

A woman tending to her garden looked up as they approached. Her eyes fell on Elira—and widened in disbelief. She dropped her watering can.

"Elira?" the woman gasped, stepping forward. "By the stars—Elira Faelin?"

Elira blinked, her lips parting. "Aunt Seya?"

The woman rushed forward and threw her arms around Elira. "We thought you were lost! When the capital fell… when they took the tower…"

"I escaped," Elira whispered, her voice tight. "I never made it back."

Seya pulled back to look at her, tears brimming in her eyes. "You're safe now. Come, all of you—come in."

They followed her through a wooden gate into a cozy stone house filled with dried herbs, colorful fabrics, and warmth. A bearded man—Seya's husband, Jorn—was called in from the fields. He was strong and hearty, his laugh echoing through the house when he recognized Elira.

Soon, bowls of steaming stew were placed before them. Fresh bread, berry wine, smoked meats and vegetables filled the table. Elira barely ate at first, still stunned by the sudden comfort, but the others dug in like hungry wolves. Marini moaned at every bite. Even Ashix smiled after his third bowl.

That night, they sat around a small fire in the backyard under a canopy of stars.

Seya told stories of Elira's childhood—the way she used to sneak pastries, climb the fig trees, or pretend to cast spells with a stick. Elira laughed, cheeks flushed. Marini clapped and cheered when Seya shared the time Elira fell into a well trying to rescue a cat.

Even Ashix laughed when Jorn began mocking Elira's old dramatic spells, waving his arms and chanting nonsense.

"Behold! By the mighty winds of Aeleen, I command thee to float—oh no, not again!" he cried, pretending to slip.

Laughter filled the night. It was the kind of laughter that ached the stomach. The kind they hadn't felt in a long time.

Later, Marini and Seya danced to a drum Jorn played, while Naru chased his own tail like a wild pup. Ashix sat watching, arms crossed, but his eyes were relaxed—glimmering with a peace that rarely visited him.

Elira found herself staring at him once. Not in the way of warriors watching allies, but as someone watching a friend they almost lost. She quickly looked away.

They spent three days in Rendell.

Day one was for sleep. Deep, uninterrupted sleep on soft beds with warm quilts.

Day two was for play. Elira helped the village children craft little wooden swords. Marini taught them how to flip berries into baskets without using their hands, and lost every time. Ashix... well, Ashix was dragged into a fishing contest by Jorn and accidentally caught the biggest fish. It nearly dragged him into the river.

By the third day, they knew they had to leave.

Jorn handed Ashix a leather satchel filled with dry rations, a waterskin enchanted to stay cool, and a small compass that always pointed north. "You'll need this where you're going," he said.

Seya gave Elira a woven pendant. "It's your mother's," she said gently. "She left it here before she disappeared."

Elira held it tight, nodding silently, her throat thick with gratitude.

Marini was gifted a pouch of powdered root spice—good for fires, healing tea, and seasoning. She grinned. "This will save my cooking," she declared, earning a smirk from Ashix.

Before they left, the village gathered to see them off. Children waved small flags made from old cloth. Jorn clasped Ashix's arm. "You've got a strong light in you. Don't let it burn out."

Ashix simply nodded. "Thanks. For everything."

As they stepped back onto the winding road, with the sun behind them and the mountains ahead, Elira looked back once. The village faded behind trees and mist—but the warmth it gave would follow them.

"Feels like we've been given a second wind," Marini said, adjusting her pack.

"We'll need it," Ashix replied. "Kael's still out there."

"And so are we," Elira added, her fingers brushing her mother's pendant.

They walked on, full-bellied, rested, and—for once—laughing softly as Naru barked at a squirrel and tumbled down the slope.

Even warriors needed joy.

And fate… fate was waiting just beyond the hills.