Silent Deaths - Short fantasy story /Part II/

I dismounted and walked cautiously, as if entering an enemy camp. However, no one paid too much attention to me, nothing more than any foreigner would attract, regardless of the fact that the weapon was visible from all sides on me. The horse walked cautiously, trained to be prepared for various events, as was his rider. The faces of everyone who looked in my direction, be it children or elderly residents, hid more surprise than fear. There was no mistrust, just curiosity. I set off on a paved path that stretched through the middle of the valley, towards something on the edge of the forest that looked like a commander's tent. I did not notice soldiers or weapons anywhere, but only tools for cultivating the little land that was available to them. By the color of the costumes, the decorations they wore and various other specifics, it could be discerned that the inhabitants of this hidden place come from all over the continent. Everything looked like a temporary refugee camp, but it exuded a completely different energy. It acted and smelled like home.

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Occasionally a song would be heard, sometimes chanting. The muscles tensed from my previous encounter now instinctively began to relax even though I didn't really know who that Marlan was, or why Master had sent me for him. I hope that there will not be too much resistance when he has to go with me, I even have the impression that he will be very happy to go. A message hidden deep in my backpack waited, unopened to be handed over to him. The Master said that the content of that message is as important as the lives of all of us, my fellow warriors and other Masters. I tried not to think about it, but new tension appeared in my muscles now that those thoughts came to my mind again.

I soon reached the other end of the valley, right next to that tent that seemed so imposing from afar. And it really was as magnificent as it seemed, it was painted on the sides with various ornaments. Symbols and verses unknown to me. It gave a magical impression, although I knew very well, like everyone else on the continent, that magic, which was once the main hope of the people, is now far from our reach. The entrance wing of the tent opened and a gray-haired woman, with a happy face, came out in front of me carrying a bowl of water and a towel.

Come messenger, wash away the dirt of the road, breathe fresh air of the mountain home and approach our fire she said solemnly. It sounded like an ancient greeting, of some ancient people. It evoked some memories in my mind, but I could not clearly discern what it was about and I drove away such thoughts. The feeling of some closeness that those words awakened in me, warmed with my soul, unexpectedly gave me warmth. The words I uttered came from the feeling of warmth I had, and perhaps from that hazy memory that played on the edge of my recognition.

I will gladly approach the fire, my honor now serves her as well I was surprised, as if I had uttered ritual words. Something slipped into me, as if things had settled down. Feelings, sounds, pores, colors. Everything became clearer.

Welcome, no one has known the Word for a long time. Marlan will be here soon, sit by the fire while I make tea. Joy warms my heart, the right path is finally in sight. She said visibly more happy than before, and already slipped back into the tent.

I was happy, confused, but at the same time completely sure that this is the place I should be. I took a seat by the fire, and was calm. After several years of chaos, war and suffering, finally calmed down. I was waiting for Marlan.