The villagers watched in silence, their hearts heavy with empathy. They could see that Shawn, who had just saved them, was still just a 16-year-old child, grappling with emotions too powerful and too deep for someone so young. As Shawn’s roar faded into the damp air, the village remained still, the only sound the gentle patter of the rain. They wanted to reach out to him, to console him, but in the face of such raw emotion, they felt helpless. How could they offer comfort when they themselves were still so shaken?

  No one approached Shawn. The villagers, though shaken, began to piece together the events. They knew now that Shawn’s grandfather was among the casualties, a realisation that weighed heavily on their hearts. As the rain finally ceased and the sun emerged, its brightness contrasting sharply with the scene of devastation, the villagers turned their attention to tending the wounded, gathering the dead, and salvaging what they could from the wreckage.

  Ruth's father organised a group to investigate the soldiers' identities. Upon inspecting the armour and insignia, they discovered that the attackers were soldiers of King Azure. All the villagers wondered why King Azure's soldiers attacked their village since they were located in the Azurian Kingdom. Worry spread among the surviving villagers, and despite that, they continued to gather the fallen and stack them in a large wooden tower. The bodies of the fallen soldiers were burned along with the others, their ashes mingling in the smouldering pyre. The villagers gathered solemnly around the fire, praying for the souls of the departed, but Shawn was nowhere to be seen.

  Under the sprawling branches of the banyan tree, the villagers assembled, their faces etched with concern and uncertainty. They reported their findings on the extent of the damage, the missing, and the number of the dead to the village elder, who listened intently, his expression grave. After everyone had spoken, the elder took a deep breath and began to address the gathered crowd.

  "First of all, I am sorry," he began, his voice heavy with guilt. "As your village elder, it was my duty to protect you. Yet, here I stand, having barely escaped death myself, and having brought you all to the brink of disaster."

  The villagers listened intently, the air thick with fear and curiosity as they hung on to the elders' every word. "If King Azure’s soldiers have attacked the villages in their own kingdom…," the elder began, his voice sombre but clear, "then no place in the eastern region is safe. This war is no longer a distant conflict; it is now a fight for our very survival."

  A murmur rippled through the crowd, the weight of the elder's words sinking in. Faces, once filled with the simple concerns of daily life, now reflected the harsh reality of their situation. The elder's gaze swept over them, seeing the anxiety and uncertainty etched into each expression, but his own resolve did not waver.

  "I have made a decision," he continued, his tone firm and resolute, "Even after all that has happened, I cannot, in good conscience, allow anyone to face further danger." He paused, letting the gravity of his words settle in. "Therefore, I have decided that those who survived this despair will move west, away from the war, and we will seek safety for ourselves and our families first."

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  The crowd buzzed with anxious whispers, uncertainty filling the air like a thick fog. The elder raised his hand, and the villagers fell silent, their eyes locked on him. "This decision was not made lightly. It is necessary for the survival of our village, our skills, and our way of life. However, I will not stop anyone who still chooses to answer the Tri-kings' call to face King Azure in this war; that choice remains yours to make."

  His voice softened, carrying a tone of understanding. "But know this: regardless of what each of you decides, we all travel together at dawn. We cannot risk staying here any longer. As the safety of the village depends on it."

  The villagers exchanged glances, weighing the elder's words in their hearts. Some nodded, resolved to follow the elder's decision, while others looked torn, the call to fight for their land battling with the instinct to protect their loved ones.

  The elder's voice, though filled with authority, carried a deep sense of empathy. "I ask only that you follow your heart. Whether you choose to fight or flee, you do so for the sake of those you love. But as a village, we must leave this place at dawn and seek refuge in the west. Our journey will be difficult, but together, we will find safety."

  His voice softened, yet carried the weight of his final promise. "I vow that, no matter the outcome of this war, we will return to this village and rebuild it, together." The villagers, understanding the gravity of their situation, slowly nodded in agreement. Preparations for departure began, and a collective determination to face the uncertain future took root.

  As the villagers dispersed to make their preparations, Ruth’s father approached the elder with concern. "What about Shawn?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

  The village elder sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping under the weight of the question. "It is his decision to make," he replied, gazing in the direction of Shawn’s house. "But I will go and speak with him."

  The village elder rose from his spot and began the slow walk towards Shawn’s house; the rain left the world quiet save for the squelching of mud beneath his feet. When he reached the house, he stepped inside, his heart heavy with the weight of what to do. The once warm and inviting home was now a scene of destruction. Amidst the wreckage, he found Shawn, sitting with his knees tucked into his chest, staring at the ground, lost in his grief.

  The elder approached cautiously, his footsteps careful, almost hesitant, as he took a seat opposite Shawn. He knew this was not a moment for grand speeches, but for something far more difficult—honesty. “Shawn,” the elder began, his voice low and filled with sorrow, “I want to say thank you for saving the village, but it isn't enough for what you have done for the village. I’m sorry, but I know those words won’t ease your pain”.

  Shawn didn’t respond; his silence was a reflection of the storm that raged within him. The elder continued, his tone weighed down by regret, “It was my responsibility to protect this village, to protect everyone, and I failed. Because of that, you’ve lost your grandfather and beyond that, even I didn’t ask, yet you took the role of saving myself and the village, which wasn’t yours to bear, and for that I am always grateful.”

  The elder paused, searching for the right words to reach through the walls Shawn had built around himself. “Your grandfather… he came to this village when you were just a baby. I remember that day so clearly. He carried you in his arms, looking for a place to call home, a place to raise you.” Shawn’s head lifted slightly, a flicker of attention breaking through his grief.

  The elder continued, seizing the moment. “Yes, Shawn, you and your grandfather aren’t originally from this village."

  Sword Master.

  Sword Master