Helping the Village People

As the door to the town hall creaked open, the group was met with a sight that no words could adequately describe. The room was dimly lit, the faint light casting eerie shadows over the gruesome tableau within. Bodies, too many to count, were piled high against the walls, a grotesque mosaic of death. Some were charred beyond recognition, others bore the brutal marks of violent ends—decapitated, dismembered, or cleaved in half.

Yosue, the youngest and least hardened of the group, was the first to turn away, unable to stomach the scene. He stumbled outside, his footsteps echoing hollowly against the stone path, before he bent over the grass, sickened by what he had witnessed.

Amukelo, with a grim determination etched onto his face, stepped forward to take a closer look. His boots made a soft thud as he inadvertently kicked something small and round. Looking down, he realized with a heart-wrenching jolt that it was the head of a child, its eyes wide open in an eternal expression of fear. Overwhelmed by the stark horror of it all, he too succumbed to his revulsion, doubling over as he retched painfully onto the floor.

Erohan and Ida remained just inside the doorway, their faces masks of stone. They stood in silence, absorbing the grim reality of the scene before them. It was a silence filled with rage, sorrow, and a fierce resolve that such atrocities should never be allowed to happen again.

After a few heavy minutes, they collectively decided to step out of the hall, closing the door with a definitive thud that seemed to echo the finality of so many lives lost. Outside, Amukelo took a moment to wipe his face, his eyes red-rimmed and his jaw set firmly. He approached the villager who had led them to the hall, his voice carrying a weight of responsibility.

"Is there something we can do for you?" Amukelo asked, his tone earnest, seeking to offer some solace in the wake of such devastation.

The man shook his head slowly, his eyes reflecting a deep, resigned sadness. "We'll manage," he replied quietly. "We've survived this far. We'll mourn, we'll rebuild, and we'll remember. But please," his voice grew firmer, a note of urgency creeping into his tone, "stop him. Stop this madman before he brings this nightmare to others. No one else should have to endure what we've gone through."

Amukelo nodded, the resolve in his eyes hardening further. Turning to his companions, who were gathered around, listening intently, he declared, "We can't let Valarian continue unchecked. This... this destruction, this pain... it ends. We will stop him, not just for us, but for everyone who's suffered under his madness. This ends now!"

As they returned to where Eliss was waiting, Amukelo approached her with a solemn expression. The devastation in the village was evident even without words, but he chose his descriptions carefully, sparing her the most grisly details. After sharing the situation, Eliss immediately suggested a way to aid the villagers. With a tone of resolve, she proposed using her magic to help rebuild their homes, offering a demonstration to showcase the potential of her spells.

The villagers, weary and beaten down by their recent tragedies, were initially hesitant. Their lives had been turned upside down, and trust was a luxury they could scarcely afford. Sensing their reluctance, Eliss asked for just a chance to show what she could do, promising that no further harm would come to them. Reluctantly, they agreed, curiosity piqued by the possibility of rebuilding what they had lost.

Eliss stepped forward, her hands weaving through the air as she chanted softly. The magic took hold, earth and stone bending to her will. In moments, a structure began to take shape—four sturdy stone walls and a slanted roof appeared as if conjured from thin air. She then turned to Amukelo, nodding towards the rough structure, "Could you please make the entrance and windows, and perhaps a chimney?"

With a swift, practiced motion, Amukelo drew his swords, cutting through stone as if it were butter. He meticulously crafted openings for doors and windows and carved out a chimney, his actions precise and efficient. The villagers watched, their eyes wide with a mix of astonishment and hope, as a tangible symbol of recovery rose from the ruins of their despair.

Impressed by the demonstration and moved by the genuine kindness shown by the strangers, the villagers quickly warmed up to the idea. Their initial skepticism faded, replaced by gratitude as they witnessed more homes being constructed with the same magical efficiency. Eliss, drawing upon her reserves of mana, managed to erect ten houses. Each structure was solid, designed to endure, far superior to their previous wooden homes. Additionally, she reinforced the village's perimeter wall, transforming the fragile wooden barrier into a formidable stone fortification.

As dusk settled over the village, Eliss's energy waned, the exertion of her magical efforts evident in her tired eyes and slow movements. Despite this, the villagers approached her, their faces alight with gratitude. They thanked her profusely, their voices carrying a weight of relief that hadn't been there before. The atmosphere in the village shifted from one of defeat to one of cautious optimism, thanks to the newfound security and the promise of sturdier homes.

That night, the group stayed in one of the newly constructed stone houses. Amukelo and Eliss made their beds on stacks of wheat, a humble but welcome comfort compared to the cold ground outside. As they settled down, Amukelo turned to Eliss, his voice soft but full of admiration. "You did an incredible job today," he said earnestly. "You've changed their lives, Eliss. Without your magic, we couldn't have offered them this new beginning."

Eliss, drained yet content, merely nodded, her energy barely sufficient to muster a verbal response. But as sleep claimed her, a small, serene smile played on her lips, and she giggled softly in her dreams. The sound was light and joyful, a stark contrast to the harshness of the past days. Amukelo watched her for a moment, the moonlight casting gentle shadows across her peaceful face. He felt a profound connection to her in that quiet, simple moment—a shared commitment to making a difference, no matter the cost.