Midday passed. Dozens of people were plowing the fields. It didn't seem to be going poorly for them—from their happy faces, one could guess there would be a good harvest this year.
At a distance of perhaps two hundred meters lay a small village, almost empty except for children, the elderly, or the sick, who kept to their daily activities away from the crop fields.
There, among them, stood another person. From his physique, one could guess he was middle-aged, but his gray hair and aged face seemed to say otherwise.
That man dressed modestly, watching the villagers work with a somber expression. He carried a staff which he gripped tightly.
His thoughts were stirred by the sound of a horse's gallop. It grew louder with each passing second—once distant, now it seemed very close. Turning toward the village entrance, he discovered it was indeed a horse.
"Help! We need a healer!" Zara shouted from the horse, holding the unconscious Shadow.
The man sighed, seeming relieved. Upon hearing the girl, he made his way toward them, limping but leaning on his staff. The children watched curiously; the elderly, cautiously.
"I am the healer," he said upon reaching them. He saw the desperation in their eyes and the wounded woman—he knew he couldn't waste time. "Follow me."
The young ones, aided by the man, carried Shadow into one of the buildings. The interior looked like a shop, with shelves full of herbs, ointments, and medicines. They continued through to another room and laid Shadow on a bed.
The man sat beside her to examine her closely. His gaze quickly detected the cut on her arm.
"The wound is deep, but manageable. It shouldn't be causing this," he said, confused, looking to Zara and Derek for information.
"She was wounded by a spiritual attack," Zara said nervously.
The man nodded, but didn't seem more nervous. With his limp, he left the room. The two young ones could hear him working, and in a short time, he entered once more.
"This will stabilize her," he said, making Shadow swallow a kind of medicine.
She coughed a little but managed to swallow it all. Her condition seemed to improve—color returned to her skin, and her breathing normalized.
"Is she okay?" Derek asked. Of the three, he was clearly the most worried.
"She will be—in a day or two," the man replied as he stood up.
The young ones sighed in relief. The man led them back to the front room, the problem now resolved.
"Why did that happen?" Derek was the first to speak upon leaving.
"Why did what happen?" the man replied, raising an eyebrow.
"That! My sister almost died! That wound couldn't have been that serious."
"The wound itself wasn't the problem—it was what caused it," Zara replied.
"Boy," the man called his attention, examining one of the shelves. "Do you know what a spiritual attack is?"
Derek shook his head, surprising Zara.
"In simple terms," the man continued, "a spiritual attack is one that damages both the physical body and the spirit."
"Furthermore, the spirit is connected to your very life," Zara added with a frown. "By destroying your spirit, they destroy you."
"And believe me, boy, there are few things in this world more fragile than the human spirit."
The man returned some bottles to empty spaces on the shelf. Finished with his work, he turned back to his two unexpected visitors.
"We are very grateful to you. You've saved our companion's life." Zara gave a small bow; Derek followed her example but much more clumsily.
The man stared at them with a furrowed brow, saying nothing. After several seconds, he sighed.
"I think I've postponed my doubts long enough," he said in a more cautious tone. "Who are you, and where do you come from?"
"We're travelers, sir," Derek said, trying to sound as convincing as possible.
"Yes, of course—and I'm the king," he said sarcastically, accompanied by a small laugh. "A young girl in a dress who looks every bit a noble, and two strangers in black garments with barely their eyes visible."
Zara turned to look at Derek, who instinctively looked away. The girl sighed before turning back to the man.
"You're right. I am a noble. My name is Lilieth Hagem, and these two are my bodyguards."
"How did your bodyguard got wounded that way?"
"We were attacked by bandits."
"Spiritualist bandits?"
"Yes."
The man frowned. He was sure the girl was lying to him quite blatantly, but she said it with such conviction that it made him doubt himself.
Still, he was certain something was wrong with this whole situation.
"Look, kids, I don't like being the kind of person who meddles in others' problems," he said as he stepped a little closer to them. "Do you know how many nobles come to this village to be healed in a week?"
"Well, there's always a first time for everything," Zara added, still trying to maintain the charade.
"Besides, girl, I know the surnames of all the noble families in the north, and I assure you, none is 'Hagem.'"
Zara looked away a little. It seems she's not able to maintain the charade under enough pressure, the man thought.
"Don't misunderstand me. I'm devoted to my craft." The man stopped pointing his staff at her. "I won't let your friend die."
The man walked to the window, again looking out at the crop fields.
"But if you came here to bring more trouble, it's best you leave," he said with a sigh.
Derek and Zara approached another window, seeing the same thing as the man.
"Having surplus food is a problem?" Derek asked, raising an eyebrow.
"In these times, yes, I'm afraid so."
Following those words, the sound of more horses galloping could be heard. The man seemed to tense up—something both young ones noticed.
"Go into the room with your friend. Don't come out until I say so."
The man watched them enter the room, then prepared to receive someone.
The door opened, and three people entered. Two were soldiers—they wore light metal armor, each with a blue waning moon on their chests. The third was a middle-aged man, wearing an eyepatch over his left eye and nobleman's clothing.
"I'd invite you to sit, but I don't think you'll be staying long," the healer said from the counter.
"You know me well, old friend." The noble laughed, hands behind his back. "No, it won't be long."
"Then what brings you here?" the healer added sarcastically, though he already knew what the other man was after.
"You know well." The noble's face darkened. "When can I come to collect the food?"
The healer didn't respond.
"The king's orders are strict. All towns and villages must deliver sixty percent of their food to feed the army during the war with Tarzovia."
"That's what you say, old friend, and I don't believe you."
The noble frowned. The two soldiers remained standing behind him.
"Lein, I chose you to lead these people because I trust your abilities. But I will not tolerate this insubordination."
"Insubordination?" he said with a slight laugh. "Sixty percent is too much. Even with a good harvest, people will die."
"How much could you give?"
"Twenty percent."
The man brought his hand to the bridge of his nose. "That's too little."
"You put me in charge of this place. You can't expect me to starve half the villagers to death for a stupid war."
The noble lifted his gaze to make eye contact with Lein. He was not at all pleased with the responses he was receiving.
"Lein, I appreciate you. I know what you've been through, and I understand," the noble said in a calm voice. "But I'm not here to discuss—I'm here to give an ultimatum."
The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocket watch. He looked at it for a second and put it away again.
"In two days, my men will come to collect the food. I don't want any trouble," he said, turning and passing between the soldiers. "If even then you refuse to cooperate, it will be taken as an act of rebellion."
Lein gripped his staff tightly and made a grimace of anger, but said nothing.
"I don't want to have to do this. Please, think carefully about what you'll do."
With that said, the man and his guards left the room. Shortly after, the sounds of horses riding away could be heard.
Lein remained in place, contemplating what he could do to avoid famine—though it seemed there was no way to achieve it.
While he thought, the two young ones came out of the room with worried expressions. They assumed that since they hadn't heard anything, they could come out now.
"That man was a noble?" Zara asked.
"Yes. He's been governing these lands for years."
"Shouldn't you know him?" Derek whispered to Zara.
"I don't know many nobles of the empire," the girl replied.
The man stood up and walked once more to the window, again looking at the fields with a somber expression.
"Those people look too happy to know they'll lose more than half of it in two days."
"They don't know," the man replied.
"You haven't told them something so important?" Zara asked.
"These aren't easy times, girl. Taxes have gone up, and many able-bodied men were conscripted into the army." The man sighed and stepped away from the window. "The harvest is the only good thing that's happened in a while. I fear that if it's taken from them, a revolt will break out."
"And if that happens, they'll be massacred," the mage said with a frown.
Zara had lost herself in her thoughts. This can't be true, she thought. Maybe my father isn't a saint, but he's not a tyrant.
"He wouldn't allow it..." she said quietly, still lost in thought.
"Who?" The man raised an eyebrow upon hearing her.
Zara brought her hands to her mouth. I said too much there! she thought.
"Nobody. Ignore what I said," she said nervously.
The man kept his gaze fixed on her. With each second, he frowned more and more, until he stumbled back a few steps.
"Damn it! How did I not realize before!" he said, his eyes wide as plates. "That white hair—there's no one in this empire with that color, least of all in the royal family!"
That's it. I've been discovered, Zara thought, bringing her hand to her face. This man will keep us here so the soldiers can come for me.
"You're Princess Olivia!" the man shouted from the floor.
Zara lifted her gaze for a few seconds, raising an eyebrow with her mouth slightly open. That was definitely not the reaction she'd expected.
Derek, for his part, had started laughing heartily, holding onto the window to keep from falling to the floor with laughter.
"You went out so little that people don't even know you?" Derek managed to say between laughs, mocking her.
"They should know me, shouldn't they?" Zara said, very confused. "Even if I don't go out, they should know I exist, right?"
"Aren't you Princess Olivia?" the man said, composing himself a little.
"No, I'm not," Zara said, a little annoyed. "I'm Princess Zara. Damn it—I can't believe I'm so little known."
"Princess Zara?" the man repeated, now confused. "So the rumors are true—you really were captured."
"Rumors?" Zara said, raising an eyebrow.
"Your father can't openly say that one of his daughters was kidnapped from the palace itself," Derek added afterward.
After the exchange, the three fell silent for a few seconds. Zara and Derek realized too late that they'd said too much.
Lein tried to run toward the shop's exit, but was stopped by the princess and the mage, who lunged at him. This, combined with his limp, didn't let him get far.
"I'll call the guards! Why the hell are you stopping me?" the man shouted from the floor, looking at Zara very confused.
"Don't call anyone!" the princess urged.
"Are you being threatened?" The man turned to look at Derek with eyes full of anger. "Bastard! You should be ashamed of yourself, threatening a young lady like that!"
"No, I'm not being threatened! At least listen!"
"It seems old age has started to affect your brain, old man," Derek added, still holding him.
"Derek!" Zara elbowed him. "If you're going to speak, let it be something that puts us in a better position."
The man returned his gaze to the princess. He expected a look of fear, perhaps a silent plea for help. To his surprise, it was the opposite—he found a gaze full of confidence.
"Mr. Lein?" A person knocked on the door. "We heard a crash. Is everything alright?"
The man nodded slowly to the princess. She stopped holding him, and Derek did the same shortly after.
"It's nothing. I tried to squash a rat and ended up falling to the floor," the man said, standing up once more.
"Alright. Be careful. Don't hesitate to call if you need help with anything." The shadow behind the door moved away after that.
The three fell silent once more, but for less time. Lein walked between them and entered the room where Shadow lay. The two followed.
"No one will hear us here," he said, sitting on an empty bed, gesturing with his staff for the two to do the same.
The two young ones obeyed, sitting across from him.
"I know I said I'm not one to meddle in others' problems," he began, sighing. "But I must admit, your situation is strange and awakens great curiosity in me. How did you end up here? I want you to tell me everything."
The man took a pitcher of water that was nearby, along with a cup. After pouring water into the cup, he offered it to the young ones.
"Depending on how much I believe your story, I might call the guards—or I might not."
Zara and Derek exchanged glances, then looked at the unconscious Shadow. If I tell him everything, he might decide not to help us, she thought worriedly. But if we don't, it's certain he won't.
After thinking about it for a short while, Zara—accompanied by a sigh from Derek—began telling the man everything they had been through up to that point.