The sun hung a little brighter in the sky, the air felt a little sharper, and the world seemed to hold its breath, as if waiting for something to happen. Towan couldn't quite put his finger on it, but the feeling lingered, a quiet unease that settled in the back of his mind.
And soon, that feeling would prove right.
The village chief's house stood near the heart of Heartwood, its wooden frame worn but sturdy, a testament to years of weathering both time and the elements. As Towan and Elliot pushed the door open, they were immediately greeted by the rich, earthy aroma of freshly brewed tea, mingling with the faint scent of old parchment and the comforting crackle of burning wood from the fireplace. The warmth of the room wrapped around them like a blanket, a stark contrast to the crisp winter air outside.
"Good morning, Chief," Elliot said with polite respect, his tone measured and formal.
"Nice to see you, Juan!" Towan added casually, his voice far more relaxed, as if he were greeting an old friend rather than the village leader.
Inside, two men sat at a small wooden table, steam curling lazily from their cups. The chief, an older man with a kind but weathered face, sat facing them, his hands wrapped around his tea as if drawing warmth from it. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, the lines on his face telling stories of a life spent guiding and protecting the village. The other man, whose back was turned, remained silent as they entered, his posture straight and composed, giving nothing away.
Juan smiled at them, setting his tea down on the table with a soft clink. "Ah, there you are. How are you boys doing?"
"Just fine," Towan replied, his hands stuffed into his pockets. "José said you were looking for us?"
"That's right." The chief gestured toward the seated stranger, his expression turning slightly more serious. "I'd like you to show our guest around the village. He's a merchant and has offered to help us with some supplies."
At that, the man turned to face them, revealing sharp, calculating eyes that seemed to size them up in an instant. His expression was calm, controlled, yet there was something about the way he observed them—too keen, too aware, as if he were peeling back layers with just a glance. His features were unremarkable, but his presence was anything but. He carried himself with a quiet confidence, the kind that made you feel like he always knew more than he let on.
"Nice to meet you," he said, his voice smooth and polite, though it carried an edge of something Towan couldn't quite place.
"No problem," Towan answered, shrugging.
"Consider it done," Elliot added, his tone more formal, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied the man.
The chief nodded, satisfied. "Good, I'll leave him in your hands."
The merchant stood, adjusting the coat draped over his shoulders with a practiced ease, and followed the two boys outside. The morning air was crisp, the snow crunching softly beneath their boots as they walked. The village was alive with activity, the sounds of laughter, chatter, and the occasional clang of metal from the blacksmith's forge filling the air. Yet, despite the familiar bustle, there was an undercurrent of something new, something different, as if the arrival of this stranger had shifted the balance ever so slightly.
Elliot took the lead in explaining, his voice steady and professional. "As you probably noticed, Heartwood is a quiet place. We focus mostly on farming—carrots, potatoes, things like that. But lately, we've been looking to expand our mines. Right now, they're too shallow and not well-equipped for proper mineral extraction."
"I see…" The merchant hummed in thought, his gaze flickering toward the distance as if already calculating possibilities. "I might be able to help with that. I have a few connections who specialize in mining equipment and logistics." He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced back at them. "Could you show me the mines? I know a thing or two about excavation."
"This way," Towan said, gesturing for him to follow. Then, curiosity getting the better of him, he asked, "By the way, what's your name, sir?"
The man hesitated—just for a fraction of a second, so brief that Towan almost missed it. Then, smoothly, he answered, "My name? I'm Rh—" He cut himself off, clearing his throat. "Leon. Just Leon. Forgot to introduce myself earlier."
Towan raised an eyebrow at the odd pause but thought nothing of it. "Nice! I'm Towan, and he's my brother, Elliot."
Leon offered a small smile, but his eyes remained unreadable, like a still pond hiding depths beneath its surface. "Pleasure to meet you both."