And so, the three of them walked, their footsteps crunching in the snow as they made their way toward the mines. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the village, and the air was filled with the faint hum of life. But beneath the surface, something stirred—a quiet tension, a sense that this day would mark the beginning of something far greater than any of them could imagine.
Unbeknownst to them, the arrival of this stranger, this merchant who called himself Leon, would set in motion a chain of events that would change everything. For now, though, they walked on, unaware that the world they knew was about to shift, irrevocably and forever
Time passed as Towan and Elliot led Leon through the village, showing him everything Heartwood had to offer. They visited the blacksmith's forge, where the scent of burning coal and molten metal filled the air, sharp and acrid, mingling with the rhythmic clang of hammer against anvil. The blacksmith, a burly man with soot-streaked arms, nodded at them as they passed, his hands never stopping their work. Next, they wandered through the bustling market, where villagers greeted them with warm smiles and cheerful waves. Stalls lined the square, offering everything from fresh bread to handwoven blankets, their colors vibrant against the snowy backdrop. Finally, they made their way to the farms stretching toward the outskirts of the village, the fields blanketed in frost but still rich with crops stored for the winter. The sight of the frozen earth, dotted with the occasional green sprout, was a testament to the resilience of Heartwood's people.
Throughout the tour, Leon remained observant but polite, nodding as villagers waved and offered friendly greetings. He responded with small smiles and courteous words, his demeanor calm and composed. Yet, his sharp gaze missed nothing. His eyes darted from the blacksmith's tools to the market stalls, from the frost-covered fields to the distant treeline, as if cataloging every detail. There was a quiet intensity to him, a sense that he was always calculating, always assessing.
As the day wore on, the sky dimmed earlier than expected, the sun vanishing behind a thick layer of clouds that rolled in from the east. By the time they reached the mines, the air had grown colder, biting at their cheeks, and the last traces of daylight had faded into the horizon, leaving the world cloaked in a dusky gray. The mine stood before them, its entrance a jagged maw carved into the rocky hillside. Piles of loose dirt and cracked stone surrounded it, evidence of an excavation that had been abandoned before it could truly begin.
Leon stopped at the entrance, his hands clasped behind his back as he took a moment to analyze the rugged terrain. His eyes narrowed, scanning the uneven rock face with a critical eye. The mine was little more than a hollowed-out scar in the earth, its structure fragile and unstable.
"Hmmm," he muttered, his voice low and thoughtful. "I see why work hasn't started properly here." He stepped closer, running his hand along the rough surface of the rock wall, his fingers brushing against its jagged edges. "The structure isn't stable at all. It'd collapse with just a little pressure."
Then, without hesitation, he lifted a finger.
A small flame flickered to life at its tip, casting a warm, golden glow against the cold stone. The fire danced effortlessly, its light flickering across the rough interior of the mine, illuminating the cracks and crevices that marred its walls. The flame seemed almost alive, unaffected by the evening breeze that whispered through the trees.
Towan and Elliot instinctively took a step back, their eyes widening in surprise. In all their years in Heartwood, they had only seen two people use Essentia—the chief and the blacksmith. And even then, it had never looked like this. The fire in Leon's hand was not the controlled, utilitarian flame of the forge; it was something wilder, something more primal. It pulsed with a life of its own, a tiny beacon of power in the gathering darkness.
Leon continued his inspection, the flickering light casting long shadows across the cave's rough interior. He didn't miss the boys' stares, nor the fascination in their expressions. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, though his gaze remained focused on the mine.
"Never seen someone use fire before?" he asked, his voice carrying an amused edge.
Towan hesitated, still watching the flame as it danced on Leon's fingertip. "Well… the blacksmith uses it to heat his forge, but—"
Elliot finished the thought, his voice tinged with awe. "We've never seen it like that."
Leon's smirk deepened, but his attention remained on the mine. "Well," he said, lowering his hand and letting the flame disappear into the darkness, "there's more to Essentia than just heating a forge."
For a moment, silence hung between them, heavy and expectant. The only sound was the distant howl of the wind as it swept through the trees, carrying with it the chill of the coming night.
And then, just faintly, there was something else.
A noise.
Far off, but growing closer.
The kind of sound that didn't belong in a peaceful village like Heartwood. It was low and guttural, a rumble that seemed to vibrate through the ground beneath their feet. The boys exchanged a glance, their earlier awe replaced by unease. Even Leon's expression shifted, his sharp eyes narrowing as he turned toward the source of the sound.
Something was coming.