Alistair and Thorin strolled through the picturesque village, marveling at its beauty. The cobbled streets were lined with charming homes and colorful shops, and the scent of freshly baked bread wafted out of a nearby bakery. The villagers, dressed in simple but well-made clothes, went about their daily tasks with a sense of ease and contentment. As they walked, Alistair couldn't help but compare it to his own ruined village.
Thorin noticed Alistair's sullen expression as he watched a family passing by. His gaze lingered on the young boy who was clinging to his mother, the woman laughing at something the child said. In that moment, Thorin could see the sadness in Alistair's eyes, a sense of loss and longing that was all too familiar to him. It was clear that the boy was struggling with the absence of his own family.
Thorin saw the sadness in Alistair's expression, and his heart went out to the boy. Deciding to try and bring a bit of levity to the moment, Thorin reached out and playfully pinched Alistair's cheek. "Cheer up, newbie," he said jokingly. "We're in a beautiful village, not a funeral home."
Alistair's frown turned into a small, tentative smile. Thorin's playful gesture had lifted his spirits a little, and he felt grateful for the older boy's presence. He knew he could count on Thorin to keep him grounded and offer a bit of levity in the midst of their uncertain journey.
As they continued exploring the village, Alistair's stomach began to growl, a reminder that they had little food and no money to spend on luxuries like freshly baked bread. Thorin was eyeing a shop up ahead, but Alistair held him back, concern etched on his face. "We don't have money... It's alright," he said quietly. "We'll have to make do with what we have."
As Thorin pulled a small pouch of gold coins from his pack, Alistair was taken aback. "Where did you get those?!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with surprise. Thorin chuckled softly, shaking the bag for emphasis. "I have my ways," he said cryptically, his lips curled in a smirk.
Alistair was stunned silent, his eyes widening as he realized that Thorin had concealed gold all this time. He felt a mixture of amazement and irritation, wondering why Thorin hadn't mentioned it before. "You could have told me earlier!" he blurted out. "How long have you had that bag of gold? And where did you even get it?"
Thorin shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve," he replied mysteriously. "And I never reveal all my secrets at once. The gold's been on me for a while, but I didn't see a need to mention it to you, newbie."
Alistair rolled his eyes, his expression becoming deadpan. "You can stop calling me 'newbie,'" he said, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "We're both here for the first time, remember? You didn't magically appear out of nowhere."
Thorin chuckled, his smirk growing wider. "Fair point," he conceded, patting Alistair on the back. "But I still get to call you newbie. I'm older, and I have more experience than you. It comes with seniority."
Alistair rolled his eyes again but couldn't help grinning. "Just you wait, I'll catch up to you soon enough. Then I'll be the one calling you 'newbie'."
Thorin chuckled, amused by Alistair's confidence. "We'll see about that," he retorted, playfully ruffling Alistair's hair. "But for now, I'm still the experienced one. And you're still the newbie."
Thorin grabbed Alistair by the wrist, pulling him into the store. "Come on, newbie," he said, a playful gleam in his eyes. "We've got some shopping to do."
Alistair stumbled after Thorin, still trying to process the turn of events. "Wait, why are we here again?" he asked, looking around the cozy little store with curiosity.
Thorin chuckled, enjoying Alistair's confusion. "We're here to get some supplies, and maybe some treats," he replied, heading to the counter. "We can't survive on stale bread and dried meat forever, you know."
They spent the next hour exploring the shop, trying on new clothes and picking out practical traveling gear, including a sturdier satchel and a good pair of durable boots for Alistair. Thorin even jokingly picked out a hat that read "newbie" for Alistair, teasingly pulling the hat on his head. After a filling meal at the village's only tavern, they stepped out feeling refreshed and well-equipped for the road ahead, both in gear and in spirits.
While Thorin paid for their purchases, Alistair found himself admiring the new clothes he was wearing and the comfortable boots on his feet. He had never owned anything so well-made before, and the feeling of sturdy fabric against his skin was a luxury he had not known he needed. He thanked Thorin and they left the store to the outdoors.
As the sun began to set, the sky painted with streaks of orange and pink, Alistair and Thorin walked the cobbled streets, the village slowly quieting as the day came to an end. The air was warm and crisp, a gentle breeze gently blowing through their hair as they strolled along.
Thorin and Alistair felt a sense of unease as they continued their walk, sensing that they were being watched. The hairs on the back of their necks stood on end, and they began to feel as though there was an unseen presence lurking just out of sight. Thorin suddenly stopped and turned to Alistair. "Alistair," he said quietly, "can you feel it too?"
Alistair nodded, his eyes darting around the increasingly dark street. "Yeah," he replied, his voice hushed. "It feels like we're being followed."
Thorin's expression hardened, his gaze darting around their surroundings. "Keep your guard up," he said, his hand moving discreetly to his waistband, where he kept a dagger. "I don't like the feel of this."
With a sense of trepidation, Thorin and Alistair stopped walking, their eyes scanning the street for any signs of a rent house. The sun had set by now, and the night was fast approaching. They needed a safe place to stay for the night, and they were hoping to find an inn or boarding house.
Thorin's senses were on high alert as he led Alistair down the street, searching for a sign or any other indication of a lodgings. Alistair stayed close beside him, his eyes darting around nervously. They kept their conversation to a minimum, not wanting to draw too much attention to themselves.
Finally, they spotted a small building with a flickering sign above the door. A sign that read, "The Sleeping Dragon Inn." Thorin looked to Alistair and nodded. "Looks like we've found a place to stay," he said quietly. "Let's go check it out."
Alistair nodded, still a bit uneasy. "Just be careful," he warned. Thorin nodded in agreement, his hand resting lightly on the dagger at his belt. Together, they crossed the street and approached the inn, their senses still on high alert for any signs of danger.
Thorin led Alistair over to the inkeep behind the counter. "Good evening," he said politely. "Do you have any rooms available for the night?" The inkeep nodded, giving them a warm smile. "Aye, we've got a few rooms left. It'll be five silver for the night. Includes the use of the baths."
Thorin nodded and pushed a handful of coins across the counter. "We'll take the cheapest room you've got." The inkeep counted out the coins, then passed a key across the counter. "Room Twelve. Down the hall, second door on the left."
Thorin took the key and nodded his thanks. "Much obliged." He gestured for Alistair to follow him as he made his way towards the hallway, glancing back at the in keep before moving out of their sight. Alistair followed, his eyes taking in the inn's cozy interior - the flickering oil lamps, the rough wooden walls, the warm scent of food wafting from the kitchen, and the muted sound of conversation coming from the corner.
They found their room without incident and pushed open the door. The room was small and plain, furnished with a bed, a wash basin and a wooden bedside table. Thorin set their bags down by the side of the bed and took a cautious look around the room. Everything seemed secure, and he finally relaxed a bit, letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.
Alistair followed Thorin into the room, his eyes darting around the small space. "Seems safe enough," he said after a moment, feeling a bit more comfortable now that they were behind a locked door. He flopped down onto the bed with a sigh, the mattress creaking slightly under his weight.
Thorin nodded, still on high alert. "For now." He moved over to the window and peered out through the crack in the curtains, scanning the street outside. He frowned, seeing no sign of anyone following them, but the feeling of being watched still lingered at the back of his mind.
Thorin tensed as he heard footsteps approaching their room. They sounded heavy and measured, as though the person was trying to quietly move down the hallway. He motioned for Alistair to be quiet and crept over to the door, his hand moving to the dagger in his belt.
There was a long moment of silence as Thorin stood by the door, listening intently for any further sounds of footsteps. He tensed as he heard them pause right outside their door. He tightened his grip on his dagger, his eyes narrowing as he prepared to confront whoever was on the other side.
Thorin cautiously opened the door, swords drawn and ready for battle. But to his surprise, he found himself face to face with Lucius, the mysterious figure who had confronted and beaten the bandits earlier that day. Lucius stood there with a smirk on his face, not seeming alarmed by Thorin's menacing stance.
Lucius's green eyes danced with amusement as they landed on Thorin, his smirk growing even wider. He feigned a look of surprise, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he spoke. "Oops, my bad," he said, faking confusion. "Looks like I got into the wrong room."
Thorin hesitated for a moment before slowly lowering his sword, still suspicious of Lucius. He didn't trust the man, but he didn't want to cause a scene either. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone guarded.
Lucius raised his hands in a placating gesture, his smile never leaving his face. "Just taking a little stroll, friend," he said, his voice smooth and unhurried. "I happened to hear some...interesting noises coming from this room. Thought I'd come check to make sure everything was alright."
Thorin's eyes narrowed, his suspicion growing. "Spying on us, were you?" he accused. He still held his sword in a loose grip, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.
Lucius shrugged, unperturbed by Thorin's suspicions. "Just a bit of friendly curiosity, is all," he replied smoothly. "I couldn't help but notice the little ruckus you two caused back at the village. Catching the attention of the bandits. How careless..."
Thorin stiffened, his hand tightening on the handle of his sword. "And what business is that of yours?" he growled, his eyes narrowing further.
Lucius held up his hands, palms outward, in a gesture of surrender. "No need to get so worked up," he said, his tone still calm and smooth. "I just thought I'd stop by and have a little talk, that's all. No need to get hostile."
Lucius' smirk widened as he regarded Thorin, his green eyes glinting with an unspoken knowledge. "Your highness," he said, his voice dripping with a mock respect. "You're supposed to be at the Valhalla kingdom, am I right, Prince Thorin?"
Thorin's eyes widened in shock at Lucius' words. How did this stranger know who he was? He tightened his grip on his sword, his mind racing with questions. How long had this man been following them? And what did he want?
Lucius chuckled softly, enjoying Thorin's reaction. "Don't be so surprised," he said, his voice now carrying a hint of smugness. "I have eyes everywhere. I know all about you, Prince Thorin. And I know why you're here."
Thorin's heart raced as Lucius continued to speak. This stranger knew his identity and knew something about his mission. It was more than just a coincidence. He needed to tread carefully. "And what exactly do you know?" he asked, his voice tightly controlled.
Lucius chuckled, enjoying Thorin's uneasiness. "Oh, I know plenty," he replied, his voice still dripping with smugness. "I know why you left the Valhalla kingdom. I know who you're looking for. And I know what you're really after."
Lucius entered the room, his gaze landing on Alistair sitting on the bed. He chuckled softly, his gray lips curling into a sly smile. "Oh, we meet again, scaredy cat," he said, his voice carrying a hint of mockery. "Aren't you the one who just watched your friend fight while you hid behind a tree?"
Alistair bristled at Lucius' words, feeling a pang of shame at the reminder of his cowardice back at the village. He lifted his chin defiantly, trying to hide his embarrassment. "I was just being cautious," he retorted, his voice sounding more meek than he would have liked. "I didn't want to get in Thorin's way."
Thorin felt a pang of curiosity, the words leaving his tongue before he had time to think. "Hey, if you really have eyes everywhere, do you know Alistair then?" His gaze flickered to Alistair, who looked at Thorin with a hint of fear in his eyes.
Lucius smirked at Thorin's question, his gaze sweeping over Alistair. "Of course I know young Alistair," he said, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "I know everything about him."
Alistair's heart felt like it had stopped beating as he heard Lucius speak. He braced himself, certain that his secret was about to be revealed. But to his surprise, Lucius simply spoke those two words, "He's a loser." It was an insult, and it stung, but it wasn't the revelation he had been expecting.
Thorin was surprised by Lucius' words, and he couldn't help but ask, "So you're telling me, Alistair is just a nobody?" He looked at Alistair, who was struggling to keep his composure.
Lucius chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming with a hint of cruelty. "Oh, he's more than just a nobody," he replied, his voice low and dangerous. "He's something much more worthless than that."
Alistair was on the verge of tears, his heart feeling like it was being crushed under the weight of Lucius' insults. He was normally quite sensitive, and Lucius' words stung more than he cared to admit. He felt small and powerless, like a insignificant bug being toyed with by a cruel child.
Thorin was furious when he saw the tears welling up in Alistair's eyes. He couldn't bear to see his friend hurt, and he snapped at Lucius, demanding that he take back his mean words. "Hey, you made him cry! Take that back now!"
Lucius just smirked at Thorin's outburst, his eyes gleaming with a cruel glimmer. "Oh, did I strike a nerve? I was just telling the truth. Your friend here is a weakling. He's useless."
As Alistair's tears flowed freely, Thorin and Lucius tried to hush him, desperate to keep him from drawing too much attention. "Hey, hey, stop crying. You'll wake up the whole inn!" Thorin hissed, trying to quiet Alistair's sobs.
"Yeah, shut up, you pathetic crybaby!" Lucius added, his tone more impatient than before. "You're being too loud. You'll wake up the whole inn and disturb everyone."
Despite their efforts to quiet him, Alistair's sobs only grew louder and more intense. His shoulders shook with the force of his emotions, and tears streamed down his face, staining his cheeks. Thorin and Lucius shared a look of frustration, realizing that their attempts to stifle him were failing miserably.
Thorin shot Lucius a glare, his voice tight with anger. "This is your fault. He wouldn't be crying right now if you hadn't insulted him so horribly."
Lucius rolled his eyes, unbothered by Thorin's anger. "Oh, please. I was just telling the truth. He's a weakling. He's supposed to accept it and move on."
Thorin scowled, his hands clenching into fists. "No, he's not. He's a good person, and he doesn't deserve your disrespectful insults."
Lucius raised an eyebrow, a small hint of surprise on his face. "Oh? You seem awfully defensive of him. Are you two...close?" he asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
Thorin's frown deepened, his jaw clenching as he struggled to keep his voice even. "That's none of your business," he snapped, his eyes narrowing as he met Lucius' gaze.
The night wore on, the only sounds breaking the silence being the occasional hoot of an owl and Alistair's loud sobs. It seemed that no matter what they did, Alistair just couldn't quiet down, and Thorin and Lucius had no choice but to listen to his noisy crying.
***THE NEXT DAY***
The next morning, Alistair was still feeling the effects of the previous night's encounter with Lucius. He was sulking, his mood still dark and sour from the insults he had endured. Every time he thought about Lucius' words, he felt a pang of hurt and anger, and it was hard to shake off the negative feelings.
Thorin noticed Alistair's mood and decided to try and cheer him up. He knew that one of Alistair's favorite fruits were strawberries, so he went outside and scoured the woods for a bit and soon found a handful of plump, ripe strawberries. He came back and offered them to Alistair, saying, "Here, have some strawberries. They might make you feel better."
Alistair's eyes brightened a bit at the sight of the strawberries. He loved the tart sweetness of the fruit, and the gesture from Thorin was enough to help lift his spirits. He thanked Thorin and took the berries, popping one into his mouth. The sweetness of the fruit was a temporary distraction from the unpleasant memories of the night before.
Thorin and Alistair were interrupted by a loud explosion, drawing their attention to the window. They hurried over and peered out, only to find that a group of outsiders was attacking the village. Panic and fear gripped them both, and they knew they had to act fast.
Alistair looked out the window, his eyes widening as he noticed a group of outsiders moving through the village. They appeared to be planting small bombs in strategic locations, clearly intending to cause damage and Chaos. Thorin also noticed the group of outsiders and his expression became serious.
Thorin and Alistair quickly made their way out of their room, determination etched on their faces. They could see the outsiders scattering around the village, planting bombs in various places. Thorin gripped his sword tightly, his face set in a firm expression of determination.
Alistair grabbed Thorin's arm, trying to hold him back, but Thorin shook him off, his confidence unwavering. "I'll be fine," he said firmly. "I can handle some measly outsiders."
Despite his reservations, Alistair couldn't let Thorin face the outsiders alone. "I'm coming with you," he said firmly, standing beside Thorin. "I'm not letting you take on those guys by yourself."
Thorin glanced at Alistair, a flicker of surprise in his gaze. "You sure you're up for this?" he asked, his tone betraying a hint of concern.
Alistair nodded, his expression steely. "I can handle myself," he replied, his jaw set in determination. "I'm not going to let you face them alone."
Thorin quickly charged at the group of outsiders, sword in hand, but was surprised to find that they were far stronger and more skilled than the bandits they had encountered before. They skillfully parried Thorin's attacks, countering with lightning-fast strikes of their own.
Alistair took a deep breath, steeling himself for the fight ahead. He gripped a steel that he had picked up and stood his ground as the outsider mockingly chuckled, "How cute, these little kids think they can take us down." Alistair clenched his jaw, refusing to be intimidated.
As Alistair fought, one of the outsiders landed a heavy punch on him, causing him to stumble backward. Alistair felt a sharp pain in his chest, and a wave of doubt washed over him. He remembered Lucius's words, and the taunt echoed in his ears: "you're just a weakling." Alistair struggled to keep going, feeling the impact of the outsider's mockery and realizing that he might be right – Alistair felt weak and helpless in this battle.
Alistair struggled with the urge to use his magic, but he fought against it. He had always been taught that his magical abilities should be used for good, not for hurting innocent people. Despite the pain and difficulty, Alistair kept fighting, relying on his physical strength instead of his magical powers.
Despite the pain and doubt, Alistair kept his composure, refusing to give the outsiders any indication of his magical abilities. He knew he had to find a way to win this fight without relying on his magic.
The outsider was about to deliver another blow to Alistair when Lucius appeared, grabbing the outsider's arm before he could land the punch. With a deceptively bright smile, Lucius said, "Now now, bullying a kid isn't nice, you know." The outsider grumbled, obviously annoyed at being interrupted.
The outsider tried to argue, saying, "Mind your own business, you creep." But before he could say anything else, Lucius twisted the outsider's arm, causing them to cry out in pain. "Now now, not so fast," Lucius taunted, still smiling cruelly.
The injured outsider whimpered, holding his injured arm. "Alright, alright, I'll back off," he conceded, clearly afraid of Lucius's strength. He quickly moved away from Alistair, not wanting to risk another injury.
Lucius turned his attention to Alistair, eyeing him with a mixture of disdain and condescension. "How pathetic," he sneered. "You look absolutely pathetic right now." He looked Alistair up and down, a smirk on his face.
Lucius stepped forward and effortlessly lifted Alistair over his shoulder, carrying him like a sack of potatoes. Alistair protested and wiggled, trying to break free, but Lucius held him fast in his grasp.
"Hey, put me down!" Alistair protested, his voice strained as he struggled against Lucius's grip. But the teen was surprisingly strong, and he showed no signs of letting go anytime soon.
"Not a chance, kiddo," Lucius said, a cocky smirk on his face. "You're coming with me." He chuckled, clearly enjoying himself.
"If you want me to put you down, you'll have to prove to me how worthy you are," Lucius stated with a smirk on his face, his grip on Alistair's legs not loosening an inch.
Lucius set Alistair down and watched as the boy took a deep breath. Suddenly, Alistair's eyes turned yellow and he shouted, "Thorin! Get out of the way!" Thorin was taken aback, but he quickly realized what was happening. He wasted no time moving out of the way as Alistair unleashed his magic.
Lucius stood back, watching in surprise as Alistair unleashed his magic power. The air around them crackled with energy, and the once-unassuming young boy now looked quite fearsome. Thorin looked on in surprise as well, having only seen a glimpse of Alistair's true power before.
Alistair took a deep breath and closed his eyes, focusing his energy. He began casting a spell that fused the elements of fire and wind, drawing upon the natural energies around him.
As Alistair closed his eyes and focused, he began reciting the words to the spell. "Ignis..." he intoned, his voice deep and steady. "Ventus..." The air around him crackled with the energy of the spell, the elements of fire and wind responding obediently to his command.
"Ignis...Ventus...Conjuratio..." Alistair continued, his voice growing stronger with each word. "Combinerunt et creabuntur unum..." As he spoke the words, the air seemed to grow hotter and more tempestuous, as though the very elements were straining to respond to his command. "Ignisventus! Unitas et potentia!" As the final words left his lips, there was a blinding flash of light and a blast of heat and wind, as the elements came together in a fusion of power.
The scene was apocalyptic as the elements fused together, creating a flame storm that engulfed the outsiders. The blaze was scorching hot, the air thick with the smell of burning flesh. The tornado only worsened the situation, the swirling flames pulling the outsiders into the fiery vortex, where they were consumed by the intense heat. It was a horrifying sight, the outsiders desperately trying to escape the raging inferno, but to no avail.
Alistair's body trembled as the adrenaline from the battle started to fade, and he stumbled backward a step. The effort of casting the powerful spell had taken a huge toll on his body, and he collapsed onto the ground, unconscious.
Thorin was stunned as he watched the scene unfold, utterly shocked by the display of magical power he had just witnessed. He had never even thought that wizards existed, let alone that they still had the power to cast powerful spells. He stared at Alistair, who lay unconscious on the ground, still trying to process what he had just seen.
Lucius watched the unconscious form of Alistair on the ground with a curious expression. "How interesting..." he mused, his gaze fixed on Alistair. "Seems he's the only one who survived that war."
Thorin looked on in horror as the realization hit him. "No..." he muttered, a hint of panic in his voice. "If my father finds out about this, he might execute him too..." He knew all too well the harsh and ruthless nature of the king, and the thought of Alistair facing the same fate as others who used magic filled him with dread.
Lucius looked intrigued, an eyebrow raised as he heard Thorin's concerns. "Your father is the king? And he'd kill him for having magic?"
Thorin sighed and nodded, his gaze still on Alistair. "Yes, he's the king," he confirmed. "And he's ruthless in his rule. Anyone with magic is seen as a threat, and he has them executed."
***
The king of the kingdom of Valhalla, Ragnar, was sitting on his throne, deep in conversation with his advisor. They discussed various matters of state, such as tax collection and border protection, when the advisor brought up a new topic.
The room was eerily quiet for a moment as the crystal began to glow, its light filling the room. Both the king and the advisor knew what this meant - the glowing of the crystal was a sign that someone was using magic.
The advisor's eyes widened with shock as he watched the glow of the crystal, his voice full of disbelief. "Impossible..." he whispered. "Your majesty, I was certain that all the wizards of Glacirien had been dead for days now. How could one have survived?"
King Ragnar's expression hardened, his eyes fixed on the crystal as he considered the implications. "It seems we were mistaken," he said, his voice low and grave. "Somehow, one of the wizards of Glacirien has survived. We must find out who and where this mage is."
The advisor nodded in agreement, his own expression troubled. "Of course, your majesty," he said. "We must send out our soldiers to search for this wizard and bring him to you. The magic of Glacirien is dangerous and cannot be left in the hands of someone unknown."
***
Alistair stirred, his head pounding as he drifted back into consciousness. He found himself lying in a soft bed in a comfortable room of an inn, his surroundings familiar and comforting. Still weary and weak from the massive spell he had cast, he tried to sit up, but his head swam and he fell back down onto the pillows with a groan.
As he lay there, trying to regain his bearings, the door to the room creaked open and Thorin walked in, looking relieved at the sight of Alistair awake. "Hey, you're awake," he said, walking over to the bed and sitting down on the edge.
"Yeah, I'm awake," Alistair replied, rubbing his forehead wearily. He tried to sit up again but winced in pain. "Ugh, I feel like I've been hit by a horse."
Thorin's eyebrows furrowed as he looked at Alistair, clearly confused and a bit accusatory. "Why didn't you tell me you're a wizard before?" he asked bluntly, his voice betraying a hint of annoyance.
Alistair avoided Thorin's gaze, guilt written all over his face. "I didn't want anyone to know," he confessed softly. "I've been hiding it for so long, it's become second nature to keep it hidden."
Alistair's words caught in his throat as Thorin hugged him, completely taken aback by the gesture. "Don't worry," Thorin said softly, his arms tight around Alistair. "I'll protect you."
Just as Thorin and Alistair were having their moment, Lucius appeared in the doorway with a smirk plastered on his face. "Aww, how cute," he cooed sarcastically, unable to resist chiming in.
Lucius entered the room, a wicked glint in his eyes, his expression uncharacteristically warm. He carried a sword, its blade gleaming in the low light. "Hey, kiddo," he said, "thanks for saving this village. I can't thank you enough, so I got you this." He held out the sword toward Alistair, his smile growing even wider as he waited for a reaction.
Alistair took the sword in his hands, his fingers running along the length of the blade. He slowly unsheathed the weapon, the blade shining brightly in the candlelit room. He held it up, admiring the craftsmanship and balance of the sword, feeling the weight in his hands.
Alistair slowly slid the sword back into its scabbard, his movements careful and precise. As the blade slid home in the scabbard, he could feel the satisfying click as the blade locked into place. He looked up at Lucius, gratitude and confusion warring in his eyes.
Lucius noticed Alistair's expression and couldn't help but ask, "Why so sad? Don't you like it?" His tone was curious, as if genuinely taken aback by Alistair's reaction.
Alistair looked down at the sword in his hands, a sense of unease settling over him. "You do know that I'm not good at fighting..." he admitted, his voice quiet.
Both Thorin and Lucius couldn't help but chuckle at Alistair's admission, their laughter filling the room. Alistair turned crimson with embarrassment, waving his hands in protest. "Hey! Don't laugh at me!" he exclaimed, his cheeks burning with mortification.
Thorin, still snickering slightly, shook his head at Alistair. "I can teach you, idiot," he said affectionately. "Just because you're not skilled at something now doesn't mean you can't learn."
Alistair turned to Thorin with a pleading look in his eyes. "Can't we explore more?" he asked, hope flickering in his voice. "We can't just stay in one village."
Thorin smiled warmly at Alistair, a sense of eagerness in his eyes. "Yeah, you're right," he conceded. "We can't just stay in one village. Let's see what else is out there."
***
Lucius stood at the edge of the village, waving farewell to Thorin and Alistair. "Goodbye, you bunch of kids," he called out with a hint of sarcasm. "And take care now, won't you?"
Alistair and Thorin walked away from Lucius, amused by his gruff exterior. Alistair shook his head and chuckled, saying, "Lucius can be a bit mean at times," he admitted. "But deep down, he's actually pretty kind."
Thorin nodded in agreement, a hint of relief in his voice. "Yeah, I'm glad he's not with us anymore," he echoed. "I don't think I could've handled his... unique personality for much longer."
Thorin rolled his eyes, his expression a mix of annoyance and amusement. "Oh great, you're coming with us?" He tried to shake off Lucius's arm but failed. "Let me go, old man!" he grumbled.
Lucius chuckled, refusing to relinquish his grip on Thorin's shoulder. "Old man? I'm not that old, kiddo," he retorted, his grip firm. "And I can still keep up with you young ones, don't you worry."
As Thorin and Lucius started sniping at each other, Alistair stood off to the side, trying to diffuse the situation. "Hey, guys, don't fight, chill—" he interjected, his voice drowned out by the banter between the other two.
As the sun began to descend, the sky painted in hues of orange and red, they continued their journey together. Alistair couldn't help but laugh at the sight of Thorin and Lucius arguing like an old married couple.
Alistair decided to stop them before they both fight for real, "Stop fighting!" Alistair said but they just won't listen.
"Seems like I'm going to be stuck with these idiots... Wait for me!"
TO BE CONTINUED.