All the creatures knelt on the ground and spoke in unison, "We hope you will save us, Savior. You are our last hope."
Leonhard was still processing what had happened when a voice cut through his thoughts.
"Leonhard! Where are you, son?!"
He whipped around to see his mother approaching, wrapped in a blanket to keep out the cold. Suddenly, the creatures vanished as if they had never been there at all. The eerie disappearance sent a chill down his spine, and Leonhard hurried toward his mom.
"Mom! Mom, I'm here!"
"Son, where were you?"
Leonhard scanned the surroundings one last time, catching sight of the orc from earlier. The creature put a finger to his mouth, whispering, "Shhhhh, don't say anything."
Martha cupped Leonhard's face in her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze.
"Look at me, son, and answer me."
Leonhard hesitated but eventually replied, "I heard a strange noise, and I went to check what it was."
Martha sighed, her expression a mix of worry and disappointment.
"I thought I raised you better. You don't follow strange noises in the forest in the middle of the night."
She pulled the blanket tighter around herself and gestured back to their small campsite.
"Now go back to sleep."
Leonhard lay down, his mind still racing with thoughts of the creatures and their desperate plea. Sleep did not come easily, but eventually, exhaustion pulled him under.
When Leonhard awoke, the morning sun was already creeping through the trees, casting long shadows on the forest floor. Martha was packing their belongings, folding the blankets with careful hands. Her movements were quiet, almost too quiet, as if she didn't want to disturb him. Leonhard rubbed his eyes and sat up, feeling the stiffness in his muscles from sleeping on the ground.
"Good morning," he mumbled, stretching his arms.
Martha glanced at him, offering a faint smile. "Morning, son. Did you sleep well?"
Leonhard hesitated, remembering the strange creatures from the night before. "Sort of," he replied. "I kept dreaming about... things."
Martha didn't ask what things, just kept folding the blanket. Leonhard knew she was still worried, even if she didn't say it. He looked around at their campsite—just a small clearing surrounded by thick trees and bushes. The fire pit was cold now, just ashes and a few charred sticks left.
"We should get moving," Martha said. "We've still got a long way to go."
Leonhard nodded and helped her pack the rest of their things. They didn't have much—just some clothes, a bit of dried meat, and a waterskin that was almost empty. They had to find a stream soon. As they walked, the forest seemed quieter than usual. Even the birds weren't singing.
Leonhard kept glancing over his shoulder, half expecting one of those creatures to appear again. Martha noticed but didn't say anything. She just walked with that determined look on her face, like nothing could shake her.
After a while, Leonhard couldn't take the silence anymore. "Mom... about last night," he started.
Martha stopped and looked at him, her eyes serious but calm. "It's okay, Leonhard. I know things have been strange lately. You don't have to explain."
"But what if they come back?" he asked.
She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Whatever happens, we'll face it together. Just... be careful when you use your magic. You know how dangerous it is."
Leonhard swallowed hard. He knew she was still scared of it—even if she didn't show it. The first time he used fire magic , she had just stared at him like he was someone else. But instead of pushing him away, she had just hugged him tightly and whispered, "We'll figure it out."
They walked for most of the morning, their footsteps crunching over fallen leaves and twigs. The sun was high when they finally found a stream. Martha filled the waterskin while Leonhard splashed his face, the cold water waking him up completely.
After they drank their fill, they kept moving. Around midday, they heard the distant clatter of wheels and the creak of wood. Leonhard's heart skipped a beat—finally, some help.
They hurried toward the road and saw a worn-looking carriage being pulled by two tired horses. An old man with a scruffy beard was holding the reins. Martha raised her hand to wave him down.
"Excuse me!" she called out. "Can we get a ride?"
The old man pulled the horses to a stop and looked them over, suspicious at first, but then he softened. "Where you headed?"
"To Lionfelt," Martha said. "We're traveling from our village, but it's been... rough."
The man grunted, eyeing Leonhard, who just stared at the ground. "Ain't got much room, but you can sit in the back if you don't mind the crates."
"Thank you," Martha said, relief washing over her face.
They climbed into the back, squeezing between crates of vegetables and sacks of grain. As the carriage creaked back into motion, Leonhard leaned against the wooden side, feeling his eyes grow heavy again.