*clop! *clop! *clop!
The winds rushed past Elyn's cheeks as Meryn galloped hard against the road, hooves pounding the earth with rhythm and strength, the towering shadows of the forest of Evonjak already ahead of them.
The trees stood like titans in the distance, looming and dense, their thick branches clawing the skies and shrouding the land beneath in a deep darkness.
It looked less like a forest and more like a wall—an unwelcoming natural barrier separating the east from the west.
Elyn narrowed her eyes at the sight and gave another firm snap of the reins.
*snap!
"Haagh!" she called out, urging Meryn forward, but just before they reached the forest's edge, something caught her eye.
A gathering.
She pulled slightly on the reins,
*neigh!
slowing Meryn's gallop to a canter, her sharp gaze fixed on the unexpected group up ahead.
A large caravan, it seemed—wagons halted, people standing and murmuring near the entrance of the forest.
There were men and women, all travelers by the looks of their gear, some holding weapons, most looking uneasy.
Meryn let out a snort as they approached, the sound of her hooves drawing attention.
Several heads turned toward Elyn, and the tension in the air seemed to shift.
"Look over there…!" a woman called out, pointing toward Elyn.
"She's armed—those swords, she's got to be a mercenary!" someone else added.
A man stepped forward, aged and grey-bearded, wearing a worn coat that hung loose on his frame.
He squinted at Elyn, eyes scanning her figure, then lit up with a grin like he'd just found salvation itself.
"Well now, what perfect timing this is!" he said, tone cheerful as he stepped closer.
"Would you be willin' to help us with a troublesome matter, oh good-hearted soul?"
Elyn didn't even slow Meryn down any further.
With a deadpan stare, she pulled the reins slightly to the side, guiding Meryn around the man.
"No," she replied, voice flat and uninterested.
"I have business to be."
The horse began to canter away,
*clop! *clop! *clop!
but just as she started to leave, the sound of something clinking—coin—cut through the noise.
Elyn's ears perked slightly.
"What say… five kerrins?" the man's voice rang out louder than before, the weight of the words hanging heavy.
Elyn yanked the reins and pulled Meryn into a full stop.
Five kerrins.
Even she had to admit, that was quite the offer.
"Are you crazy? Five kerrins!?" a woman yelled, clearly familiar with the man, smacking him hard on the shoulder with a frustrated glare.
"Have you lost your damn mind?"
The man ignored her, his eyes fixed on Elyn, hopeful.
Without a word, Elyn dismounted Meryn, her boots landing with a muted crunch on the soil.
She adjusted her cloak as she stepped forward toward the aged man.
"What do you want me to do?" she asked plainly, her voice low but firm as always.
The aged man smirked with a knowing gleam in his eye, his fingers stroking the strands of his graying beard as he stepped forward.
"I know an experienced fighter when I see one," he said, his voice calm but firm.
"I've met all sorts in my younger days—mercenaries, bounty hunters, guild knights... and you, girl, your eidra's reekin' with power. Don't need fancy armor or a badge to know what kind of force you carry."
Before Elyn could respond, the aged woman standing beside him interjected sharply, her tone cutting through the air like a knife.
"No! We don't need her!" she snapped, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.
Her face was stern, wrinkled with frustration as she turned to glare at her husband.
"We have our own caravan guards, we don't need to waste coin on some stranger. This is unnecessary!"
Elyn's eyes shifted to the side, calmly examining the guards the woman referred to—about half a dozen men.
They stood in a loose line beside the first wagon, clad in basic leather armor and dented iron helmets.
Some carried bows slung lazily across their backs, while others rested their hands on chipped steel blades.
Their posture was relaxed, too relaxed, and their eyes didn't scan the forest like a trained warrior's should.
They were amateurs.
Hired muscle at best.
Perhaps good enough for repelling thieves on the road or handling a bandit or two—but not what waited inside the forest of Evonjak.
Elyn's expression didn't change, but she already knew.
If they entered the forest in this state, they wouldn't make it past the first night.
Especially if the dark things had already begun to stir.
Her gaze returned to the old man, who stood calmly despite his wife's protest, his eyes still focused on her.
"I assume," Elyn said, voice steady and flat, "you want me to escort your caravan through the forest?"
The man nodded, that familiar smirk still lingering on his face.
"Aye. Just get us through safely. No questions asked."
Elyn turned her eyes toward the wagons.
There were four in total, each pulled by two horses.
Their wooden frames were weathered and marked with the stains of travel, and above them were colorful fabric covers, likely once vibrant but now dulled from long exposure to dust and sun.
She could see crates tied down beneath the wagons, some covered in cloth, others sealed with waxed leather.
"Travelling merchants?" she asked.
"Aye," the old man confirmed proudly, puffing his chest a bit as he pointed his thumb toward the woman beside him.
"Me and my wife are famous around here. Exotic spices, rare ones too—straight from the southern coasts. You won't find better in any market west of Karion."
"I see," Elyn replied, voice low as she looked once more toward the forest.
The towering trees stretched far into the distance, their canopy thick enough to block out most of the sun.
Even from here, there was a stillness to the air around them, like the forest was holding its breath.
She could feel the pressure, the presence of something watching—something old.
After a long pause, she gave a slow, firm nod.
"It's a deal," she said at last. "I'll lead you through the forest... and protect you all whenever needed."
*Clap!
"All right!" With a sharp clap of his hands, the old man turned around and made his way toward one of the nearby wagons.
He rummaged through a few tied sacks, grunting as he reached inside one of them and pulled out a small pouch.
The clinking of coins inside was unmistakable as he walked back to Elyn and casually handed it over.
"Five kerrins, just like I promised," the aged man said with a grin, his tone light yet confident.
"Already?" Elyn asked, catching the pouch with a single hand.
Her voice carried a note of curiosity, her head tilting slightly.
"You could say," the old man shrugged, "I believe in your words—and more than that, I believe in your eyes. You've got the look of someone who's been through real things. That kind of look don't lie."
A sharp scoff suddenly cut through the air.
His wife, still standing nearby with her arms firmly crossed, stared at the whole exchange with disbelief.
"I can't believe you're putting your trust on some stranger," she snapped, her voice high-pitched and judgmental. "A woman, no less! What makes you think she can protect us better than the men we already paid!?"
Elyn tucked the pouch of kerrins into a side pocket beneath her belt and looked towards the woman with an unreadable expression.
Her tone remained calm, cool, as she answered.
"Trust me, lady. Eidra doesn't care whether you're old, young, man or woman. If you've got eidra in your veins, and you know how to use it—then strength follows. Simple as that."
*pfft!
Ferhold held back his laugh, pressing his knuckles to his lips.
His eyes darted to his wife, who now looked as if she had swallowed something bitter.
"Well then," Elyn muttered, shifting her gaze toward the horizon.
"Let's stop standing around. We need to move before night comes. That forest won't be kind when it gets dark."
The old man coughed again, clearly trying not to laugh out loud, then nodded.
"You're right, lass. Let's get going."
He turned back to the caravan, cupping his hands around his mouth before shouting with all the strength left in his lungs.
"Forward!"
The coachmen sitting atop each wagon raised their reins and snapped them down in unison.
Horses neighed and began to pull forward, hooves kicking at the soil while the wooden wheels groaned as they rolled over the uneven ground.
The caravan slowly began to move, inching its way toward the thick, dark edge of the forest that loomed ahead like a wall of shadows.
Without wasting another moment, Elyn turned and walked toward her horse.
Meryn waited, standing tall and calm, her ears twitching at the noise but remaining composed.
With one fluid motion, Elyn mounted up, swinging her leg over the saddle and planting her boots firmly into place.
Ferhold moved beside the caravan and walked a few steps alongside her.
"What's your name, lass? I'm Ferhold," he asked, still grinning with an air of casual charm.
"You don't need to know my name, Mr. Ferhold," Elyn replied without hesitation.
She gave the reins a small flick, and Meryn began to canter slowly beside the wagons, her stride smooth and steady.
Ferhold's wife, still watching from the other side of the caravan, scoffed loudly.
"This young woman lacks manners!" she exclaimed, clearly still annoyed at Elyn's presence.
Ferhold just chuckled under his breath, his eyes following the figure of Elyn as she rode just ahead.
"Don't worry," he muttered to himself, more certain than ever, "I trust this girl to protect us."
Ferhold's eyes followed Elyn's figure, not with admiration but with trust as if he had known her for a long time.