Chapter 2: A Quiet Village (Revised)

Chapter 2: A Quiet Village (Revised)

On the outskirts of a village, nearly six miles away from the petrified forest, someone began shouting.

"Clark! Clark! Come out and help!" A teenage boy was sleeping under a tree. The boy was dressed in a faded shirt, with worn out shorts, both of which were tan-colored. Upon closer inspection, he appeared to be at least seventeen years of age. The boy had an average face, brown hair, with an average build. The only thing that stood out was his height, measuring 6'0.

"Clark! Come help with the forge!" The voice came from a small pudgy kid, at least nine years old. The two appeared to be related as they held the same features and even had similar clothes. He stood over the sleeping youth.

"Ugh...Benjamin shut uuuuup." The youth opened his eyes and began standing up. He lazily stretched his body before looking down at his brother.Updated from novelb(i)n.c(o)m

"Amy is even helping out, if you don't help, I'll tell her, you love her!"

"Ben-" Before Clark could finish, the little pudgy boy ran off. Surprisingly, the pudgy boy was quick on his feet.

"Ben! Wait!" Clark chased after his brother, falling behind. Eventually, they made it to a small village, it held 200 people. People began making way for the two boys, in a rehearsed matter, showing the familiarity of the inhabitants.

"Tell my daughter Amy to be home before dinner!" A middle-aged lady shouted with a smile.

"We will, Mrs.Ann." Benjamin shouted, his speed not slowing at all. He turned abruptly, running into a small workshop. Clark grit his teeth and ran inside.

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"Pay attention, Amy. This blade will be placed onto the shaft, making your spear complete."

Bang. Bang. Bang.

An old man with short white hair and a long beard hammered away at an anvil. Sweat dripped down his wrinkled forehead, as he poured all his concentration onto the 11-inch blade.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

His robust figure rhythmically moved. The timing of each strike near perfect. The spear blade began taking shape under his movements.

A few feet away, a young girl stared at the old man working, gripping a towel. She wore a plain, green, short sleeve shirt, with brown pants. Her face dripped with sweat, and her brown hair clung to her forehead, but she kept her green eyes locked on the old man, rarely blinking. She had the face of an average village girl, fifteen years old in age, yet her body showed off faint muscle. One could assume she didn't shy away from physical activity. Occasionally the old man would stop and the young girl would rush to wipe his forehead, showing the utmost attentiveness.

Finally, the old man stood up, quenching the blade. He held the blade up under the lamplight, examining every part of it. He nodded his head satisfactorily, and eventually began sharpening the blade.

"Elder Davis, is this spear really for me?" Amy asked, anticipation apparent in her eyes.

"Hmmm, Benjamin is still too young and Clark still..." Before the old man could finish speaking, the pudgy, Benjamin ran up to Amy.

"Did...I...Miss...It?" Benjamin asked, taking huge breaths in between his words. Clark also ran in, breathing heavily. Glaring at Benjamin, before glancing at Amy then at Elder Davis.

"Sorry Ben, it's almost over."

"Aww, it's all because of Clark." Benjamin responded dejectedly, glaring at Clark.

Elder Davis smiled at Benjamin, before continuing to sharpen the spear blade.

"Hey...Amy..." Clark stared at the girl who held his heart, not knowing what to say. As he noticed he was covered in sweat and probably didn't smell too good, his face began turning red.

"Hello, Clark." Amy responded politely with a smile, she then turned to focus on Elder Davis again.

whiiiiiiizzz.

Elder Davis stood up, walking over to a table, he then began assembling the short cross spear. The shaft of the spear was the same height as Amy, 5'2. The shaft was plain, made from enchanted redwood, rivaling the hardness of most metals. The blade was made from steel, its sharpness apparent. Elder Davis stood up, handing the spear to Amy.

Amy excitedly took the spear. Looking up and down repeatedly. The design was plain and it stood 11-inches above Amy's head, but the simplicity enhanced the quality of it. Elder Davis looked on with a smile.

"Oh wow!" Benjamin said in awe of the spear. Clark looked on, not too interested.

"When do I get my own weapon, Grandpa Davis?"

"Hohoho. In 3 years child." Elder Davis responded with a haughty laugh, as he stroked his beard.

"3 years is too long!" Benjamin protested looking disappointed. He then turned to Clark, "Why don't you ask for a weapon, Clark?"

"That's because..." Clark smiled bitterly while thinking of a way to respond, Amy stared at him curiously.

"That's enough Ben. Go watch Amy practice the spear." Elder Davis interrupted. Shooing away Ben and Amy. Soon the workshop was cleared out leaving Clark and Elder Davis alone together.

"It's been twelve years, Clark." Elder Davis had a sorrowful expression.

"I know but I..." Clark stared down at his feet, feeling uneasy.

"Why did it happen Grandpa Davis? If I just...Maybe my father..."

"Haaah." Elder Davis let out a sigh, looking at Clark. He began to recall the story of his son's death.

12 years ago a black pillar decimated a few km of forest. This small catastrophe occurred during a routine hunt, causing many animals and monsters to flee. At the time Clark was only 5. His father, Jacob, took him along to hunt for the first time. Everything was normal until the black pillar emerged from the forest, killing everything within a few km and causing many monsters to flee.

"Let's find us some fresh whores! Whaddya' say boys!" The Bald man turned around facing a crowd of at least 200.

Yeah!!!!! The men shouted in response and marched towards the village gate.

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Elder Davis looked at the increasingly grave situation, A bandit raid party of at least 200 marched forward. Although the village held 200 people, 100 were women, children, and the elderly. 50 were farmers with little combat potential, and out of the 50 remaining 10 were injured. A force of 40 barely trained villagers versus 200 bandits experienced in combat.

"Shit!" A villager turned pale as he saw the bandits march toward the village.

The path to escape was blocked by the petrified forest, although the most damage was done 12 years ago, a huge group of knights, mages, and alchemists were sent into the forest to investigate yet only one alchemist returned, with a broken mind. The forest was deemed dangerous and the villagers were advised to move but they stubbornly stayed. Who could just uproot their families and livelihood? Although many regretted it now.

"Can we surrender? M-Maybe they'll take some money, food, alcohol, and weapons. " One villager trembled.

"Damn it! They'll want women too! Will you give your wife or daughter up?"

The Villagers began to argue.

"That's right they won't stop with our possessions, we fight or we die!"

"If we die who will take care of our families? Maybe Elder Davis can make them some high-quality weapons and they'll leave?"

"Like hell, those fuckers have 'rape' written on their faces! Maybe you can watch your wife get pushed down, but I sure as hell won't!"

"He's just thinking of everyone, no one wants to die."

"Oh fuck off! Both of you are cowards!"

"Or maybe you're just one dumbfuck with a death wish!"

"Quiet!" Elder Davis finally spoke up.

"Both of you are wrong! If we fight and lose, they'll still take everything, kill the elderly, rape the women, and sell the children as slaves! If we let them push us over they'll still do the same! Both roads lead to the same place!" The villagers nodded inwardly at Elder Davis' words. The two choices held similar outcomes, and who could trust bandits to follow through with negotiations?

At the same time Amy, Clark, and Benjamin pushed a cart filled with swords and leather armor. Benjamin pulled a sword with a black scabbard and ran to Elder Davis, handing it to him.

"Are you ok, Clark?" Amy whispered, her hands gripping her spear tightly.

"Yeah...I'm fine." Clark felt light-headed and wanted to vomit, the swords began bringing the terror of 12 years ago to the present moment.

'Could I protect Amy? Will she be...right in front of me? Will my brother be sold as a slave? Will Grandpa Davis be killed?' Clark grew increasingly pale, he began to hear his mother's hateful voice.

'It's your fault he died Clark. You failed your father and you'll fail all these people.'

"Clark!" Amy yelled, she grabbed Clark's hand, snapping him out his daze.

"I believe in you, Clark."

"Haah." Clark let out a deep breath, determination appearing in his eyes.

"Thank you, Amy."Clark grabbed a sword and walked towards his Grandfather.

'I can do this, it's not like back then.' Clark pushed down the feelings of apprehension in his chest. Amy gripped her spear even tighter and followed behind him.

Elder Davis watched and nodded inwardly, feeling proud of Clark. He looked at the 40 villagers who showed fear, they served as the only defense for 160 innocent lives.

Kenneth ran to Elder Davis.

"We moved everyone into the village storehouse. We're ready when you are." Elder Davis Nodded his head and stepped forward.

"I've decided on the best course of action, we will neither surrender nor will we fight. We'll give these bastards a portion of our valuables, money, food, and alcohol. But we won't let them take it all. Equip yourselves with weapons and armor and stand strong, we don't want to lose people but neither do they. It's beneficial for both sides if we do this."

The 40 villagers felt better when they heard the plan, some sighing with relief, others still nervous.

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At the same time, Ira walked through a forest, before arriving at a small overlook, seeing a village roughly 700 feet away. Below him he could see a group of men, led by a bald muscular man, heading toward the village, that was surrounded by a 8-foot wooden fence.

"Oh?" He grinned, exposing white teeth.

"Clothes, someone has to have some clothes for me." His eyes lit up, as he stared ahead. An old man stopped outside the gate, letting it close behind him. The bandits arrived in front of the old man in an imposing manner.

Ira tried to focus his hearing on the conversation between the old man and the bald bandit leader.

"Also...I...Weapons...Man...Quality..." The wind made it hard to hear, but Ira still caught small bits of the exchange.

"Ah! I'll need a weapon too!" He smiled brightly before disappearing from the spot. Only faint traces of black mist were left behind.

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