They returned to the village, the rescued villagers and hunters following behind them, their faces etched with a mixture of relief and exhaustion. The villagers welcomed them with open arms, celebrating their return and praising their bravery. Robin tended to the injured, using her knowledge of herbs and healing magic to mend their wounds.
As Markus sat beside Gordon's bed, he noticed a flicker of movement. Gordon's eyelids fluttered, and he let out a soft groan.
"Gordon?" Markus whispered, his heart pounding in his chest.
Gordon's eyes slowly opened, his gaze unfocused at first, then gradually focusing on Markus's face. "Markus?" he whispered, his voice weak.
"You're awake," Markus said, his voice filled with relief.
Gordon looked around the room, his eyes filled with confusion. "What… what happened?" he asked.
Markus and Sharon explained everything that had happened, from the hag's resurrection to the final battle. Gordon listened intently, his face etched with a mixture of disbelief and horror.
"I… I don't remember anything," he said finally. "The last thing I remember is… the dark energy… then nothing."
But he was alive. And he had friends, people who cared about him, who had risked everything to save him. He looked at Markus and Sharon, his eyes filled with gratitude.
"Thank you," he said, his voice hoarse. "Thank you for saving me."
"We'll always be here for you, Gordon," Sharon said, her voice filled with warmth.
Markus nodded in agreement. "We're a team," he said. "We'll face whatever comes next… together."
Just then, the door to the room burst open, and a woman rushed in, her face etched with worry and relief. It was Elara, but not in her usual calm demeanor. Behind her trailed several villagers, also looking anxious.
"Gordon!" the woman cried, rushing to his bedside. It was his mother. She embraced him tightly, her tears flowing freely. "My son! You're alive! I was so worried. I thought…" She couldn't finish the sentence, the fear of losing him still too raw.
Gordon looked at his mother, his eyes filled with love and gratitude. He reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm alright, Mother," he said, his voice still weak but filled with reassurance. "I'm home."
His mother pulled back slightly, her eyes searching his face, looking for any sign of lasting injury. "You've been through so much," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I was so afraid…"
Robin stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on Gordon's mother's shoulder. "He is strong," she said gently. "He is a hero. He and his friends saved our village."
Gordon's mother looked at Markus and Sharon, her eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you," she said, her voice choked with emotion. "Thank you for bringing my son home."
Markus and Sharon exchanged a warm smile. They knew that Gordon's recovery would be long and difficult, but he had his mother, his friends, and his village to support him. He would be alright.
The villagers who had followed Gordon's mother into the room now crowded around the bed, offering their well wishes and expressing their gratitude. The room was filled with a sense of joy and relief, a celebration of Gordon's return to the world of the living.
It turned out it wasn't long or even difficult for Gordon to fully recover. He just needed to sleep for a night, and then he was back to a healthy Gordon.
He soon returned to his duty as hunter. Patrolling around the forest and sometimes helped villagers who needed his assistance.
Meanwhile in the Markus's house several days after the battle a group of figures appeared, their presence radiating an aura of power and mystery. They were the Keepers of the Flame.
They moved with a some sense of authority, their forms wreathed in flickering flames, their faces hidden by their cowls. They walked directly to Markus's house, their footsteps leaving no trace on the dusty path.
Markus, who was tending to his small garden, looked up in surprise as the Keepers approached. He recognized them instantly, his heart pounding in his chest. He had encountered them before, during the hag's initial attacks, and he knew they were beings of immense power.
Sharon, who was inside the house, emerged, her face filled with a mixture of awe and apprehension. She had heard stories of the Keepers, legends whispered in hushed tones, tales of their power and their enigmatic ways.
The Keepers stopped before Markus's house, their glowing eyes fixed on him. They did not speak, but their presence filled the air with a sense of power.
Markus bowed his head respectfully. "Keepers of the Flame," he said, his voice filled with reverence. "What brings you to our village?"
One of the Keepers stepped forward, his form slightly more defined than the others. He raised his hand, and the flames around him flickered, revealing a glimpse of his face. It was an old face, etched with wisdom and power, his eyes burning with an otherworldly light.
"Markus," the Keeper said, his voice resonating with ancient authority. "We have come to you because of what you have done."
Markus exchanged a nervous glance with Sharon. He knew they had faced great danger, that they had fought against a powerful evil. But he didn't know if the Keepers had come to praise them or to punish them.
"We have sensed the awakened power that flows through you," the Keeper continued. "The power of your ancestors. It is an old power and dangerous."
"My ancestors...." Markus muttered to himself. "Are you sure about that?"
"Yes." The Keeper said firmly. "Because one of your ancestors had awakened it too and we were there too back then to help him fulfill his destiny."
Markus nodded slowly, understanding the Keeper's words. He now knew why the power within him felt old and somehow familiar to him.
"You have used it so you know that your power is very effective against dark power." the Keeper said. "The hag is just a small fry compared to darkness out there, your destiny isn't just a mere hunter in this small village."
He paused, his gaze fixed on Markus. "We have seen your courage, your strength, your selflessness. We believe that you are destined for something greater."
Markus looked at Sharon, who was watching him with a mixture of pride and concern. He knew that the Keeper's words were a calling, a summons to a greater purpose.
"We offer you a choice, Markus," the Keeper said. "You can choose to remain here, in your village, living a peaceful life. Or you can choose to join us, to become a guardian of the flame, a protector against darkness."
A wave of conflicting emotions washed over Markus. He felt a surge of excitement, a sense of purpose, at the prospect of joining the Keepers of the Flame. It was an honor, a calling, a chance to dedicate his life to a greater good. But beneath the elation, a bitter taste lingered in his heart.
He looked at Sharon whose face had been etched with worry and fear during the recent ordeal. He thought of Gordon, still recovering from the hag's dark magic, his body and spirit bearing the scars of their battle. He remembered Gareth, lying lifeless in the Shadowwood Glade, a sacrifice to the darkness they had faced.
Where were you then? the unspoken question echoed in his mind. Where were you when we were fighting for our lives, when we were facing creatures of nightmare, when we were staring into the abyss?
The Keepers, with their immense power, their ancient wisdom, had remained aloof, watching from the shadows as Markus, Gordon, Sharon, and the other hunters risked everything to protect their village. They did nothing to help them.
The elation he had initially felt began to sour. Was this truly the path he wanted to take? To join an order that seemed so distant, so detached from the struggles of ordinary people? An order that only appeared after the real fighting was done?
He looked at the Keeper, the light in his eyes now dimmed by doubt. "I… I am honored by your offer," Markus said, his voice hesitant. "But… I have some questions."
The Keeper nodded, his expression unreadable.
"You saw what happened," Markus continued, his voice growing stronger. "You saw the creatures we faced, the dark magic that threatened to consume us. Where were you? Why didn't you help us? Do you know that one of my friends is dead!?"
The Keeper remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on Markus. Then, he replied, his voice calm and measured. "We observe," he said. "We watch. We wait for the moment when our intervention is necessary."
"But we were dying!" Markus exclaimed, his voice rising in frustration. "Our village was attacked, our people were taken, our friends were injured, some even died!"
The Keeper's expression did not change. "Sometimes… suffering is necessary. Sometimes… sacrifices must be made."
Markus stared at the Keeper, his heart filled with a mixture of anger and disappointment. Sacrifices? He thought. Is that what we were? Sacrifices? Pawns in some game?
He looked at Sharon, who was watching him with concern. He saw the doubt in her eyes, the same doubt that was gnawing at his own soul.
He knew he couldn't join them. Not now. Not with these unanswered questions, this lingering sense of injustice.
"I… I cannot accept your offer," Markus said, his voice firm. "Not until I understand… not until I know… what you truly stand for."
The Keeper nodded slowly, his eyes filled with understanding. "Your journey has only just begun, Markus," he said. "And the questions you ask… are just as important as the answers you seek."
And with that, the Keepers of the Flame vanished, leaving Markus and Sharon alone, their hearts heavy with the weight of their experiences and the uncertainty of the future.