The Phoenix King #1 Bed of Ashes

Chapter 7 We're The Miller's

The intense afternoon sun beat down on them from overhead, causing sweat to bead on Vaelon's forehead and trickle down the back of his neck. He wiped his brow with a weary hand, feeling the heat radiate from the dusty ground beneath his feet. Rhea's face was flushed, and she fanned herself with a hand, looking more annoyed than tired but still clearly feeling the effects of the long hike. The sound of her labored breaths mixed with the rhythmic crunch of their footsteps on the dry dirt road.

Űnin, however, carried himself with a bright smile on his face, seeming more energetic than both of his companions combined. His eyes sparkled with excitement, and his steps were light and springy. The air was thick with the scent of warm earth and wildflowers, and the persistent buzz of insects provided a constant backdrop. Occasionally, a soft breeze would stir the leaves, offering brief but welcome relief from the oppressive heat.

"Where do you think this road will lead us?" Rhea asked, her voice a mixture of curiosity and fatigue, breaking the monotony of their trek.

"I'm not sure," Űnin replied, his eyes scanning the horizon, taking in the vast, rolling landscape dotted with patches of forest and open fields. "But I have a feeling we'll find what we're looking for soon."

Just as Űnin finished speaking, they came upon a wooden pole sticking out of the ground with a sign in the shape of an arrow. The rough wood was weathered, and the letters were painted in a faded red. It read, "Ashwood: 2 miles."

"Looks like we're almost there," Űnin said, a small smile appearing on his face. "I can't wait to rest my feet." He adjusted the pack on his back, feeling the weight of it pressing into his shoulders.

The group picked up their pace, the crunch of gravel underfoot quickening as they moved forward with renewed energy. The thought of a soft bed and a cold drink spurred them on as they trudged toward Ashwood. As they approached the town, the buildings' silhouettes grew sharper against the sky, and the welcoming smells of baking bread and roasting meat drifted toward them, making their stomachs growl with hunger and anticipation.

"I can already taste that bread," Rhea said, her annoyance giving way to excitement. The rich, yeasty aroma mingled with the savory scent of roasting meat, making her mouth water. "Let's hurry!"

Űnin laughed, his bright mood infectious. "Race you to the first building!" The playful challenge hung in the air, adding a spark of energy to their tired bodies.

Vaelon chuckled but shook his head. "You go ahead, Űnin. I'm saving my energy for that bed," he said, feeling the ache in his muscles with every step.

The three of them continued down the road, the promise of Ashwood urging them forward. With every step, the town came into clearer focus, the rough-hewn wooden buildings and cobblestone streets becoming more distinct. The inviting scents grew stronger, filling them with hope and excitement for what lay ahead. The hum of distant chatter and the occasional bark of a dog reached their ears, adding to the sense of nearing civilization.

Finally, they reached the town and were greeted by a bustling main street lined with shops and inns. The group made their way to a nearby bench and collapsed onto it, grateful for the chance to rest after their long journey. The bench, though simple, felt like a throne after their long trek.

From his seat on the bench, Űnin took in the sights and sounds of Ashwood. The charming brick buildings each had their own unique character, from the ivy-covered walls to the colorful shutters. The town square was adorned with a quaint gazebo and a small fountain, the sound of trickling water adding a soothing background noise. He observed the people milling about, enjoying the sunshine and each other's company.

The most popular place in town seemed to be a cozy tavern, where locals and travelers alike gathered to enjoy a cold drink and lively conversation. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses carried even to where Űnin sat. Across from the tavern was the old mill, its waterwheel turning lazily in the stream that ran through the town. The mill, though less bustling, had a serene charm, with only a few people coming and going.