Malora

Chapter 3

Malora stared out the small window of her bedroom, her amber eyes following the fog as it clung to the treeline. The mist wrapped the world in quiet stillness. She had slept well—though not as soundly as when she drank the elvish lullaby—but it was better than most nights on the journey. Feeling clean, rested, and dressed in fresh clothes brought her a deep comfort she had sorely missed.

    Only her hunger remained unsatisfied, but she knew that would soon change.

    A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Malora turned and opened it to find her mother, father, and baby brother waiting. It was time to head out again. Together, they descended the stairs, where the innkeeper greeted them with a warm smile and led them to a small dining room.

    The meal, though simple, was hearty and delicious. Malora savored every bite. Eating a real breakfast in the warmth of the inn made the day ahead seem more manageable.

    With their stomachs full and spirits lifted, they left the inn, the quiet morning air welcoming them back to the road. The cart creaked as they climbed aboard, the familiar sound of wheels on dirt marking the start of another day's travel.

    Only four days remained until they reached their destination.

    Before their evening with Rurik, Malora had barely noticed the passing landscapes. Her mind had been elsewhere, too distracted to appreciate the sights. But the second half of the journey had been far more pleasant, and now she found herself enjoying the natural beauty of the kingdom of Lagorium—at least, when she wasn't engrossed in her new book.

    They had crossed rolling grassy plains and overgrown forests. Now, as Malora sat beside her father in the passenger seat, she gazed out at an endless expanse of wheat fields. The golden rows of barley swayed rhythmically in the wind, their soft rustling almost hypnotic.

    "It looks like it never ends," she murmured, unaware she had spoken aloud.

    "That's how you know we're close," her father replied, smiling. "These fields stretch for miles, circling the entire city of Gaarom."

    Malora fell silent, letting the thought sink in. How many people live in Gaarom to need this much food?

    "I can't even imagine if we were farmers," Feroth said, admiration in his voice. "Harvesting all this wheat... transporting it."

    "I'm sure it pays well," Aris chimed in from the back of the cart.

    "No doubt about that," Feroth agreed, his gaze still on the golden expanse. "There's no more honest work than this."

    Malora's eyes remained on the horizon, where the wheat met the sky. The scale of the operation—how much work it took to feed a city as vast as Gaarom—filled her with quiet awe.

    After two more days of steady travel, the terrain began to rise, and the altitude became noticeable. Soon, they entered a new forest, its trees so tall and thick that sunlight struggled to reach the forest floor.

    "Root!" Feroth called, his voice breaking the peaceful quiet.

    Everyone braced as the cart jolted violently, lifting them an inch or two into the air. The uneven road had become even rougher, with thick roots stretching across it.

    As they continued uphill, winding through the dense forest, anticipation built. Feroth knew what was coming, but he said nothing, not wanting to spoil the surprise.

    When they finally crested the summit, the trees parted, revealing a breathtaking view.

    "Wow..." Aris whispered, her amber eyes wide with awe.