Eric Vang's Quest of the heart

Rebuilding Hope

Eric, Axel, Sliver, Shadow, and Snowflake set forth from Freehaven, their saddles creaking and their hooves clattering against the cobblestone as they headed towards the city of Dranta. The journey ahead was long, but the promise of rest and information propelled them forward. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of distant forests and the whisper of secrets yet to be uncovered. The road stretched out like a serpent, weaving through the rolling hills that grew increasingly greener with each passing mile.

They traveled in relative peace, the only sounds the steady rhythm of their horses' hooves and the occasional call of a bird. Eric couldn't help but feel a sense of unease, though. The prophecy weighed heavily on his mind, a constant reminder that the fate of the world rested on their shoulders. He stole glances at his friends, wondering if they felt the same pressure, but their expressions remained stoic, focused on the path ahead.

The days passed in a blur of greenery and the warmth of the sun. They stopped at inns along the way, to fill up on some nice hot food. Each night, Eric took the time to scribble in his journal, detailing their journey and the people they encountered. His hand often strayed to the page, sketching the faces of those they had met and the creatures they had fought.

One evening, as they approached a dense forest, the air grew cooler, and the shadows grew longer. The trees whispered secrets to each other, their branches groaning with the weight of untold stories. The group decided to make camp, the fire casting a warm glow against the looming darkness. They ate in silence, the crackle of the fire the only sound that pierced the stillness.

As the night deepened, Eric felt his thoughts drifting to the Spine Mountains, to the moment the lich had been defeated. He remembered the surge of power that had filled him, the way the lightning had coursed through his veins. It was a feeling he never wanted to experience again, yet it also filled him with a strange exhilaration. He glanced at Axel, who sat with his back to a tree, his eyes closed but his hand never leaving the hilt of his sword. He knew that his friend was also thinking about the battles to come.

Suddenly, the quiet was shattered by the sound of snapping twigs and the rustle of leaves. Eric's heart leaped into his throat, and he was on his feet, his hand reaching for the daggers at his sides. The others followed suit, their eyes scanning the darkness for any signs of danger. Shadow and Snowflake stood at the ready, their hackles raised, and Sliver transformed into his horse battle form, his fur bristling.

Out of the shadows emerged a small, trembling figure, half-elf, half-dragon, with wide, terrified eyes that glinted in the firelight. His clothes were tattered, and his small frame was covered in dirt and bruises. Eric's heart went out to the child immediately.

"Please," the boy whispered, his voice trembling. "Don't hurt me."

The group stared at the child, their weapons at the ready, but the look of absolute terror in his eyes made Eric's grip on his daggers loosen. The boy looked no older than ten, with a mop of unruly dark hair that framed around his dragon and his pointed elven ears. His skin was pale, almost translucent, and Eric could see the veins pulsing beneath the surface, hinting at his dragon heritage. His eyes were a pure polished gold color. They were the eyes of innocence, filled with fear and desperation.

"Who are you?" Eric asked gently, his voice soothing, trying to ease the tremble in the child's voice.

The boy looked up, his gold eyes meeting Eric's blue ones. "My name is Ivory Art," he stuttered. "They... they took me from my village. I-I think they're looking for me." His voice quivered with each word, and Eric's heart went out to the terrified child.

Eric's heart clenched at the desperation in Ivory's voice. "Who took you?" he asked, kneeling down to be at eye level with the trembling child.

"The slave traders," Ivory murmured, his eyes darting back to the forest. "They came in the night, took me from my mother's arms, they, they, they killed her." he cried, tears spilling down his cheeks.