Song of Seven

Song 13: Survivors

Amidst the desolation of the northern Sanctuary's ruins, Axel's keen senses caught a subtle shift in the shadows. The frost-draped trees whispered caution against the frigid winter winds as they concealed the mysterious figure that had caught the warriors eye. He shared a cautious glance with Seven, the weight of uncertainty heavy upon them. The two companions crouched low near one of the ruin battlements as they tried to catch a better glimpse of the movement in the trees. Seven wondered if the cultists had tracked them here, or if Percian had left a contingent of the Vayan armies to continue their search of the north. Fear gripped her heart, the last time they had an encounter she froze, too terrified of her own powers to use them in their defense.

Axel's breath escaped in barely audible puffs as he nodded toward the figure and motioned for Seven to follow him towards the perimeter of the tree line.  With deliberate care, they ventured near the woods, their movements like ghosts against the frozen backdrop of the wintery ruins. Axel's instincts guided them, his senses attuned to the subtlest changes in the forest's rhythm, he was a master at tracking enemies and signaled for Seven to remain at a distance behind him.

Seven's dreadlocks glistened with a frosty sheen in the dappled moonlight filtering through the tree branches, her arcane tattoos pulsed with power like faint echoes of her past. Her eyes, however, held a spark of caution and concern. She knew that her powers could deal with any trouble they might encounter ahead, but her reluctance to cause any more harm and destruction tugged at her heartstrings. 

At last, they discovered the makeshift camp nestled among the trees. The feeble glow of a campfire flickered, casting an orange light on the faces of the survivors huddled around it. These were the free folk, those who had managed to endure the onslaught of destruction and chaos at the sanctuary. Axel recognized a few of their faces and the leather and furs that people of the north lands wore. He sighed with relief, overjoyed that they had discovered people who had escaped the terrible battle that took place only a few days earlier. 

Axel, ever the pragmatic warrior, was inclined to approach and make contact. His sense of duty and hope told him that these survivors could be potential allies in their quest against the cult and the impending darkness. But Seven, with her knowledge of the fear and mistrust she had sown, urged caution.

"Wait, Axel," she whispered, her voice a gentle plea. "These people have suffered greatly. They may not look kindly upon a sorceress who was once their enemy. I don't blame them either, they'd have every right to string me up from one of these trees."

Axel considered Seven's words, his eyes narrowing as he observed the survivors. The campfire cast shadows that danced upon their faces, etching lines of weariness and resilience. The decision weighed upon him, the balance between caution and the need for allies and information a delicate one.

"They're survivors," Axel murmured, his voice barely audible. "They've seen the darkness firsthand, just as we have. We need to approach them carefully, with honesty and humility. I'll attempt to explain to them what has happened, and you'll need to share your story with them. I promise I won't let them harm you."

Seven nodded in reluctant agreement, her trepidation mirrored in her gaze. As they drew nearer to the camp, Axel led the way, his presence a shield and a bridge. He knew that trust could not be demanded but must be earned, step by cautious step.

With their hands raised in a gesture of surrender, Seven and Axel stepped out of the frost-draped shadows and into the camp of survivors. The chill of the northern wilderness seemed to hang in the air, mingling with the tension that enveloped the makeshift camp.

As they emerged, the survivors' reactions were a study in contrasts. Some raised their weapons, fear and mistrust etched across their faces, while others exchanged hushed murmurs, recognition flickering in their eyes.