Chapter 41

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The crowd closed dangerously around them, their narrowed eyes crushing as rocks launched at them.

A staff rose over the crowd before a baritone voice resonated. "Enough!" The foot froze, and silence weighted over the people who moved away to let place to a man with long decades scarring his skin. His eyes were dull and heavy with large under bags as if to bear what he had witnessed over the years. His hair was waves of grey strands cascading to his shoulders, stripped of their youth but healthy with care. He moved and limped with his staff towards the foreigners, one of his pants legs hollowed and floating. Respect whiffed from his aura so much that anyone wouldn't dare talk.

His eyes then landed on the group, hard and scrutinizing. Amaya's breath stilled. "What do you strangers want?" he jutted his chin high, standing firm and imposing as if his staff was there for mere decoration and not for keeping him standing.

"They attacked Arthur, Father! We must chase them away-" The older brother started, his mouth closing shut with a stare from the older man.

Amaya was reminded of her father, who could lift a crowded room or silence it with the move of his finger. "We don't want you any harm," she said, giving a pointy glare at Bett for the head of the young man still hanging from their tight grip. "Bett," Amaya whispered, and they sighed before dropping the boy on the ground. He crawled immediately to his father but glared from behind his back.

The old man raised his voice again. "My question was left unanswered."

Amaya stepped forward, still wary of the crowd, "We are here because we are looking for the Favor."

His eyes narrowed in a slit. "Why do you think you can find it here?"

Lach chimed in, "We know how you people have arrived here," he glanced at the crowd. "You flew away from the war and-" a flash of red hair. Something sharp and cold pushed against Lach's throat. His eyes fell to the tip of the blade the snarling older brother held. Lach raised his hand. "We don't want to harm any of you," the words were intended for his ears only.

"You touch my brother again, and I kill you," he spat.

"Well, he is more useful than his brother." Bett snorted.

"We are not here to fight." Amaya turned to the crowd. "Ornuv is in danger, and if we don't find the Favor soon, it will be lost."

"What is happening in the continent is not our problem!" Someone shouted from the crowd, rising roars of agreement.

"Release him," the old man said quietly, eyes fixing his son. The young man clenched his teeth before releasing the pressure on Lach's neck. He rubbed the sensitive skin, and Amaya's shoulders deflated.

"As you know, we no longer have any link with the Continent. What is happening there is not our concern." The old man posed his palms firmly on the round handle of his staff.

Amaya frowned deeply. "You have fought the war of the Continent. How can you say that?"

The man raised a hand, his sleeve falling to the hollow of his arm, a dark drawing visible on his wrist. "We left the Continent for a reason. Whatever you are looking for is not here." His eyes were sharp. "Now you must go."

"Let's get out of here," Lach said, eyes glancing at the crowd.

"Wait-" Amaya stepped forward, and Lach reached for her, but she was already in front of the old man.

"Please, listen to us." The old man raised a brow. "You must know that whatever conflict arises on the Continent will also touch Keso. You won't be left untouched. Keso still belongs to Ornuv."

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