Shattered Line

Chapter 4.1: Bartez and the Nightmare

A whimsical play of wind danced alongside streams of stardust. Forest leaves joined the symphony, twirling and sweeping from one forest edge to the next. The ground marked their interlude, but a zephyr's birth renewed the tumbling act, imbuing the dying green with one last burst.

Leef hopped on the fallen leaves, their demise expedited by the child's fun. His ruffled hair flopped from a vengeful gust. Yet, his energy propelled him forward as he weaved around trunks and under flourishing branches.

Isla watched him conjugate sounds with matching movements. He echoed the chirps of birds, the buzzing of insects, and even the howls of beasts.

She suppressed a smirk at his performance. "Does he always do this?" Isla asked while walking beside Rydin.

He chuckled and shifted the leather satchel he wore across his shoulder. "Leef entertains himself plenty."

She nodded. "With the weather like this, who could blame him."

The luscious treetop canopy thinned, ceasing to shade their travel from the peeking star. Another minute and they transitioned from looming trees to mild-mannered grass fields. A calm breeze circulated the scent of lilacs intermingled with fresh mint and damp grass. Beyond the grassland, a village sprouted forth, framed by pure white clouds and smooth gray stone. The wooden thatched rooftops gleamed wet beneath the evasive sunlight, flashing their traveling party.

"Can we stop here real quick? I need to inform the Elder we're heading to Lutenberg," Rydin voiced.

"That's fine." Isla yawned and rubbed her ear. She shadowed her eyes from the fleeting sun, peering at the village's defenses.

Well-constructed wooden watchtowers rose to the village's skyline. From afar, each cardinal direction had a guard post with soldiers stationed at multiple locations. Blunted metal cheval-de-frise lined the village's perimeter to create a fortification hoax. Considering Detra's poverty-stricken core, the village spouted considerable defenses. Still, the entrances contained neither gate nor blockade.

"Not enough," Isla murmured.

"What?" Rydin questioned.

Isla pointed at the guard towers. "Their defenses against Demons."

"They're for bandits. The Gods protect us against the Demons," he explained.

She snorted. "You shouldn't rely on the Gods. Didn't you learn from your parents that they won't always protect you?"

"I mean they aren't perfect, no one is, but when we call for their aid, they come. They have before. The communication crystal allows us."

She shook her head. "You haven't seen the rest of Detra. Look to the west. Half of the village is burned asunder. A small price they've paid."

"Villages can be re-built. Without the Gods, we would have nothing. What other choice is there when magic is scarce?"

"You don't realize." Isla sighed and swallowed the bile her words created. "Slaving yourself to the Gods is far worse than Demon attacks. The Gods attack more frequently. That damage you see, do you believe the Demons really caused it?"

Rydin chuckled. "Gods attack? I've never heard of that before."

"People don't voice the horrors of their self-proclaimed protectors."

"Come on, Isla. What would they gain from attacking us? They'd lose their source of income."

Isla clenched her jaw and refrained from arguing further. Rydin had Detra's mentality. He was blind.