Chapter 12: Away from home

The youth gathered in a somber cluster, their faces marked by fear and uncertainty. Each of them had endured hardships at home, but now they faced an unknown fate in the Heather Kingdom. They stood before the imposing Karta leader, their bodies tense and powerless against the soldiers' authority.

"Bring the wagons," the Karta commander ordered a subordinate, his voice booming with authority. The soldier quickly rode to the back, returning shortly with two massive wagons in tow.

"You kids should climb aboard," the Karta said, dismounting his horse, a cruel glint flickering in his eyes. "We have some unfinished business to attend to here."

"Tell the others stationed outside the village to keep watch for anyone trying to escape. No one leaves," he commanded another soldier, his tone unforgiving. "The rest of you, follow me and check the houses for anyone hiding."

Fear rippled through the old villagers as they realized what was about to unfold. They could only pray that no one dared to flee or conceal themselves from the soldiers.

Trevor and Devine felt a chill run down their spines. The soldiers had indeed stationed others outside to catch any who attempted to escape. They were grateful that Garmond had warned them against trying to run; otherwise, they would have walked straight into a trap.

"What a predictable move," Garmond thought, almost amused by the soldiers' tactics. He remembered his days leading a troupe, setting up guards to catch anyone who might attempt to flee.

One by one, those who tried to escape were mercilessly executed, their pleas for mercy swallowed by the cries and wails echoing in the air. It was a brutal display of power, and Devine trembled as she witnessed the senseless slaughter, her heart breaking with each life extinguished. Garmond clenched his fists, anger boiling within him as he longed for the strength he once possessed.

As the soldiers continued their grim search, they reached a familiar face—one Garmond recognized. *Isn't that the girl from before? The one who said she'd rather die than join them.* His heart sank as he watched them drag her from the shadows into the open fields.

Unlike the others, she didn't resist. Her head hung low as she followed, but when the Karta raised his sword to behead her, she met his gaze with unwavering confidence.

"I'd rather die than join your corrupt system! I will not become like you!" Her voice rang out, fierce and clear.

For a moment, it seemed the Karta might carry through with his grim task, but just as the sword hovered near her throat, a new voice cut through the tension.

"I like her guts. Let's keep this one. She'll make a fine soldier," a figure said, appearing seemingly out of nowhere beside the Karta.

Dressed in shimmering emerald armor that glinted in the fading light, the newcomer exuded an aura of authority. His long blonde hair fluttered in the wind as he approached the group of Kartas, and they immediately dismounted, bowing deeply.

"Good day, Commander," they chorused in unison, their voices echoing through the clearing.

"I must say, we have quite a promising bunch here," he remarked, glancing over the gathered youths.

Garmond's heart raced in disbelief. "Darius?" he breathed, recognizing the tall figure with deep brown eyes filled with a familiar confidence. *But how could this be? He should be old by now!*

"Is he… really?" Trevor's voice broke through Garmond's thoughts, drawing his attention.

"Do you know him?" Devine asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"Pfft, of course not. How would I know a commander?" Garmond lied quickly, attempting to dismiss their inquiries. Devine seemed to accept his answer, but Trevor's suspicious gaze lingered on him.

'They'll figure it out if I keep slipping,' he thought, mentally noting to be more careful with his words around the siblings.

"Get them into the carriages. I doubt anyone else is left around," Darius commanded, his tone dull, as if weary of the task at hand.

With a collective jolt, the youths climbed into the wagons, and Garmond followed closely behind Trevor and Devine.

"Let's get moving; there's nothing left for us here," Darius muttered, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice as he clenched his fist, as if battling some unseen frustration.

Garmond couldn't shake his confusion. *Why does he still look so young?* Memories flooded back of Darius as a leader of the royal guards—a man he used to spar with. Fifty years should have changed him drastically, yet here he stood, vibrant and full of life. *What a lucky bastard,* Garmond cursed silently, envy flickering within him. He wondered what secret allowed Darius to defy the ravages of time.

Soon, the wagons rolled away from the village, carrying the children far from the only home they had known. They glanced back, hoping for a day when they might return, but the village quickly faded from sight.

"Hope Mom is okay," Devine said, worry etched across her features.

"Let's just hope nothing goes wrong," Trevor replied, his voice steady but laced with concern. He could see the distress in his sister's eyes; she had never wanted to leave their mother's side.

"Don't worry. Everything will be fine," Garmond reassured them, sensing no ill intentions from the old woman or her grandson. Yet, he felt an unseen power lingering in the village, a protective force watching over those left behind.

But he couldn't understand why that power hadn't intervened when the soldiers had begun their slaughter. Perhaps it was a matter of strategy, he mused, as the old woman must have had her reasons for not acting.

Devine and Trevor exchanged glances with Garmond, uncertainty flickering in their eyes. They had little choice but to trust his words.

As the Karta soldiers guided the wagons through the empty forest, night fell swiftly around them. In the quiet, the young captives pondered the fate that awaited them in the Heather Kingdom.

"Do you think the Malians forced them to work on the farms?" one of the youths voiced, his anxiety palpable. As their only child, he worried for his aging parents, whom he had always supported secretly, easing their burdens when the Malians weren't watching.

"Maybe. You can never tell," a larger boy replied, a heavy scar marring his face, giving him a fierce appearance.

Darius's voice cut through the murmurs. "We won't make it in one ride. It's about fifteen hours until we reach the Heather Kingdom. We'll be stopping to camp here for the night."