Silent Forest

As the sun inched toward its zenith, a foraging party embarked on their journey, setting their course toward the mysterious depths of the Silent Forest and the ominous Wailing Willow Pass on the northern fringe of the village.Aden found himself among the foraging party, having been summoned to the war room alongside the other able-bodied defenders. It was there that Father Edgar, his graying brow furrowed with concern, had apprised them of a dire situation – the village's stores of medicinal herbs were running perilously low.With the harpy menace showing no signs of abating, and the steady stream of injuries mounting with each passing day, replenishing their supplies had become a critical imperative. Thus, the foraging party was assembled, a motley crew tasked with braving the untamed wilds in search of the precious flora that could mean the difference between life and death for their beleaguered compatriots.As the group made their final preparations, checking their gear and ensuring their blades were honed to lethal keenness, Aden couldn't help but notice the palpable tension that hung in the air. Captain Willem paced restlessly nearby, his piercing gaze fixed upon a cluster of figures that had drawn his suspicion.The former smugglers whose allegiances had always been a matter of speculation, seemed to be congregating in greater numbers than usual. Their furtive glances and hushed whispers did little to assuage the captain's misgivings, prompting him to keep a watchful eye trained upon their every move.Yet, even as this potential threat simmered in the background, a strange calm had descended upon the village skies. The harpies had all but vanished from sight, their haunting shrieks conspicuously absent from the morning chorus.It was a lull in the storm, a brief respite that Captain Willem had deemed too fortuitous to squander. With the foraging party assembled and the smugglers under close observation, he had given the order to proceed, seizing the opportunity to bolster their dwindling resources before the next wave of feathered fury inevitably descended upon them.In anticipation of the persistent drizzle and the looming threat of rain, especially in the mountainous expanses to the north where the storm retained its furious grip, the members of the party adorned themselves in grey hooded cloaks.These cloaks, worn over knee-length padded leather armor, served as a barrier against the elements, shielding them from the capricious weather that veered between a gentle drizzle and the imminent promise of a downpour. The hooded ensembles were a nod to the unpredictable temperament of the mountain weather.With a keen awareness of the burden that saturated gambesons could pose, the foragers made a pragmatic choice. They left behind the heavy gambesons, providing a donation to the defenders stationed at the courthouse. In the event of rain, these defenders would don the discarded armor, opting for protection over the encumbrance of waterlogged garments.Armed and ready, Aden, equipped himself with a spear and a longsword. Hjalmar carried a kite shield for steadfast defense and a sledgehammer, securely strapped to his waist, for formidable offense. Maeda shouldered a bow, a quiver laden with arrows, and his trusty Median steel katana accompanied by his wakizashi on his waist. Gilbert, wielded a round shield and a wooden pole to help him hike the elevated ground. And the last Ser Percival, acted as the leader of the foraging party for his familiarity in the area. He bore a kite shield and an Empire standard longsword.In preparation for their foray into the forest, each member carried a willow foraging basket secured with a leather strap—an essential tool for collecting and transporting the herbs of their foraging. Notably, Gilbert, with his foresight or perhaps a penchant for preparedness, brought an extra basket, a prudent choice that could prove invaluable in the unpredictable terrain of the Silent Forest.⁕⁕⁕The Silent forest was not far from the village, only separated by a steep hill. The foraging party arrived at the Silent Forest by high noon.As Aden and his fellow defenders stepped into the misty forest, they couldn't help but feel a sense of unease and foreboding. The forest was eerily quiet, with not even the sound of animals or birds to break the silence.The air became thick with an eerie mist that clung to his skin, shrouding the world in a ghostly veil. The forest floor was a chaotic landscape of shattered trees and scorched earth. Massive trunks lay strewn about like broken toys, their branches twisted and snapped like fragile twigs. The very ground itself was marred by deep gouges and craters, evidence of the fierce struggle that unfolded there.everyone thinking the same thing but dare not to ask. What has happened to this forest that made it look like it is now?They were all exchanging glances.And yet, Ser Percival didn't bother with the display of the messed up display laid in their surrounding, he kept pushing through into the heart of the forest until they came to a spot where the herbs were believed to be abundant."All right, men. Gather up!" Ser Percival told the foraging party to come close."We are here to collect some herbs for the injured people in the village," Ser Percival said in a deep tone."Gilbert will show you what kind of plant you have to take, don't make a mistake." Ser Percival asked Gilbert to take the center of the group. "Gilbert, you're up."Gilbert took the center. He took out five kinds of herb samples, put them on the ground on different sides, and showed them to the rest of the party."Marigold, Chamomile, Yarrow," He pointed to each of the herbs on his right side. "These are the herbs we need to cut wounds and to stop bleeding.""Thyme and meadowsweet," He pointed to each of the herbs on his left side, "These herbs are to reduce fever.""You heard the Neckbeard. Now spread out. Don't go too far. keep it two spears away from each other. We don't want any surprises," Ser Percival couldn't hide his concern about the messed up display he saw earlier.The foraging party spread out to collect herbs and spices. Drawn to the Thyme and Yarrow fields as their top priority, they quickly gathered enough of the former but not enough of the latter.They worked their way up to where the Wailing Widow pass was located. Where they could gather the rest of the herbs. They have to do it efficiently so they won't waste any time.Ser Percival was a local boy of Serendale Village, he knew better than harpies wouldn't touch their claws on the Silent forest—the Silent forest was the stormwing wyvern's territory.The devastation they saw earlier was clearly a sign of a wyvern fight. Harpies and wyverns. out of the frying pan into the fire.The local-born knight also hoped that it wouldn't come to the latter.When they moved deeper into the forest, the devastation wrought by the wyverns' deadly dispute became more apparent. Trees lay uprooted and broken, their branches twisted and mangled. The ground was scorched and blackened, with deep gouges and claw marks etched into the earth.The air was thick with the acrid scent even after days after, a testament to the ferocity of the wyverns' battle. It brought Aden back to the horror of the battle of Al-Ard.Aden and his fellow defenders moved cautiously, their eyes scanning the area for any signs of danger.The once vibrant canopy of the forest had been reduced to a tangle of withered branches and desolate clearings. The towering ancient trees, which once reached for the heavens, now stood as hollowed husks, their life force drained by the wyverns' deadly conflict. Their gnarled, blackened forms cast long, eerie shadows that danced in the ethereal mist.The foraging party did their activity in silence, they gathered up almost full buckets of herbs, they just needed other herbs that only grew in the Wailing Widow's pass.Scattered throughout the forest, Aden came across the grim remnants of the wyverns' battle. Enormous scales, like shards of obsidian, were strewn haphazardly across the ground. Some bore the telltale signs of scorch marks, a testament to the lightning bolts that these creatures had unleashed upon each other. Other scales were jagged and splintered, bearing witness to the brutal physical clashes that had taken place in the skies above.Aden was shocked when he found a very disturbing scene, couldn't hide his shocking expression with all of his trauma from formidable beasts who destroyed the army he was with. Now he found one, lifeless, right before his eyes.It was a truly horrifying sight—an adult stormwing wyvern, seven spears in length, impaled to a tree from some kind of violent battle. The beast's ebony-scaled body seemed smaller than it had before death, its wings folded and caked with dried blood crusted all over.Aden came closer to the impaled lifeless wyvern."What could've done this?" Aden curiously checked on the lifeless wyvern. As they stood before the immense corpse.There were deep, jagged slash marks that had cut into the skin of the dead wyvern, leaving gaping wounds behind that seemed to be the result of another wyvern, their talons and claws having ripped through the creature's tough hide. and the dark red of the dried blood contrasted sharply against the snow-white feathers of its still wings.Maeda stepped in and also inspected the dead wyvern. "Wyvern against wyvern. It seems.""Restrain their strength, female wyvern typically are. Use for.. protect children," He spoke calmly in a bit jumbled common tongue yet easy-to-understand manner, utilizing the sentence structure of his native language.And he carried on providing his insight into their behavior."Wyvern males, combatants. The male who emerges victorious, allowed to choose among the defeated females as reward." Maeda carefully surveyed the area for any potential threats around the forest where they were present. "Known, it is.""Victorious male wyvern must kill the youngling. To mate with the defeated's female wyvern." Maeda explained carefully, he seemed very respectful toward the dead wyvern.Aden was caught off guard a little bit when Maeda suddenly became talkative, little was known about his background. The samurai was more reserved than Aden himself and surprisingly he had so much knowledge about wyvern."So you were saying that the female wyvern died fighting the victorious male wyvern to protect her offspring?" Ser Percival also found it intriguing.He was a local boy of the village but never heard such things. All he knew was the stormwing wyverns only kept it to themselves, unlike their counterpart the harpies, they never trespassed into the village or even disturbed people and they had a turf war against the harpies some decades ago before he came of age and joined the Regalyon academy to be a knight."Hai'," Maeda nodded.Aden, a man of deep faith, paid his respects to the fallen wyvern in his own way. It was a noble way to go for the female wyvern to fight to protect her offspring. He gently placed his hand over one of its lifeless eyes, intoning, "May the eyes of the coward never sleep."Then, moving to the other side of the corpse, he closed the remaining eye and recited, "May the soul of the brave live forever."She died fighting, she is a warrior nonetheless.The foraging party stood watch for Aden to finish honoring the lifeless beast.Maeda also showing his reverence for this awe-inspiring creature, bowed solemnly."You seem like you have a deep respect for the beast," asked Aden politely to Maeda."Ryu-arashi," Maeda began, his words carrying a weight of reverence. "Stormwing wyvern. Symbol of shogun. My samurai clan, also."His gaze drifted to the intricate etching upon his bracelet, the sinuous form of the legendary beast wreathed in swirling winds. Calloused fingers traced the familiar contours as he struggled to find the words to convey the profound significance."Represent strength. Resilience," he continued, his brow furrowing slightly. "Passed down generations. Loyalty to those who serve shogun."For Maeda, the ryu-arashi held a sacred place in his heart, a talisman that embodied the unbreakable bonds between a samurai and his lord. It was a symbol that transcended mere decoration, embodying the very essence of honor, discipline, and an unyielding commitment to duty."Not mere decoration," he affirmed, his voice taking on a reverent timbre. "Sigil of my clan. Inazuma samurai. Elite warriors from Hi-on."At that moment, Maeda's bearing exuded an aura of quiet pride, a subtle reminder of the rich tapestry of traditions that had shaped him. Though his command of the common tongue was rudimentary at best, the weight of his words carried a depth that spoke volumes of the intricate cultural threads woven through the vast and varied lands of the Essen realm."Inazuma samurai," he reiterated, his eyes burning with conviction. "Not mere mercenaries. Sell-swords for coin. Clan of history. Sacred oaths. Code of honor. Steel."His fingers traced the final curl of the wyvern's tail, and his gaze swept across those gathered, issuing a silent challenge to understand the depths of his convictions. For in that simple gesture lay a lifetime of sacrifice, a dedication to ideals that transcended the fleeting concerns of mere mortals.The weight of that unspoken declaration hung in the air, a palpable presence that demanded acknowledgment if not outright respect. For in the end, it mattered not whether one hailed from the refined courts of the mainland or the mysterious orient of the Hi-on isles – honor was a universal language, one that Maeda and his kin had mastered with every fiber of their being.⁕⁕⁕