By now, the sun was low enough in the sky to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows down the forest path, but David and Ivane kept moving, Giorgi trailing behind them. The trees loomed above them, thick and tall, their leaves rustling softly in the breeze of evening. The scent of pine and earth was cool. And yet that unmistakable tension hung in the air, one David hadn't shaken since they left the abandoned village behind.
Ivane spoke first, the silence having stretched well past endurance. "What do you make of the old man's words?" His voice was even but carried a thread of curiosity.
David sat there, not a word said, his hand tightening upon the hilt of his sword as he continued looking forward. "He's right, after all. Promises are easy to make but hard to keep."
"This is so like a king, isn't it?" Giorgi said with a grin, though his voice betrayed some seriousness. "Not to keep promises that no one else could?
Finally, David turned to glance back at Giorgi. A tiny smile pulled at the corners of his lips, and he said, "I suppose it is. But that doesn't make it any less difficult."
Ivane nodded. "Rebuilding a kingdom from ruins isn't just about stone and wood, David. It's about trust. Folks need to believe in what you are building, or the walls will crumble no matter how strong."
David sighed, pushing a hand through his hair. "That's the part I'm worried about. It's not just the restoration of villages or retaking land. It's about restoring faith. And faith. that's a fragile thing."
Giorgi snorted. "Faith, huh? Well, you've got mine. Even if you can be a stubborn bastard sometimes."
Ivane raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure that's exactly the kind of support he was looking for, Giorgi."
Giorgi winked at him. "Hey, someone's got to keep it real around here. I'm just saying, I've seen David pull off the impossible before. If anyone's going to do it again, it's him."
David chuckled softly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. "I appreciate the confidence, Giorgi. Let's just hope the rest of the kingdom sees it that way."
They walked some distance in silence, the quiet of the forest cloaking them. The path was narrow, convoluting through heavy undergrowth and thick trees. Every now and then, the distant hoot of an owl or some rustling of leaves would break the stillness, but otherwise, it was peaceful. Almost too peaceful.
Ivane glanced at David, his face thoughtful. "There's something else on your mind, isn't there?"
David hesitated, then nodded. "The prophecy. The one about the builder. It's. unsettling."
Giorgi scratched his head. "Prophecies are slippery things. People like to twist them around and make them fit however they want. What about this one's bothering you?"
David slows his pace, scoping the horizon where the sun is all but set, so painting the sky with orange and purple hues. "It's not just about the prophecy; it's its weight. If I fail, it is not just a failed king. It is a failed future. The builder was supposed to restore balance and rebuild what was lost. What if I am not that person?
Ivane put a hand on David's shoulder, his eyes steady. "You may not be the builder they speak of, but you are building something worth being valued, David. Perhaps that is all this prophecy is to be: a symbol for a man who will make a difference, and not some figure to save it all in one swoop."
David relaxed, nodding. "You're right. I just can't shake the feeling that there's more to it."
Giorgi piped in, ever optimist. "Well, whatever the prophet says, it's not going to help us get through the night. Let's focus on what's in front of us, yeah?"
David chuckled. "Spoken like someone who doesn't care for fate."
"Exactly." Giorgi grinned. "Fate's got nothing on good old determination and hard work. Plus, it's a lot more fun to make your own destiny."
As they walked, the trail opened up into a clearing, exposed to the last rays of sunlight. There, in the middle of the clearing, rose a great stone monument whose surface was worn smooth by time. Intricate carvings seemed to spiral up its sides, telling a forgotten story that few could remember. David paused before it, his fingers tracing the cool stone as he studied the carvings.
Ivane stood beside him, but his eyes stayed on the patterns. "Do you know it?"
David nodded slowly. "It's a marker. One of the Builder's waypoints. They say he put these across the kingdom during his journey to unite the land."
Giorgi whistled low. "So then, we must be on the right road, too."
"'Looks like it," David muttered. "But these waypoints. They weren't just markers for direction. They were places of power. Places where the builder's influence was strongest.'"
Ivane narrowed his eyes. "You think there's something here? Something we can use?"
David's hand remained on the stone, and a strange feeling began to settle in his chest. "I don't know. But it's worth finding out."
They set up a camp in the clearing by fading sunlight. The fire crackled warmly between them, and it almost seemed as if the shadows of the monument over them forgot the past and all that was uncertain in the future that awaited. David's mind was a whirl of prophecies, of promises, and of the weight that he alone now carried for the kingdom.
Giorgi lay back on his elbows, looking up at the stars slowly coalescing over the dark of night. "You know, if we keep this up, we might actually do it."
David snorted, staring into the flames. "Maybe. But there's still a long way to go."
Ivane, always the realist, added dryly, "And a lot of battles to fight before we get there."
David nodded, setting his jaw in determination. "Then we'd better prepare ourselves. The kingdom won't rebuild itself."
And sitting in the quiet, listening to the fire crackle, they let their minds wander through their own thoughts, which they knew full well to be in front of them: a trying stretch all around—a stretch not just physical but emotional and beyond.