Hazelmoor

Aaron woke up with a start. His dreams haunted him again. This time, instead of Emma, he dreamt of that horrible night, of Peter and Karla, blaming him for their deaths, blaming him for forgetting them. A dark shadow loomed behind them, foreboding, threatening.

He was relieved when he woke, the memories of that mysterious shadow slowly fading away.

The room's window was open. Faint sunlight slithered through and bathed the place in a pleasant light.

"Sofia?" he called out.

The bed to his right, where Sofia was supposed to be, was empty. He left the bed and headed for a door at the room's corner.

His eyebrows furrowed.

He was staring at a small rectangular room with a wooden wash basin in the middle. Two buckets stood at the basin's foot. One was empty, while the other still had water in it. Aaron touched the water and shivered from head to toe. It was freezing cold.

He looked around, hoping to find a heater, anything to warm up the water, but those were the only items in the room. He quickly washed then left, shivering.

Near the only other door, he saw a small table on top of which clothes were neatly folded. He tried the door, and found it unlocked. It gave way to a wider room inside the house. A wide table sat in the middle, with some plates and a covered platter.

He went back to the room and changed into the clothes on the small table; a brown tunic, wide black pants, and leather boots. He found a long coat at the bottom of the pile, and decided to put it on as well.

"Sofia?" he called out again as he came back into the wide room.

She was nowhere to be found. 'We agreed to their stupid rules. She must have gone out already,' he thought as he approached the table.

The platter on the table covered a juicy piece of meat and some mashed potatoes. He quickly gulped them down with a cup of cold water then headed for the door.

Cold wind blew his hair back as he stepped outside. He took a deep breath, fresh air filled his lungs, and the smell of leaves and wet dirt welcomed him. He let his eyes travel around the place, scouting his surroundings.

A road before him led to the village down the hill. To his right, a gigantic stone structure cast a large shadow over the house. To his left, and beyond the road, a steep cliff gave way to a body of water as wide and large as the eye can see.

Further atop the hill stood a tall tower that challenged the sky.

He diverted his attention on the road leading down. The village lay at the bottom of the hill, a jumble of wooden and stone structures. Smoke rose from chimneys, while people walked narrow dirt streets alongside carts and horse carriages.

Aaron's ears perked as he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to see two armed men approach him. They wore a blue uniform underneath a breastplate. Steel helmets with white plumes rested on their heads. They carried a spear on one hand, and a shield on the other.

They reached him and halted. One of them, a tall man with a long beard, gave him an angry snarl. "You're not welcome here, Drifter!" he barked at him.

Aaron took a step back. Sofia's words rang in his mind. 'Never, ever, provoke the guards in town or challenge their orders.'

He clenched his jaw and looked away, at the lake and the horizon.

The other guard circled around him. He was a short scrawny man. The breastplate dangled on his thin shoulders as he moved. "Look at him, he's a freak, through and through!"

The short guard caught Aaron's gauntlet arm. "What's this, freak? Is this the weapon you'll use against us?"

Aaron pulled away from the guard. "I mean you no harm," he said in a hushed tone.

"Yet!" The tall guard said. "Drifters snap sooner or later. They should've left you where they found you."

The short guard snorted. "A good Drifter's a dead one."

The tall guard nodded as he studied Aaron from head to toe. He shot his companion a side glance. "The cliff's too steep from here."

Aaron's hair prickled. He took another step back. Sofia's words still rang in his mind, reminding him not to do anything stupid.

The short guard sniggered. "Maybe he fell. You know how carefree Drifters can be."

The tall guard nodded. "His friend should also trip and break her neck, poor thing."

The short guard barked out a laugh.

Aaron clenched his fists. "Don't you dare touch her!" he growled at them.

The short guard cocked his head aside. He looked at his companion and gave him a puzzled look. "Is the filthy Drifter speaking back to us?"

The tall man nodded. He turned to Aaron with a murderous look in his eyes. "They all act high and mighty, and always forget the rules that keep this land safe."

The short guard squeezed his spear. "We should teach him a lesson he's not gonna forget."

The tall guard looked around. "Not here, bring him up to the tower."

The short guard seized Aaron from his gauntlet with a surprisingly strong grip. He pulled Aaron toward him, but the latter planted his feet firmly on the ground and resisted. Sofia's words still rang in his ears, but he paid them no heed.

"I know you don't want to create a scene around here." He smirked at the short guard. "I'll resist and make as much noise as I can."

"Come here, you little fucker!" the short guard screamed.

He tugged at him harder, but Aaron wouldn't budge. Sparks crackled around his gauntlet. The runes in the rings hummed.

Aaron's smirk got wider. "What you're pulling at is a weapon I can't control yet. At this point, I can't guarantee you'll live after your next pull."

Both guards exchanged a look. The tall one nudged the other with his elbow and pointed his chin behind Aaron.

They immediately straightened up and held their heads high. They tapped with their spears on the ground and stood still, stiff as a board. Aaron turned to see a man approach. He wore a long gray fur coat. His black hair fluttered with the wind as he approached them.

He reached them and gave each one a calculating look. He was a middle aged man who stood a shoulder shorter than Aaron. Patches of gray littered both sides of his head. His well trimmed beard had grayed completely, yet he looked young and healthy.

He clasped Aaron's shoulder with a solid grip and gave the guards a hard look. "Were they giving you a hard time?"

Aaron shot them a venomous look then nodded.

The middle aged man smiled. "You have to forgive us. The people here are close minded. The sight of a foreigner always frightens them."

He glanced at the guards and waved a dismissive hand. They quickly turned around and hurried toward the tower.

The man extended a hand toward Aaron. "I'm Damyan Wulf, the chief of this town."

Aaron hesitated for a second, but met the man's hand. "Aaron Baldric."

Damyan's smile widened. "Strong grip! Welcome to Hazelmoor, Aaron. Our town is small, but its people have a good heart."

His smile immediately disappeared, replaced by a frown. "I know you've been trying hard to observe our customs, and respect our rules. Those fools shouldn't have provoked you."

"They were going to kill me," Aaron growled.

The man gave him a strong pat on the back. "They're all bark and no bite! You shouldn't fear them. After today's ceremony, they won't give you any more trouble."

Aaron would've loved to believe him. Those two had a strong hate for him, and Sofia. He would need to keep a close eye on them.

"You should have a lot of questions about this place," Damyan said, snapping Aaron out of his thoughts.

Aaron nodded. "Where are we, exactly?"

The man chuckled. "This is a hidden town, my dear boy. No one's supposed to know where it is, exactly, lest that hateful witch come for us all."

"Alright, let me rephrase it then," Aaron said. "I am not of this world. I don't recognize it. I don't want to know where this village is as much as I want to know where this world is."

Damyan's eyebrows furrowed. "You are in Hera of a thousand wonders. You escaped the Godslayer, only to find yourselves in her native land."

Aaron frowned. "Godslayer? You mean the witch?"

The chief nodded.

Aaron's heart leapt to his throat. "We're in her world?"

Damyan shook his head. "This land belongs to everyone who lives in it. That's the message we want to send to that beast of a woman." He looked at Aaron with his head held high. "We're the resistance. We're the ones that will one day bring the Godslayer's tyranny to an end."

"The resistance?" Aaron echoed after the old man. That implied a war with the witch, a history between her and these people. Aaron was lost.

'What have we gotten ourselves into?' he thought.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions, and I assure you, I will answer all of them in due time. For now, you must excuse me. I have other duties to attend to before our ceremony," Damyan said then turned on his heels.

"You'll find your friend by the temple. It's the tallest stone building in town. She must've had her first history lesson already. She may enlighten you while you wait."