The structure was constructed entirely out of weathered timber, and its weathered planks whispered tales of the passage of time.
This structure embraced the landscape with a sprawling elegance that belied its clearly long history and stood in stark contrast to the vertical houses that were scattered on top of the giant trees.
Its low-slung roof mirrored the surrounding terrain's undulating contours, which helped blend the man-made with the natural environment effortlessly.
The building's unremarkable rectangular shape gave off an air of understated authority. It served as a testament to the hidden power that could be found inside in the form of a man, Amos.
The heavy wooden door at the entrance stood as a testament to craftsmanship and heritage—something surprising in such a small community. Intricate carvings adorned its surface, weaving a tapestry of symbols whose meanings whispered secrets only the villagers could comprehend.
This structure served as the community's focal point as not only did it function as a physical gathering place, but it also served as a symbol of the community's shared history and ability to persevere.
As they stepped inside, the heavy wooden door squeaked open, releasing a musty aroma of thick wood and dusty books that washed over Erik. Despite the reverberating hush, Vanessa continued to guide him further inside, her steps determined.
They were going to run into Amos again, and Erik couldn't help but speculate about how this meeting would alter not only his future but also the village's future.
The silence that had been enshrouding the grand hall was finally broken when Vanessa's voice resounded throughout the space. "Amos, the young man's power is real. We've seen it with our own eyes. He could be the solution to our food shortage problem."
Even to Erik, who was not from the village, the problem was evident; however, hearing the woman talk about it openly was reassuring in a sense, as it meant that he held value within the community.
The elderly gentleman, Amos, sat back in his chair and intertwined his fingers while resting them on his stomach. He was examining Erik with a degree of scrutiny that had not been present before, and his eyes narrowed as he did so.
His gaze was so heavy that it was almost oppressive to be in its presence. Erik, however, saw a glimmer of something that could be described as hope within those depths.
After what seemed like an eternity, Amos finally nodded, and his lips curled into a small smile of contentment as he did so.
"Very well. We will welcome the self-proclaimed awakener's help." He declared with a voice as commanding as the ocean's tide.
Erik's expression changed to relief, but it was also tinged with a sense of curiosity because it was obvious that these people were concealing something. He was going to aid them for many different reasons.
On the one hand, it was the right thing to do. Erik had killed people and resented many, he even had a problem controlling his blood-lust sometimes, but he was not indifferent to people suffering, especially if they weren't from Frant.
Besides, he saw potential in building a relationship with people who survived in a Thaid-infested forest.
On the other hand, there were some prerequisites, which weren't particularly onerous but were still something he couldn't do without.
The young man squared his shoulders and looked directly into Amos's eyes with self-assurance. As the young man cleared his throat and got ready to present his terms, the tension in the room increased to a point where it was difficult to breathe.
Erik began by saying, "I am willing to lend my assistance," his voice resounded throughout the grand hall despite the absence of conversation.
"But in exchange, I ask that you return my belongings and that you treat me not as a prisoner but rather as a guest," the man said.
His words lingered in the atmosphere, posing a covert challenge in the guise of a straightforward question.
Even though he was an outsider living among them, the community's dire circumstances could be alleviated with the help of the talents he possessed.
It was a delicate balance, a negotiation of power, and both sides needed to proceed with caution in order to maintain it.
Amos looked at Erik for a brief period of time with his seasoned and penetrating gaze, during which the two of them shared an awkward silence that stretched between them like an unbroken thread.
As the other villagers awaited their leader's response, they held their breath in anticipation.
Erik was not attempting to command respect through his strength but rather through his goodwill. He was throwing them a lifeline in their hour of need by providing them with the opportunity for prosperity. In exchange, he only asked to be treated with respect and dignity.
It seemed to Erik like a reasonable exchange as well as a crucial step in laying the groundwork for the kind of relationship he wanted to have with these people.
His eyes, filled with determination, never wavered from Amos's as he spoke, silently conveying his sincerity and determination.
The older man leaned back in his chair, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Oh? What makes you think you are in a position to ask us something?" he questioned, his voice layered with intrigue.
The room was filled with murmuring, and the villagers were shifting around in an uncomfortable manner. They were clearly taken aback by Amos's reply to the kid's gesture of goodwill. But Erik did nothing more than look back at the village leader with eyes that were unmoving and unblinking.
The fake awakener replied with an unruffled and unwavering voice, cutting through the murmuring that was going on all around them. "I don't believe I'm in any sort of position," he said.
"I don't believe I'm in any sort of position," Erik responded, his voice calm and steady, cutting through the whispers around them. "But from how you've treated me since my arrival, despite your suspicions... it tells me something about you. You didn't harm me. You didn't kill me outright, even though you thought I was a soldier from Frant, and it is clear you have problems with them."
He paused, letting his words sink in. The room fell silent once again as Erik continued, "That tells me that you're good people, or at least people willing to listen. I'm just hoping I've read you correctly."
His statements seemed to linger in the atmosphere, which resulted in the building of tension that could be felt throughout the room. Erik's eyes remained fixed on Amos as he remained completely silent while he awaited the leader's response.
After that, there was a reflective pause. The villagers hung onto the tense thread of uncertainty as Erik's words reverberated around the large hall where they were gathered. Amos's eyes became like deep wells of aged wisdom that reflected a lifetime of caution as he fixed them with his gaze.
Amos eventually broke the silence when he said, "The fact that you claim not to be a soldier from Frant does not necessarily make it true," his voice resounded throughout the silence.
"The fact that you claim not to be a soldier from Frant does not necessarily make it true," Amos eventually broke the silence, his voice resonating in the quiet. "You could still be deceiving us. However," he paused, glancing at the villagers around him before locking his gaze back on Erik.
This content is taken from fr(e)ewebn(o)vel.𝓬𝓸𝓶