Erik hoisted his backpack onto his shoulders even though it had significantly increased in size due to the winter gear. It was a burden, but it needed to be carried.
The weight symbolized his preparedness, determination, and commitment to the task at hand, which was to survive the harsh winter during the journey.
He cast a cursory glance around the room, his eyes lingering on the simple things he would soon be leaving behind: the warm bed, the humble kitchen, and the well-known scene outside his window.
However, he was prepared. He was as prepared as he could possibly be. Then, Erik's attention was drawn to the sun that was beginning to shine through his window, signaling the beginning of a new day and the beginning of his journey. He exhaled deeply and continued. It was time to leave.
He opened the door to the bright morning and stepped out into the fresh air, ready to start his journey.
After leaving the house, Erik navigated the stairs to the treetop house with a familiarity that he had developed over the course of several days.
Each of his steps reverberated throughout the peaceful morning as his boots made a soft thumping sound against the wooden planks. As he approached the base of the tree, a brisk breeze nipped at his cheeks, prompting him to be grateful that he had brought warm clothing with him and stored it in his backpack.
He turned around and glanced back at the house, feeling a twinge of something that could be described as nostalgia.
The slender dwelling that was strung up among the branches had developed into something of a sanctuary for him.
It wasn't really the house he grew up in, but since he'd left the city, it was the closest he'd come to resembling it since he'd been away. With a lingering gaze, he steeled himself, turning away and setting off towards the hall.
The village was gradually coming to life as the first rays of dawn painted a crisscross pattern across the sky and cast long shadows.
Erik pulled his coat around him even more tightly as he made his way through the deserted streets. The air was filled with the aroma of freshly baked bread, morning dew, and the muffled sounds of a village slowly coming to life, but there was also snow.
As Erik walked through the village, he marveled at its attractiveness and basked in the gentle light of the early winter morning.
Like a tranquil blanket, an ethereal atmosphere was laid over the settlement as the sun, which was still a pale and hesitant presence on the horizon, painted the world in shades of frosty blue and hushed lavender.
This created an ethereal atmosphere. On either side of the path was a row of tall and proud trees, the bare branches of which were decorated with a delicate frosting of snow. After what seemed like an eternity, the leaves finally gave up and fell to the ground, leaving behind bare tree silhouettes that reached toward the clear winter sky.
On the other hand, the evergreen pines maintained their foliage throughout the winter, creating a colorful contrast against the otherwise monochromatic landscape. Erik could see that there was a large crowd gathered as he got closer to the building.
From where he was standing, he could see the faces of villagers, some of whom he recognized and others he did not.
The atmosphere was tense but filled with a palpable sense of excitement, and each person's face was etched with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension.
A similar feeling surfaced within Erik in response to the sight: apprehension regarding the journey ahead of him, anticipation regarding what lay at the Lumisgrove and for the experience he would gain; it was an undeniable undercurrent of excitement due to the unknown.
As Erik approached the group, his boots made a crunching sound on the frosty grass, which caught the attention of the few people there.
Vanessa, who was covered in a thick cloak, turned to face him as she greeted him. Her usually piercing eyes showed a slight sign of relaxation.
Four other people were standing there with her, and it was clear that they were all ready for an arduous journey. Each individual was clad in bulky winter clothing lined with fur, and their breath was visible in the crisp morning air as it formed small clouds.
Erik assumed the packs on their backs contained provisions and equipment because of their purposefulness, which indicated the dangerous mission still in front of them.
Two of them were men, tall and imposing, with faces etched with the lines and wrinkles that come from years of struggle and conflict. Both were armed with dangerous-looking swords and axes that dangled from their belts.
One of them had a large axe whose blade glowed menacingly in the dim light, and the other had a long sword that appeared to be extremely dangerous.
The other two were female but carried themselves with the same ferocity and determination as their male counterparts. One was armed with a bow and arrows and had a quiver strapped across her back.
Her fingers were lightly resting on the bow. The other woman was armed with a pair of daggers that were worn on her belt.
The hilts of the daggers were intricately carved, and Erik wondered where she got them. The swift movement of Erik's eyes over them was a silent acknowledgment of the fact that they were prepared.
These individuals would accompany him on this trip to the Lumisgrove as his traveling companions. Their path would be difficult, and they would have to rely on one another to make it through it alive.
"Good morning, Vanessa," Erik said, shattering the momentary hush that had enveloped the group. "And a good morning to all," he continued, directing his attention to the four unknown individuals. A tacit recognition was exchanged as he made eye contact with each one.
A flicker of unease flitted across his stomach. Realizing he was setting off on a hazardous journey with strangers was unsettling. Erik observed the people again.
"Excuse me, but I didn't have the pleasure of meeting you before," Erik said, trying to dissipate the weird atmosphere. A small smile appeared on his face as he reached out to the nearest person - the burly man with a gleaming axe.
"May I know your names?" he added.
In response, the man firmly clasped Erik's hand. "The name's Marcus," he grumbled, his face etched with stern lines, yet his eyes hinted at a budding camaraderie.
"A pleasure, Marcus," Erik returned the sentiment, his attention moving to the redhead with a bow slung over her shoulder. She responded with a light smile, her fingers idly caressing the grip of her bow. "Call me Alexia," her voice had a musical lilt, starkly contrasting Marcus's gruffness.
"Alexia," Erik echoed, giving a nod of acknowledgment. His gaze then drifted to the woman wielding the ornate daggers. "And you are?"
"Ava," she stated briefly, her lips curving into a subtle smirk.
Finally, Erik's attention landed on the rugged man carrying a long sword. The man held his gaze, his expression unreadable. "You can call me Garrett," he said straightforwardly.
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