Chapter 3

We made it back to the village, and the scene before us was devastating. Smoke rose from the charred remains of the buildings, and the once bustling streets were now eerily silent. I couldn't believe my eyes. This was my home, my community, and now it was all in ruins.

Shira put a comforting hand on my shoulder and squeezed it gently. "I know it's tough, but we need to stay strong," she said, her voice filled with determination. "We need to assess the damage and see if there are any survivors."

I nodded, still in shock, and we slowly made our way through the rubble. The destruction was widespread, and it seemed like no building had been spared. I saw a group of villagers gathered around what used to be the center of the town. As we approached, I recognized some of them as my father's friends.

One of them, a man named Charlie, approached us. "Timmy, Shira," he said, his voice shaking. He looked around and noticed that my father was not with us. His expression turned quizzical, and he asked, "Where is your father?"

My throat tightened at the mention of my father, and tears welled up in my eyes. I struggled to find the words to respond.

"He's...he's gone," I managed to say in a small voice.

Charlie's expression softened, and he put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm so sorry," he said, his voice filled with empathy.

I nodded my head, unable to speak any further. Shira placed a comforting hand on my back, and we all stood there in silence for a few moments, taking in the devastation around us.

Charlie was a man of many talents in our village. He was a skilled forester, adept at navigating the dense forest that surrounded our community. In addition, he was a master charcoal maker, using his knowledge of the woods to create high-quality fuel for our fires. He had a rugged appearance, with a thick, neatly trimmed beard and weathered skin from years of working outdoors. Charlie always carried a sturdy two-handed axe on his person, which he used both for protection and as a tool in his work.

My father and Charlie were close friends, often going out for drinks together. Charlie had a daughter, Alexandra, who was five years younger than me. My dad and I watched over her a lot since her mother had passed away during childbirth, just like my own mother. Tragically, Alex passed away from an illness two years ago, and Charlie has not been the same since. He became more isolated and withdrawn, spending most of his time alone in the forest or working on his charcoal.

Charlie continued, "We've been looking for survivors, but so far, we haven't found anyone. It's just us left."

I couldn't believe it. How could this happen? Why did the goblins attack us? I felt anger and sadness wash over me all at once.

Shira ushered me away from the group. "We'll get through this," she said, her voice unwavering. "We'll bury your father, and then we'll start to rebuild. It won't be easy, but we can do it."

I took a deep breath and looked around at the destruction once more. She was right. We had to stay strong and rebuild. We owed it to the memory of those we had lost and to the future of our village.

Shira led us to her house, which was now just a shell of its former self. The once-beautiful garden that she had tended to with such care was now just a charred mess. The storefront where she used to sell her wares was completely destroyed, with nothing left but blackened timbers and ash. I could see the sadness in her eyes as she took in the devastation.

We made our way to the back of her property where a small shack stood. It had somehow escaped the worst of the fire, but it was clear that it had still suffered some damage. Shira rummaged through the wreckage and emerged with two shovels. She handed one to me and said, "We'll use these."

I nodded, still unable to speak. The reality of everything that had happened was starting to sink in, and it was almost too much to bear. But I knew that I had to be strong for my father, and for Shira. We made our way back through the ruined village, the weight of our grief heavy upon us.

Walking through the forest, my mind filled with thoughts of my father. I couldn't bear the thought of seeing his lifeless body again, but I knew I had to give him a proper burial. Shira walked beside me, offering words of comfort and support as we made our way to the location I had found earlier.

When we arrived, I took a deep breath and looked around. The area was quiet, with only the sound of rustling leaves and chirping birds filling the air. I found a small spot near a tall tree and decided it would be the perfect place for my father's final resting place.

Shira and I began to dig, working in silence as we prepared the grave. It was hard work, but we eventually finished. I took a moment to catch my breath before making my way to my father's body.

As I approached him, my heart felt heavy with grief. His lifeless body lay before me, a stark reminder of the brutality of the goblin attack. I knelt down and gently closed his eyes before noticing the dagger he was still clutching in his hand. It was a simple weapon, but it had served him well in his final moments.

With a heavy heart, I gently pried the dagger from his hand and held it close to my chest. I knew that I would keep it with me always as a reminder of my father's bravery.

Making my way back to Shira, she gave me a small smile and offered me a comforting hug. Together, we placed my father's body in the grave and covered it with dirt. Shira waved her hands over the grave and flowers began to bloom, their sweet scent filling the air. It was a small comfort, but it brought a small measure of peace to my heart.

As we returned to the village, I could hear a commotion that was growing louder and louder. My heart raced with curiosity and a tinge of fear as I wondered what could be causing such a disturbance. As we got closer, I saw a carriage with horses and a group of men who were clearly not from our village. They looked like soldiers, with their armor and weapons gleaming in the sunlight.

I could hear Charlie and the soldier talking about the goblin attacks in the area. Curiosity got the better of me, and I walked over to listen in.

"We've been sent here to investigate reports of goblin encampments," the soldier was saying. "But the situation is worse than we anticipated."

Charlie looked worried. "What does that mean for us?"

The soldier explained that they hailed from The Kingdom of Bees, a large kingdom located on the edge of this continent, and had established a new territory to provide relief to those affected by the goblin attacks.

"We're in need of people to build and support this new land," the soldier continued. "The Kingdom of Bees will pay for the start-up costs and provide resources for the first year. I cannot promise there will not be any dangerous creatures, but it's a chance for a fresh start."

I was hesitant. Moving to a new land sounded like a daunting task, but Shira looked at me and squeezed my hand, silently conveying her support.

"Charlie, what do you think?" Shira asked him. 

Charley looked at us thoughtfully. "It could be a good opportunity for us. We can start anew and leave the dangers of the goblin attacks behind."

Uncertain of what to do next, I turned to Shira. We had talked about revenge, but now the idea of leaving the danger behind was tempting. After all, we had barely escaped the goblins with our lives, and the state of the village was grim. Shira seemed to have made up her mind, and I could see the determination in her eyes. I took a deep breath and made my decision.

I nodded at Shira and she turned to the soldiers. "Okay, we'll do it. When do we leave?"

The soldier smiled. "Tomorrow at dawn. Be ready."