BONDS in the Night

The night in the mountains was cold and crisp, the air filled with the distant calls of nocturnal creatures. The campfire crackled, casting flickering shadows on the faces of Tumo and his companions. The warmth of the fire was a small comfort against the chill, but it also brought a sense of unity among the diverse group of travellers.

Tumo sat a bit apart from the others, his gaze fixed on the flames. His thoughts were a swirl of memories and plans, the fire reflecting in his sharp, calculating eyes. The others chatted quietly, their voices a soothing hum against the backdrop of the night.

Lira, the young scholar, sat close to the fire, her book now closed but held protectively in her lap. She glanced at Tumo, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Tumo," she began hesitantly, "what brings you on this road? You seem... different from most mercenaries."

Tumo looked up, his expression guarded. "I have my reasons," he said simply. He wasn’t one to share his past with strangers, no matter how kind they seemed.

Brynn, the warrior, leaned back against a log, his sword laid out beside him. He eyed Tumo with a mix of respect and curiosity. "You fight well," he remarked. "Where did you learn to wield a scimitar like that?"

Tumo's hand instinctively went to the hilt of his weapon. "Training," he replied. "Years of it."

The merchant, whose name was Garin, chuckled nervously. "I suppose you need those skills on these roads. I've heard tales of all sorts of dangers, but wyverns... that's a first for me."

Tumo nodded, his mind wandering back to the battle. The wyverns had been a formidable challenge, but they were just another obstacle in his path. His true enemies were far more dangerous. He leaned back, letting the conversation flow around him, only half-listening as his thoughts drifted to his ultimate goal.

The fire burned low, and the group began to settle in for the night. Brynn took the first watch, his eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of movement. Tumo lay down, his scimitar close at hand, ready for any threat that might emerge from the shadows.

The night passed without incident, the fire keeping any predators at bay. As dawn broke, the group packed up their camp and prepared to continue their journey. Tumo helped secure the wyvern hides and claws, knowing their value once they reached Arveron.

The road ahead was rough, the path winding through the mountains before descending into the lush valleys that surrounded the city. They travelled in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Tumo remained vigilant, his senses attuned to any potential danger.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, they finally caught sight of Arveron in the distance. The city’s towering walls and bustling streets were a welcome sight after the treacherous journey. The group’s spirits lifted, the promise of safety and civilization just ahead.

As they neared the city gates, Garin turned to Tumo. "Thank you again for your help," he said sincerely. "If you ever need a favour, look for me in the market district."

Tumo nodded. "I’ll keep that in mind."

They entered the city, the noise and activity a stark contrast to the quiet of the mountains. Tumo and his companions went their separate ways, each with their own business to attend to. He kept the wyvern hides and claws secured, planning to sell them later.

As he walked through the crowded streets, Tumo’s thoughts were already on his next move. Arveron was just another step on his journey, another place to gather information and resources. His ultimate goal remained unchanged: to reclaim his honor and exact his revenge.

For now, he would bide his time, waiting for the right opportunity. The city held many secrets, and Tumo was determined to uncover the ones that would lead him to his enemies. With a renewed sense of purpose, he disappeared into the throng of people, a shadow on the path to his destiny.

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