Chapter 14 – The New Beginning
The elder continued, seizing the moment. “Yes, Shawn, you and your grandfather aren’t originally from this village, but from the moment you and your grandfather arrived, you both became one of us, and your grandfather raised you as a part of this village. Your grandfather never spoke of his past, but I knew he was hiding from something. I believe he wanted to give you a normal life, to shield you from whatever shadows haunted him, but I do know this—he loved you more than anything.”
Reaching into his robe, the elder produced a sword and held it out to Shawn. “This sword,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, “was your grandfather’s gift to me. He gave it as a token of gratitude for allowing him to build a life here, for the family he hoped to protect, but I think you should have it. It’s better off with you than with an old man who has one foot on the grave.”
Shawn’s grief was momentarily pushed aside by the elder’s words. He looked up, meeting the elder’s gaze for the first time since he entered the house and looked at the sword, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Slowly, he stood and walked over to the elder, gently pushing the sword back towards him. “This sword belongs with you,” Shawn said, his voice trembling but resolute. “It was his way of saying thank you, for the life you let us have here”.
Shawn nodded, his eyes filled with a quiet yet resolute determination. “Thank you, village elder, for everything,” he said, his voice carrying the heavy weight of farewell. “I heard the decision you’ve made, and I understand it. But I, too, have made my decision. There are things I need to find—answers that are calling out to me. I don’t know where this journey will lead, but something deep within is urging me to follow this path.”
Shawn turned, the silence between them heavy with unspoken words, and walked back into the house, leaving the elder standing there, still holding the sword.
The elder, his eyes misting with unshed tears, watched Shawn’s retreating form with a heart full of pride and sorrow. He took a deep breath, his voice trembling with the emotion he struggled to keep at bay. “Shawn,” he called out, his tone a blend of pleading and understanding, “This war—it’s a battle of survival for everyone, but as village head, I can’t ask them to face more despair, and I can’t ask you to stay and protect us, which isn’t your duty. So, I made the decision to move the remaining survivors to go to the west for the village’s survival.”
He paused, gathering his thoughts, before continuing with a voice filled with a deep warmth. “But no matter where your journey takes you, I want you to know that this village has been your home, and it always will be. Remember, our doors will always be open to you.”
The elder stood there for a moment longer, holding the sword that had once belonged to Shawn’s grandfather, feeling the weight of both the weapon and the significance of the moment. He knew Shawn had made up his mind, and while it pained him to see the young man leave, he also felt a deep respect for the path Shawn had chosen. With a heavy heart, the elder turned and walked out of the house.
While Shawn was inside the house, preparing for the journey that lay ahead. The village elder had departed, leaving Shawn alone with his thoughts and the weight of his decision. As he moved through the remnants of his home, the memories of his grandfather began to flood back—laughter shared over meals, the warmth of a guiding hand, and the wisdom imparted in quiet moments rushed to him in all the places he looked.
And in the sleeping rooms, amidst the scattered debris, Shawn’s foot struck something unusual—a loose section of the floor. His heart quickened as he pried it open, revealing a hidden compartment beneath. With trembling hands, he lifted the floorboard and discovered an old chest, its surface worn but unblemished by time. It wasn’t locked, and he opened the lid with a creak.
Inside the chest lay a piece of red cloth and an amethyst pendant rock chain necklace wrapped around it inside. The cloth, vibrant and richly coloured, was carefully folded. The pendant, an exquisite amethyst set in a delicate grey silver chain, gleamed softly in the dim light. Shawn’s fingers brushed the cloth gently, and he could feel a sense of warmth and love wash over him, while the pendant felt like a tangible connection to a memory of affection. His heart raced as he pondered their meaning and origins.
With newfound determination, Shawn slipped the necklace around his neck and tied the red cloth around his waist. He quickly packed a few essentials into his bag—items that would be crucial for his journey. The finality of his departure began to settle in as he made his way to the centre of the house. Standing in the middle of the room, Shawn took one last, lingering look around. His gaze swept over the once-familiar spaces—the workshop where his grandfather had worked tirelessly and the spot on the floor where he had found his grandfather lifeless. Each corner of the house held a piece of his past, and now it was time to leave it all behind.
He walked out of the house, stepping into the village square and towards the village’s south gate, where the remnants of the battle still lingered. The villagers, gathered in solemn groups, watched him with a mix of respect and sorrow. Shawn’s departure was understood without words, as no one dared to speak to him, for his sacrifice and bravery had been more than anyone could ask. The villagers, seeing him leave through the gate while continued their preparations in silence.
Ruth’s father and the village elder observed Shawn’s departure from a distance. Ruth’s father, a hint of sadness in his voice, remarked, “It seems he has made his choice; Ruth will be devastated.” The village elder, his gaze fixed on Shawn’s retreating figure, nodded solemnly. “Yes, he has. How are the preparations coming along?”.
Ruth’s father replied, “They will be completed within a few hours.”
As Shawn ventured into the dense forest bordering the village, he felt the weight of his choice settle heavily upon him. Each step into the unknown was both a step away from the familiar village he knew and a step further into the unknown territory. The forest loomed ahead, shrouded in mist and mystery, mirroring the uncertainty of his path. Yet, despite the weight of his decision and the unknowns of what lay ahead, Shawn moved forward with resolve, ready to face whatever awaited him.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over Katanha, the village was a hive of quiet, determined activity. The aftermath of the day’s devastation lingered in the air, but the villagers pressed on, packing their belongings, readying the cattle, tending to the wounded, and preparing for what lay ahead. The weight of their decision to leave the familiar area was heavy, yet they moved with resolve, driven by the harsh reality of war.
Ruth, standing beside the ancient banyan tree, felt a deep sadness wash over him. He hadn’t had the chance to speak with Shawn before he left, and the silence between them felt like an unspoken goodbye. The young boy’s eyes filled with tears as he watched the villagers prepare to depart, and the reality of Shawn’s absence settled in.
His grandfather, the village elder, noticed Ruth’s sorrow and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I know it’s hard, Ruth,” he said gently, his voice carrying the wisdom of many years. “Shawn had his own path to follow, just as we have ours.”
“But why didn’t he say goodbye?” Ruth asked, his voice trembling with emotion. “He just… left without saying anything.”
The elder sighed, looking out towards the forest where Shawn had disappeared. “Shawn has a heavy burden to carry, one that he must face alone. Sometimes, words are not enough for the journey ahead. But remember, Ruth, the world is vast, and paths that diverge often cross again, and maybe one day you will meet him again.”
Ruth nodded, though the sadness in his heart remained, whipping his tears. His grandfather’s words offered some comfort, but the pain of losing his friend was still fresh.
The villagers continued their preparations, their movements sombre yet purposeful. The air was filled with a quiet resolve as they gathered near the banyan tree, taking one final look at their home. Ruth’s father joined the elder, reporting quietly, “The preparations are complete. We’re ready to move out.”
The elder nodded, his eyes heavy with the weight of leadership. “Then let us go,” he said, with a firm voice.
As the villagers began to leave, they moved with a mixture of fear and hope, their steps echoing the uncertainty that lay ahead. Ruth lingered for a moment longer, his eyes scanning the path Shawn had taken. Ruth’s grandfather gently urged him forward, and together they walked towards the village’s west entrance, leaving behind the place that had been their sanctuary. As all the villagers left, the village is now silent and stood still as a testament to the rich sword-making for which the village is famous for. And as they disappeared into the forest, a sense of quiet determination settled over them, knowing that they were going to face a long and difficult journey ahead and definitely one day they would come back to the place where they called home.
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