The Devouring Knight

The early morning sun spilled across the forest road as it opened to the familiar silhouette of the village's stone walls. As Lumberling and Jen drew near, the gates groaned open, revealing a cluster of guards waiting at attention.

"Welcome back, my Lord," one of them said, bowing low.

Lumberling inclined his head in acknowledgment, his eyes already drawn to the unusual stir beyond the gates. Villagers, especially the humans, were gathered in a tight circle near the center square, murmuring in low excited voices. The air carried a mix of curiosity and tension.

"What's the commotion?" Lumberling asked as he passed through.

One of the goblin guards glanced toward the crowd. "A human arrived yesterday. Someone Drake and Orrin knew."

Lumberling's brow lifted slightly. He already had a good guess. 'Chief Eldric,' he thought, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

He gestured for Jen to follow and made his way toward the gathering. The moment the villagers spotted him, the chatter subsided, and they stepped aside, clearing a path. His boots crunched on the packed dirt as he crossed into the circle.

There they were, Uncle Drake, Aunt Celine cradling baby Evelyn, and Orrin, standing around a man slouched on a low stool. The man was wrapped in bandages from head to toe, a strip across his brow, cloth binding his arms, chest, and legs. The sharp tang of blood still clung to him, and the scent fresh enough to make it clear these wounds were recent.

"It's been a while, Chief Eldric. Glad to see you alive."

The voice came from behind, steady yet tinged with warmth. Uncle Drake and the others turned toward it, their expressions breaking into smiles and relief.

A tall, black-armored figure approached, the weight of authority in every step. Beside him padded a massive wolf, its eyes sharp and watchful. Perched on its back was Jen, studying the man on the ground with quiet curiosity.

Eldric's gaze lifted slowly. For a moment, fatigue dulled his features, until recognition cut through. His lips curved faintly.

"The Chief title doesn't suit me anymore," he said with a dry chuckle. "But I see you've grown into a fine young man, kid."

For a long moment, neither man spoke. Eldric's gaze lingered on Lumberling's face as if counting the years carved into it, while Lumberling's eyes traced the bandages, each one a story left untold. The noise of the village seemed to fade, leaving only the sound of two survivors finding each other again.

Lumberling smiled in return. They didn't need to exchange pleasantries, the shared memories were enough. Eldric had been more than a village leader, he had been a mentor when Lumberling was still fumbling through the life of a Knight, and the man who had taken them in when they deserted the army.

Then Lumberling's eyes sharpened. "What happened to you, Chief Eldric? Injured in the war?"

Eldric's faint smile faltered. His gaze drifted, the weight of old battles settling in his shoulders. "Yeah," he said quietly, "it was pretty bad."

Lumberling's gaze lingered on the layers of bloodied bandages wrapping Eldric's body.

"Why didn't you ask the Church to heal you? I thought they took wounded soldiers straight to their halls for treatment."

Eldric let out a humorless chuckle that turned into a wince.

"You heard right… but that was a few years ago. Things have changed. Now they ask for gold in exchange."

Lumberling's brow furrowed. "Gold? From their own soldiers? That's madness, keep that up and no one will be willing to fight for them."

"It's… complicated." Eldric exhaled heavily, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of the explanation wasn't worth lifting just yet. His gaze drifted toward the clustered houses and the watchful eyes of goblins and kobolds going about their duties. "But before we get into that… I have a lot of questions for you."

His eyes narrowed slightly, not in suspicion, but in disbelief. "What's with this… monster village? I nearly fainted when I realized the old village was empty, and then, out of nowhere, a monster speaking human tongue walked up to me and said you and the others were here. I almost cut him down on the spot."

A faint smirk tugged at Lumberling's lips. "They're my subordinates. I left a few scouts to keep watch in case you returned." His tone shifted slightly. "Though I heard you nearly gave that scout a heart attack."

Eldric's lips twitched. "I might have. The damn thing came out of the trees without warning." His expression softened. "Drake and Orrin filled me in… and I want to thank you, for taking in my people when I couldn't be there."

Lumberling nodded his head. "I'm sorry for moving them without telling you first."

"It's fine." Eldric's gaze swept over the settlement once more. "This place… it's different. Children laugh without fear. Families have warm homes. Soldiers keep watch. It's safe here, quiet, and almost like the war is a world away."

Lumberling didn't flinch. "I don't quite agree. It's only a matter of time before the war finds its way here."

The air between them grew heavier, the distant sounds of the village, children laughing, the clang of tools, contrasting sharply with the weight of their words.

Uncle Drake cleared his throat, glancing between the two men. "Lumberling," he said, a touch hesitant, "Eldric's got… something he wants to ask you."

The air seemed to still. Orrin tipped forward slightly, curiosity sharpening his gaze, while Celine's eyes shifted between Eldric and the young man before him.

Eldric straightened in his chair, his voice calm but weighted. "You know I've spent my life in the service, on the front lines, in the mud, seeing the truth of war. I've asked a lot of questions in my time, but this one might… not be easy for you to answer."

Lumberling tilted his head. "Then stop circling it. Just ask."

Eldric met his eyes squarely. "In this war… are you with the Pentaline Empire, or not?"