The sun had barely broken the horizon when I left the house that morning.
A thin mist still clung low to the ground, while the smell of fresh bread drifted from the first morning ovens of the early-rising families.It was one of those days when the village seemed to breathe slowly — unhurried, yet full of life.
By now, my daily walks were no longer unusual.The villagers greeted me naturally, and I continued along the familiar paths — always watching for new details.
Today, I chose not to head directly to the workshops or the fields.Instead, I allowed myself to circle the square and observe how the village unfolded in its natural rhythm.
Near the well, a small group of villagers spoke in quieter tones than usual.
I recognized several faces: middle-aged men, small farmers, and hunters.The conversation was not meant for me, but as I walked by, my ears caught fragments.
— ...the Baron raised it again — one of them whispered.
— And not by a little, either.The carts took nearly twice as much grain this time — another man replied, shaking his head disapprovingly.
— Winter is coming... and I don't know if we'll have enough left — a third added.
A brief silence followed before one of the men, perhaps the most cautious, muttered:
— Best keep your mouth shut.Even a bad Baron is still our lord.Talking too much never helps.
They nodded in quiet agreement, quickly shifting to more ordinary topics.
I continued walking as though I hadn't heard, but those brief words stayed fixed in my mind.
Even here, in a place of simplicity, pressures exist that are not easily seen...
A little later, near the edge of the square, I noticed a small group near the hunters' lodge.
There stood Halrick, one of Eberholm's oldest hunters.
A tall man, steady in posture, with sharp eyes like a seasoned wolf.His hair had begun to give way to streaks of gray, though his physique remained impressive.
He spoke in a calm voice to two young apprentices, gesturing with his hunting spear as he taught.
— Footprints can deceive, but when the birds fall silent, you should pay attention.If the woods go quiet, something bigger is nearby.
The young ones listened closely.
From a distance, I caught part of another warning he shared:
— Rumors say that to the north, near the trade routes, armed groups have been attacking travelers.Not just common bandits… they seem organized.
His tone was not alarmist, but careful.
It was not a direct threat to Eberholm — not yet — but the mere existence of such rumors made it clear that the world beyond the village was far less stable than it appeared here.
I continued my walk to the familiar shade of the large central tree.
As usual, there sat Yorn, his staff resting beside him, and the Rekal board carefully arranged before him.
Upon noticing my approach, he raised his gaze and smiled, as calm as always.
— Torren... punctual as sunrise.
I returned his smile, stepping closer with respect.
— Good morning, sir Yorn.
Without saying much, he moved one of the pieces on the board, showing that the game — even without an opponent — was always in motion.
I studied the board carefully.
The rules were starting to take shape in my mind, but there was still much to learn.
Yorn noticed my concentration and commented:
— See how the soldier supports the Count.Without the Count, the General is exposed.And even the King, with all his power, relies on the foundation beneath him.They all balance one another… just like life.
His explanation went far beyond the game.
It's a hidden metaphor.A game of war, but also of society. Hierarchy and mutual dependence.
— The soldier is weak alone — I said — but together, they support the entire structure.
Yorn nodded slowly.
— Exactly.The common men uphold the top.And when the foundation cracks, no King remains standing.
The conversation paused there.
That was when I noticed Laris again, quietly.
Sitting under the shadow of a nearby house, she helped her mother fold colorful fabrics.But her eyes… her eyes had briefly shifted toward the board.
She observed silently.
Not with childish curiosity, but with that calm, focused attention I was starting to recognize in her.
You see the gears behind the surface too, don't you?Even without knowing it, perhaps we are more alike than we realize.
I returned my attention to the board.
The rest of the day flowed gently.
The hammering of the carpenters echoed faintly in the distance.The scent of fresh bread blended with the damp earth's aroma.Dogs stretched lazily in the shade.Children chased straw wheels across the dirt with laughter.
Life in Eberholm carried on.
Yet beneath its peaceful surface, small currents were beginning to form.
It's a simple world, but not a naive one.
And so I continued… observing.
With each day, the village revealed new layers within me.