Empire of Two: The Dawn of Unity

We walked toward the rising plume of smoke in the distance, the early morning light stretching long shadows through the dense forest. The faint sound of running water still echoed in my mind, but there was something else now—a tight knot of urgency in my stomach that I couldn't shake.

Breaking the silence, I couldn't help but ask, "How did you even know there was magic in this world?"

Wiktor slowed for a moment, thinking, before he replied. "I'm not entirely sure," he said, glancing at me. "It's like this strange compulsion, an instinct to test it out. At first, I didn't understand, but when I concentrated, I felt something... click. And then it worked, like it was always meant to."

I raised an eyebrow, skeptical but intrigued. "That's really weird. Do you think it's tied to the being who sent us here?"

Wiktor nodded, his gaze distant. "Yeah, that's what I thought too."

I sighed dramatically, a grin creeping across my face. "Aw, lucky you. I wanted some power too."

He chuckled quietly, and I could see the relief in his eyes. "If I got something like magic, with infinite possibilities, I'm sure you've got something cool too."

I shot him a quick look, the mood lifting slightly. "You're probably right, but I wish I knew what it was sooner. I'm impatient, you know?"

We continued walking, the forest quiet, save for the occasional creaking of trees. The weight of everything hanging over us seemed to deepen as the smoke grew nearer, and my stomach tightened with hunger.

"I think I see a village over there," I said suddenly, pointing.

"Finally," Wiktor muttered, relief creeping into his voice. "I'm starving. Do you think they'll have any food?"

"Hopefully," I replied, but doubt lingered in my tone.

As we drew closer, the village came into sharper focus. The buildings appeared worn, their surfaces cracked and peeling, a haunting silence hanging in the air like a fog. There was no sign of bustling life, only the occasional shadow flickering behind a window.

I frowned, scanning the village. "This place looks neglected. I doubt they have spare food."

Wiktor's expression darkened. "Yeah, it doesn't look good. We should try talking to one of the villagers, see what's going on. Maybe we can help—or at least figure out what's wrong."

We walked further into the village, eyes following us from every corner. A chill ran down my spine as the uneasy feeling of being watched settled in.

"Why are they staring at us like that?" I asked, glancing at Wiktor.

"Not sure," he murmured. "Maybe it's our clothes, or they're just wary of strangers."

"Could be," I agreed, but something felt off. "Wait, look at them closely. These people—they're too thin. They're starving."

"Yeah," Wiktor said, his voice grim. "They're barely surviving."

An older man stepped forward, his face weathered, his eyes sharp and cautious. His voice was rough as he spoke. "What are you doing here? This is no place for outsiders."

Wiktor glanced at me before answering. "We're just passing through. We saw the smoke and hoped to find some food. We're... a bit lost."

The man studied us for a moment before his expression softened ever so slightly. "Food is scarce here," he said, his voice low. "And you shouldn't stay long. It's dangerous for outsiders, especially now."

I exchanged a look with Wiktor, my concern growing. The village was in worse shape than I had imagined. Something was wrong here—something I couldn't yet put my finger on.

"We'd like to speak with your leader," I said firmly.

The villager hesitated before nodding. "The leader's house is near the center. But be careful—there are bandits in these parts."

I glanced at Wiktor, piecing things together. "That's why they're so thin. The bandits must have been robbing them. We should ask the leader for more information."

"We definitely should," Wiktor agreed. "This village must be under some kind of jurisdiction, so why are there no guards?"

We moved toward the center of the village, passing hollow-eyed villagers who barely seemed to notice us. The heavy silence weighed down on the place, a palpable feeling of despair lingering in the air.

"I think that's the leader's house," Wiktor said, pointing to a slightly larger structure, though still modest and weathered like the rest.

"Looks important, but not extravagant," I replied, eyeing the building. Even the leader seemed to be living in poverty.

We approached the door, and Wiktor knocked firmly. After a moment, the door creaked open, revealing a middle-aged woman. Her tired eyes met ours with a mixture of caution and authority. She stood a little straighter as if weighing our intentions before speaking.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice steady despite the tension radiating from her posture.

"We're travelers," Wiktor answered respectfully. "We saw the smoke and hoped to find food. But we can see that your village is suffering. We wanted to speak with the leader and understand what's going on, maybe help."

The woman studied us, her expression unreadable. After a long pause, she stepped aside, letting us in. "I am Linara, the village leader. But I warn you—there's little we can spare, and even less we can do for outsiders."

We entered the simple home, the smell of wood and dust lingering in the air. A wooden table stood in the center of the room, surrounded by mismatched chairs. Linara gestured for us to sit.

"You've come at a bad time," she said, folding her arms as she spoke. "Bandits have been plaguing us for months, stealing what little we have. Our crops barely yield enough to survive, and the nearest city is too far to offer aid."

"Why haven't local authorities sent help?" I asked, frowning.

Linara sighed heavily, shaking her head. "We're too small, too poor. The taxes they demand leave us with nothing, and when we ask for help, they claim their resources are stretched thin."

Wiktor leaned forward, his brow furrowing. "That's awful. Have you tried organizing a defense? Maybe train the villagers to protect themselves?"

She gave him a bitter smile. "We've tried, but we're farmers, not soldiers. The bandits are armed and ruthless. Those who've fought back have paid with their lives."

I exchanged a look with Wiktor, feeling the weight of her words. "Is there any chance the bandits will be back soon?" I asked.

Linara's face darkened. "They'll return. They always do. And when they come, they don't just take food—they take people. Young men and women have gone missing, and we fear the worst."

The room fell silent, the gravity of the situation settling over us. Wiktor spoke first, his tone steady but firm. "If they come while we're here, we'll do what we can to stop them."

Linara blinked in surprise. "You would fight for us? Why? You don't even know us."

Wiktor met her gaze, his expression calm but resolute. "We've seen what happens when people are pushed too far. If we help now, maybe we can stop things from getting worse."

I nodded, forcing determination into my voice. "We're travelers, but that doesn't mean we can ignore what's happening here. If we don't act now, who knows what'll happen when the bandits decide they want more?"

Linara studied us, her face a mix of surprise and hesitant hope. "You're either brave or foolish," she said quietly. "But... thank you. We'll take any help we can get."

As she turned to fetch something from a shelf, I shared a quick glance with Wiktor. Helping these villagers wasn't just about heroism—it was about ensuring we had a place to stay and food to eat. If we didn't step in, the bandits might leave nothing behind, and we would be just as vulnerable as the villagers themselves.

Wiktor gave a faint nod before focusing back on Linara. "We need to know everything about the bandits—how many there are, when they come, and how they fight. If we're going to help, we need to be prepared."