A head begins to rise from below, something inside me crumbles. The man doesn’t wear a helmet, and I doubt he would fit into any armour.
Thoren leads the survivors towards us.
They won. We won.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The setting sun catches on the soft golden fields, rippled by a slight breeze in the air. Birds sing from the trees and fly overhead. I no longer wish I was one of them, after all, where would I fly to? There is nowhere else I’d rather be.
Mother still has her arm draped over my shoulder as we walk back through the fields towards Avlym. Alice runs off in front of us, her shoulders barely reaching above the barley fields. She has endured more than any child her age should, yet in these last few weeks her childhood has gradually been gifted back to her. She chases after her friends who all nip at Ida’s heels as she steers them back towards the village. Randall joins us as our fingertips brush the crops, this year will be a good harvest.
All the survivors surround us, none have a dry eye as we finish paying our respects. Here lies some of the most courageous people to ever gift Avlym with their presence. We have all lost someone, but none of them will ever be forgotten. We are born from the forest, and so it is among the trees where they have been lain to rest.
We say goodbye to too many, but we will be reunited with them eventually. They gave their lives so that we may live, truly live. Not under the fist of the colony, there will be no distant king who takes as he pleases, or sadistic collector taking advantage of us. We are free, finally.
Their names are scratched into the trees, alongside those who came before them and waiting for those to come. Bruce, his name will forever stand alongside his wife. Arthur, Damion, Landen, and so many others, we will remember them.
Avlym had been reduced to ash and rubble, but from the wreckage, the new village has been born. The first of us have already moved in, our family, Randall included, now reside in a two-story home with plenty of space for all of us. Wooden frameworks line Avlym’s old street, before long the village will be larger and more impressive than ever before.
I have made good on my promise to Damion, I have watched out for Bennie in case he strayed from the path. It had been torturous watching the man struggle with his demons, he had so desperately wanted to avoid the war and escape with his reacquainted son to the mountains. He had unsurprisingly struggled, but ultimately Damion needn’t have worried. Bennie leads Avlym’s expansion, taking it upon himself to lead a team responsible for creating our new homes. He has found something in his loss, Avlym has given him a new purpose. He had refused to touch another bottle, swapping the drink for his new beloved tools.
A wide path has been cleared which disappears deep into the forest. I know it goes far, I have made the journey to its end several times already. Avlym and the tribe may remain in different locations, but we are one people. We are one community, able to travel between each other as we please.
They too had started rebuilding. Bridges, pathways, and entire homes sit suspended high above the forest floor. It’s a truly incredible sight to behold. The tribe are bringing their home back under Orrian’s guidance, everything can be rebuilt.
The young king has finally found time to mourn his parents. He can sleep easy knowing that he will now lead their people into an age of peace and prosperity. The first thing he had done after the battle was confess to my mother about my father. Of course, she had forgiven him. She had guessed as soon as Randall had walked into the dungeon with his spear. As busy as the rebuilding has kept him, he still makes time to visit whenever my mother invites him over for dinner. In fact, he should be here before the sun sets.
I had been with the tribe as they had mourned their own losses, Arys, Faelyn, Edwyn. Tharrin had of course been torn apart by the loss of his brother, but he would not suffer alone. Myself, Orrian, and Jaq had all sat with him through the night, a soft fire crackling at our feet. Some of the tribe had even ventured back out to the beach to bring their fallen back home. Why shouldn’t they? There are no Halpians to fear anymore.
The colony’s throne has been destroyed, Thoren had seen to that. The fighting had stopped, and the crown melted down, their city will never be ruled by another king. As planned, there had not been a single civilian casualty throughout the entire war, they have nothing to fear from us. The city will become a home to all communities, if all goes well, their gates should never need to close again.
The remaining village leaders have elected new representatives from their ranks. They will become one united council to watch over the city and the surrounding villages. There is no more colony, their land, their wealth, and their technology belong to everyone now. Growth will not be reserved for the select few. Together, we will come into a new age.
Thoren has finally hung up his sword. Even the tribe, impressed by his skills in battle, had voted for his seat on the council. Each time he has been elected, and each time he has politely declined the offer. His time for leading is over, now he
