Chapter 4
The sorrows within
Nathaniel looked over to them. Crevalk was finally standing up. That was strange, where did that Ork get all that power? And more or less how did Crevalk stop the beast's sword? He stared in awe as Crevalk slowly walked over to the rest of the group, "Everyone all right?" he shouted to everyone. They all answered back with a resounding sigh. Grelon stood up ignoring Nicholae's shoulder, "We have to keep moving! That was only a scout party. They'll be sending another one to search this area soon," Grelon, announced making the group tense again. A few minutes later, they were all ready to continue. Nathaniel looked over the battlefield again. The dead bodies scoured the bloody field. He sighed and followed the rest of the group down the trail. Towards death mountain………
Filia stood there watching the dark horizon, waiting for her beloved son and daughter. Her lovely white dress, swayed against the gentle wind of the night caressed her softly. She stood there upon the wooden balcony that was barricaded by the small wooden railing that she leaned upon. The door behind her opened, "Dear you need to come inside," he said, "They'll be back I promise." Filia turned to the man. He looked young and handsome and seemed to gleam in the night. The man took her in his arms and embraced her. Small tears caressed Filia's cheek as the man, her husband held her. He knew that she wouldn't stop crying until they were back. Their children who they volunteered to go on the mission. He looked out at the horizon, knowing full well that they headed towards their death. Deran might never see his children again. He knew this and yet, was puzzled by how reluctantly he let them go. He sighed and looked into his fearful wives eyes. He could see the worry and the stress that weighed heavily on her heart. He kissed her softly on the forehead and led her inside. It was almost morning and she hadn't gotten any sleep the night before. She had been up all night, watching from the balcony. Hoping, wishing that they were alright. They may have been some of the best fighters and swordsmen in the village but still they were young. They didn't know what to do in times of trouble, Nathaniel the stubborn one, Tatiana the Naive. Both had their own problems to deal with but were also is some way responsible for each other. They always looked out for one another.
They were good kids, but at a time like this. The world they were born into. No one should have to live like this from the moment you were born, no one. Deran sat Filia upon the bumpy mattress of their well made bed. The blankets were warm and soft. She sat on the side of the lumpy bed crying, letting her tears out, and letting out all of her worries. She had hope which was rare, for there was no hope in this pitiful dark, cold world which could only be described as hell itself. But yet they lived, which brought her hope. She had seen what her children could do. But still there could be something that no one not even the hero of time could destroy. That was her worries.
Filia laid down upon the bed her worries drowning her in a pit of despair. Her hope was just a flicker of fire against a wave of darkness. Her hope was almost gone, but it hung there, it stayed, it was there but barely. Filia closed her eyes and let her sadness fill her up. She drifted off to sleep in that sadness and Deran watched. He watched as her beloved drifted off to sleep. He watched her face, wracked with confusion of what she believed. Were they alive? Could they be completing the mission? Could they? That question hung in the air, it soured his mind. It allowed him to believe that something could possibly go right in this screwed up life. He sighed and quietly slipped into the kitchen. A make shift stove bright with flaming coals stood in the middle. Four oak chairs were neatly seated around a wooden oak tree. Deran grabbed one of the chairs and sat down. Now he had to wait. There would be a meeting in a few hours, Kakariko village's chiefs. The ones who make the calls about what the remaining soldiers must do to protect their precious village. He knew he must defend this village with his life. But was he willing to give it up in order to protect the ones he loved so dearly, when he could do so much better if he was alive. He looked out his window and his eyes lay upon the cloud of ash the hung desperately of the village and the mountain of death, where the mountain tribe of the gorons rested. How were they handling the situation of the impending doom that lay over the land?
"Hmm," he murmured to himself, and cast his gaze down upon the wooden floor. His thoughts surrounding him in a cloud of confusion and despair as he soon drifted to sleep there in the kitchen, the fire in front of him dying, its flame withering out to nothing leaving the room in total darkness. Leaving the room in that strange world until the sun arose, and even then it did not bring happiness for it was black as the night and cast an eerie dark shadow upon the ground.