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The afternoon sun paints Thornwick’s central square in shades of amber and gold, its light filtering through mountain air so clear it seems to catch and hold each ray like precious gems. I make my way across cobblestones worn smooth by countless generations of mountain folk, their surfaces reflecting the endless rhythm of a community that lives and breathes by the mountain’s grace. The increasingly familiar weight of my greataxe across my back and the comfortable embrace of my new shoulder armor remind me that I’m no longer just the village girl who’d first stumbled into this life—I’m someone with purpose, someone gathering intelligence that could save lives. Something I dreamed of as Ashley.
The sound reaches me before I see them—that distinctive music of children’s laughter echoing off of the stone buildings that mirror the granite peaks towering above us. Small figures dart out from doorways and narrow alleys, their bright, overlapping shouts making my chest tighten with unexpected warmth.
“She came back! She came back!” The cry goes up from multiple throats as they spot my approaching figure.
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