Then I notice IG-22, standing in the center of the street, still as a sentinel, surrounded by fallen Eldorian soldiers. Villagers emerge from hiding, hesitant and wary, inching towards the golem with expressions of mingled gratitude and unease. IG-22 silently secures its blasters back onto its back, its gaze fixed forward as more citizens begin to gather around it. They stare up at him, their faces painted with the uncertainty of a people who don't quite know if they're gazing upon a savior or a terrifying machine.

  One small elven girl, no older than six, breaks away from the crowd and, with a timid step, approaches the droid. Her large, curious eyes meet IG-22's unblinking red photoreceptors, her small hand reaching up as she stands on tiptoe. She hesitates, glancing back at her family, but something about IG-22's stillness draws her forward. And then, as if deciding in that brief moment to place all her hope and trust in this strange metal guardian, she steps closer and wraps her small arms around his leg in an innocent embrace.

  The entire crowd falls silent, watching as the little girl leans her head against the cold metal. A tear slips down her cheek, and her expression holds nothing but relief and gratitude. IG-22's photoreceptors shift slightly, flickering downwards as if unsure how to respond. The droid stands motionless, its posture rigid yet almost...awkward, as though embarrassed by the unexpected display of affection.

  Emboldened by the girl's gesture, other villagers approach, their initial caution giving way to hesitant smiles and soft whispers of thanks. A few reach out to pat the droid's back, hands trembling slightly, while others simply stand close, offering soft words of gratitude. IG-22 remains silent, encircled by the people it has saved, the weight of their appreciation settling upon its silent frame. Its red eyes flicker slightly, scanning the faces of the villagers, as if overwhelmed by the genuine emotion surrounding it.

  A smile tugs at the corner of my lips, and I let out a quiet chuckle. IG-22, the relentless, merciless enforcer I'd feared only hours ago, now stands surrounded by villagers who, against all odds, see in him a silent protector. The sight is almost surreal, a strange yet heartening reminder that even in this world of chaos and violence, hope and gratitude still find a way to survive.

  Apollo stands beside me, a quiet but powerful presence amidst the chaos, his protective stance unwavering. Throughout the entire battle, he hasn't left my side, and I feel a deep swell of gratitude for him. I glance up at him, taking in his solid, calm expression. Despite all the horrors around us, he has kept me safe, and I realize now how much I trust him—not just as a guard but as a true friend.

  "Apollo..." I murmur, glancing his way. "Thank you... for keeping me safe." My voice trembles, barely above a whisper, but he offers a soft nod. That simple gesture speaks volumes, and for a moment, I feel a small sliver of comfort.

  As the villagers begin to part from IG-22, drifting away to tend to the injured or grieve their dead, the initial relief and sense of victory quickly fades. I watch, heart sinking, as people collapse beside fallen loved ones, clutching bodies with sobs that seem to tear through the air. Children gaze at what remains of their homes, clinging to family members or wandering aimlessly. A woman kneels, her arms wrapped around a young boy who lies still in her embrace. The sight is heartbreaking, and tears prick at my own eyes as I take it all in.

  I look over at Apollo again, grateful that he shielded me from this nightmare, that he was there when I needed him. His presence feels like a promise, one that's held me steady through the worst of it. But as I take in the devastation, anger and confusion swirl within me. Why would the kingdom of Eldoria do this to innocent villagers? Why?

  Ryu's words come back to me, his warnings about the Shadowfell's influence, about a darkness corrupting Eldoria itself. I'd been skeptical, clinging to a hope that the kingdom I knew was still good, still noble. But the reality before me, the horror wrought by those who once protected these lands, shakes me deeply. I can't ignore it anymore. Maybe Ryu was right—maybe there really is a force at work, twisting everything, a shadow casting this unimaginable cruelty over the land.

  Around us, the last traces of smoke rise from the burnt-out homes, the flames extinguished by Ryu's efforts. The streets, once filled with life, are now littered with rubble and the remnants of shattered lives. I look up at Apollo, my resolve hardening as I watch the devastation.

  I close my eyes briefly, the cries of the villagers filling my mind, and as the full weight of this horror settles within me, my own loyalty begins to shift. I owe it to these people, to the memories of what my kingdom once was, to find the truth and to stop whatever darkness is behind this. I take a deep breath, the air heavy with the acrid smell of smoke and ruin, feeling a new determination spark within me.

  The battle over, the elven villagers and remaining soldiers cautiously approach us, their faces etched with exhaustion, relief, and a deep, heartfelt gratitude. Some come forward to embrace Talia and Ryu, while others bow their heads in respect. They offer sincere words, their voices quivering as they try to express the magnitude of their gratitude.

  "Thank you... thank you for saving us from this nightmare," an older elf says, his voice thick with emotion as he clasps Ryu's hand, his eyes glistening with unspoken thanks. "Without you, they would have burned everything, taken everyone. We can never repay this."

  Talia gives him a warm smile, squeezing his hand. "We did what we had to. No one deserves this kind of suffering."

  Apollo stands beside me, stoic and steadfast, while a few villagers approach us as well. I glance around awkwardly, unsure of how to respond to the elves' reverent gratitude. One young elf, a teenage boy, steps up to me with his hand outstretched.

  "Thank you," he says earnestly, "for standing by them, for helping protect us. It matters, every bit of it."

  I fumble, feeling a mix of pride and discomfort. "I... I didn't really do much," I say, trying to dismiss the praise. But his gaze remains sincere, and I just nod, giving up on trying to downplay my involvement.

  Then another elf hesitantly points toward IG-22, who remains stationary, its photoreceptors observing the crowd without a word. "What... what is that being?" he asks, his voice tinged with both awe and caution.

  Ryu glances over at IG-22, giving a small nod. "It's a golem under my control," he says simply. "An ally in battle."

  One villager, his eyes wide with wonder, shakes his head in admiration. "I've never seen such mastery of telepathic magic," he murmurs. "To control a golem in such a way... you must be powerful beyond words."

  Ryu bows his head slightly, accepting the praise with quiet humility. "I'm just grateful we arrived in time to help."

  The priests emerge from the crowd, their robes fluttering lightly in the breeze as they approach Ryu and Talia with solemn expressions of reverence. Each of them murmurs prayers of thanks, and one elderly priest clasps his hands together, bowing deeply. "You are truly sent by Lytharia herself. Only divine intervention could have led you to us at this dark hour."

  Another priest, his eyes closed as he chants a brief prayer, opens them to look at Ryu with profound respect. "Your presence here is a blessing from the moon goddess. May her light guide you always."

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  Then, a figure steps forward, a striking woman with long, raven-black hair that flows elegantly over her shoulders. Her violet eyes, filled with warmth and wisdom, seem to glow as they meet Ryu's. She bows with grace and dignity, her voice like a melody, resonant with gratitude. "I thank you, Ryu Chikara, Apollo Steelton, and Talia Sutaraito, for saving my people and our sanctuary, Lindórinan," she says, her gaze lingering on each of us with heartfelt appreciation. She then turns toward IG-22, offering it the same respect. "And you as well, IG-22. Your aid is greatly valued. Thank you."

  IG-22's eyes adjust slightly, but it remains silent, merely observing her with its usual eerie stillness.

  "Of course, Llamiryl," Ryu responds, his voice filled with a subtle warmth. "Though I wish our reunion could have been under better circumstances."

  Talia smiles faintly, her expression mirroring Ryu's sentiment. "Indeed, Llamiryl. We're just glad we could be here when you needed us most."

  Llamiryl's gaze softens, and then she turns to me. Her presence feels almost otherworldly, radiating a calm that both reassures and unsettles me. Her eyes meet mine, filled with respect and understanding, though I can't fathom why. "And you, a new face among us," she says gently. "I am Llamiryl, High Priestess of Lindórinan, speaker to Lytharia, the goddess of the moon," she introduces herself with an elegant bow, her raven hair falling over her shoulders. Her voice holds a dignified warmth that makes me feel both seen and respected. "It was brave of you to come here alongside them. Your courage is not overlooked."

  Swallowing nervously, I manage to respond, "Re-Rebecca Lockhart." My own name feels clumsy on my tongue under her poised gaze. "Please... don't thank me. I didn't do anything like they did. They deserve your gratitude," I add, gesturing toward Apollo, then to Ryu and Talia, feeling almost unworthy to stand among them.

  Llamiryl's gaze doesn't waver as she studies me. "True, you may not have wielded a sword or controlled a golem, but you fought in spirit," she says, her voice kind yet firm, as though she's reassuring me of my own worth. "And that matters most. Your courage is no less valuable."

  For a brief moment, I feel seen in a way that's both comforting and unfamiliar. Her praise, gentle as it is, touches me more deeply than I expect, and I find myself nodding in quiet acknowledgment.

  Her expression shifts as she surveys the devastation around us, her shoulders dropping with the weight of sorrow. Her eyes move to the bodies scattered around the ruined village, lingering on the lifeless form of a priest near the temple entrance. She sighs heavily, a tremor of pain evident in her voice. "It wounds my heart to witness such violence inflicted upon our sacred land," she says quietly, her gaze haunted as she takes in the wreckage.

  Her eyes shift to one of the fallen soldiers lying at the temple's steps. This one is different—larger, armored with a distinct bearing. But then, to my shock, I see his chest rise and fall. "He's... still alive!" I exclaim, instinctively taking a step back.

  IG-22, who has been standing silently, steps forward, inclining its head slightly. "This is the leader," it states, its voice mechanical and devoid of emotion. "As instructed, I have stunned him."

  Ryu nods, his voice calm. "Well done, IG-22," he says, the hint of satisfaction in his tone. He catches Llamiryl's look of surprise.

  "I'm surprised you chose to spare him," she says, her violet eyes studying Ryu thoughtfully.

  Ryu's face remains impassive, but his tone is resolute. "It wasn't out of mercy," he says, glancing down at the unconscious soldier. "I need answers. We need to understand why they attacked Lindórinan."

  Llamiryl's expression turns solemn as she shakes her head, her voice laced with sorrow. "I don't know why either... they attacked without warning," she says, and there's a faint tremor of pain in her words.

  She bows to us once more, then glances back at the other priests who stand behind her. "If you'll excuse me, I must tend to my people," she says, her voice soft and filled with reverence. The other priests join her, each offering us another round of thanks before following her into the ruins of the village.

  Ryu gives her an understanding nod. A group of elven soldiers approaches us, their armor gleaming even amidst the smoke and rubble. At the front of the group stands one soldier with armor slightly different from the others—a touch more ornate, with engraved silver detailing along the chest and shoulders. His presence is commanding, his posture poised and unyielding, signaling his authority before he even speaks.

  He offers a slight bow, his gaze moving over each of us in respectful acknowledgment. "I am Commander Ayen, leader of the Lindórinan city guard," he introduces himself, his voice steady but tinged with gratitude. "Lord Y'msari, Lord of Lindórinan, wishes to personally thank you for your assistance today."

  As he speaks, the other soldiers gather around the unconscious Eldorian leader. They secure heavy chains around his arms and lift him carefully, bearing the weight of his armored form between them as they prepare to take him away.

  Ryu gives a slight nod, his stance unwavering. "Of course," he replies. Then he turns to Apollo, who stands at my side, his steady presence a source of reassurance throughout the battle's chaos. "Apollo, I need you to return to the speeder and inform Nikko of our success here," he instructs.

  Apollo dips his head respectfully, replying with his usual calm, "As you command."

  Ryu's attention shifts to the towering figure of IG-22. "IG-22, assist these people however you can," he commands, his tone direct but laced with the weight of responsibility.

  Without a word, the golem turns and heads off in the direction of a small group of villagers struggling to move the body of a fallen elven guard. Its towering form moves with purpose, its presence both unsettling and strangely comforting to those it aids. I watch as IG-22 approaches the villagers, its photoreceptors adjusting slightly as it kneels and carefully lifts the fallen guard, its motions unexpectedly delicate.

  Finally, he looks at me. "What would you like to do? Join us or wait at the speeder?"

  I glance between Ryu, Talia, and the soldier, who seems to be waiting for my response. "I'll wait at the speeder," I decide.

  Ryu nods, and he and Talia follow Commander Ayen away. Apollo starts walking, and I quickly follow him. I didn't really do much to deserve an audience with Lord Y'msari anyways. As we leave the city, the devastation becomes more apparent. The once beautiful elven village is now a landscape of destruction and sorrow. Elven soldiers help the injured, some carrying the wounded on makeshift stretchers, while others tend to the fallen. The air is thick with smoke and the scent of burning wood, mixed with the metallic tang of blood.

  We pass a line of Eldorian soldiers in chains, being led away by a few elven soldiers. Their faces are a mix of defiance and fear. As we walk, I see elven villagers huddled together, tears streaming down their faces as they look at the remnants of their homes and community. Some clutch their children tightly, whispering words of comfort that seem hollow amidst the ruins.

  I feel a deep sense of sorrow and guilt. The sight of the destruction, the pain etched on the faces of the villagers, makes me wonder if this is all the doing of some evil entity. The devastation is too immense, too calculated, to be mere coincidence.

  Apollo walks silently beside me, his armor clinking softly with each step. I glance at him, wondering what thoughts are running through his mind. He remains a stoic presence, his focus unwavering.

  As we near the speeder, the full impact of the scene hits me. Villagers pick through the rubble of their homes, salvaging what little they can. The ground is littered with debris, broken weapons, and the bodies of those who fought bravely to defend their village. The elven soldiers work tirelessly, organizing efforts to rebuild and care for the wounded.

  The sense of loss is overwhelming, and I feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes. This city, once a place of beauty and tranquility, is now a testament to the horrors of war. I can't help but feel a pang of helplessness, knowing that there is little I can do to change what has happened.

  When we reach the speeder, Nikko rushes over to Apollo, wrapping her small arms around his waist. "Where's Papa?" she asks, looking up at him with worried eyes.

  Apollo kneels down to her level. "The lord of Lindórinan has requested his presence," he explains.

  Nikko's face falls a bit. "Can I go see the lord of Lindórinan too?"

  Apollo shakes his head gently. "Your father doesn't want you to see the state of the city. It's... not appropriate for you to witness it."

  Nikko nods, her ears drooping slightly with disappointment. Then she looks over at me and darts over, her face lighting up a bit. "I'm glad you're okay," she says, wrapping her arms around my chest in a warm hug.

  Her words and gesture bring a surprising amount of comfort to me. I smile, patting her head gently. "Thank you, Nikko. I'm glad you're okay too."

  I sit down on a nearby rock, watching as Apollo stands guard. My thoughts are heavy with the weight of what I've seen and the uncertainty of what lies ahead. The image of the elven village in flames, the cries of the wounded, and the lifeless bodies scattered across the ground haunt me. I can only hope that whatever force is behind this can be stopped before more lives are torn apart.