The afternoon sun hung low over the rolling hills as John and his companions entered Greenhollow.
Unlike the towering cities described in old books or the magnificent kingdoms of ancient history, Greenhollow was modest. A sturdy wooden palisade enclosed fewer than two hundred homes, and most of the buildings were built from timber and stone gathered from the nearby forest.
Smoke rose lazily from chimneys.
Children chased one another through the streets with wooden swords.
Blacksmiths hammered glowing iron on anvils while merchants called out the day's prices.
It was peaceful.
Normal.
After everything they had experienced inside the Hidden Realm, the ordinary sights felt almost unreal.
John found himself smiling without realizing it.
---
Lythriel stretched her arms above her head.
"I never thought I'd miss noisy villages."
Aerion chuckled.
"You complained every time we stayed in one."
"I can miss something and still complain about it."
Sylvara laughed softly.
