As darkness began to fall again, something unexpected appeared on the horizon—a small village. Faint lights flickered amidst the gathered snow, like a spot of warmth surrounded by cold.
The houses were wooden, their roofs covered with thick layers of snow, with small huts scattered around the main square. A handful of residents moved slowly, some brushing ice from their doorways, others walking with heavy steps, as if they had grown used to this harsh weather.
Niklaus stopped for a moment, looking at it thoughtfully. The distance to the Forest of Death was growing shorter. A short rest here couldn't hurt. He said quietly: "We'll rest here."
Ethan didn't hesitate for a second. He raised his hands as if celebrating.
Ethan, with light but sarcastic joy: "Finally! A warm place, maybe even real food?! Lucky me!"
But Niklaus didn't share his enthusiasm. He simply started walking toward the entrance.
As Niklaus and Ethan entered the village limits, several residents noticed them and watched the strangers with clear caution. But it wasn't hostile caution—rather a kind of curiosity mixed with wariness.
This village was very small, surrounded by natural walls of snow-covered trees, and its scattered wooden houses suggested it was a place isolated from the outside world.
Not many travelers came here. The village held no real importance for anyone seeking trade or even comfort, because it lay in a rugged area not easily reached. More importantly, it was very close to the Forest of Death—a place few dared to approach.
Still, the villagers were friendly by nature. Harsh life had made them tightly knit; they knew that no one survived here without trusting others.
Yet their suspicion of strangers never diminished—anyone who came to this land didn't come without reason, and didn't pass through except for their own business.
"Who are they?" That question echoed in the minds of more than one person who saw the two crossing the snow-covered road.
Niklaus wore his usual cloak, the hood hiding some of his features. Ethan's face was clearly visible, his bright eyes against the snow's light revealing his unrestrained nature.
When one of the villagers approached him, Ethan asked his first question.
Ethan, in a cheerful but exhausted voice: "Can you tell us where we can stay? We're a bit lost."
The man looked at him for a moment, then nodded, without showing any signs of suspicion.
The man, in a quiet voice but with the tone of someone seasoned in this land: "There's only one inn here. No one comes to this village to build more than that."
Then he started talking more, even without being asked, as if speaking was part of his nature.
The man: "This village is small. Hardly anyone visits. We're at the far border of the duchy, very close to the Forest of Death. So trade is weak here, and we barely see new faces."
Then he added, as if telling an old story: "The inn? It was built recently... The owner came here alone. We don't know much about her, but she hasn't caused any trouble. She owns the place and runs it herself."
His speech was long, but Ethan was enjoying it. Niklaus, meanwhile, watched the conversation in silence. His eyes followed the man's words, but he didn't react to his lengthy chatter. He just listened, gathering information in the background without showing any obvious curiosity.
---
After a few minutes of talk, they reached the small inn. Its structure was dark wood, its roof covered with layers of accumulated snow, its door solid despite bearing the marks of the harsh winds that had crossed this land for decades.
Its windows were small, but they emitted a warm glow, shining through the darkness that had begun to invade the village with the coming of night.
The place was simple, but not neglected. It seemed carefully built to be a refuge for travelers crossing this land, even if there were very few of them.
Ethan looked at the inn, raising an eyebrow: "Well, it's not fancy, but it looks better than I expected... at least there's a door and a roof!"
But Niklaus didn't care about the joke. He just looked at the door for a moment, then pushed it open with his hand and stepped inside. Ethan followed right after.
They were met by the scent of warm wood and a calm atmosphere, as if the place was isolated from the outside despite the harsh weather.
A woman stood there, perhaps in her late twenties, with long black hair and deep black eyes, wiping cups roughly as if she was used to working without many visitors.
Ethan wasted no time—with his usual smile, he threw out a greeting and started talking, as if his words knew no hesitation.
Ethan: "Hello! We're looking for a room. Me and my little brother got lost on the road, and now we're very tired... By the way, do you have any food?"
The woman welcomed them with simple kindness. She said, "Sit down. The food is simple, we don't have much... I'm not used to visitors here." Then she gestured for them to sit.
After a few minutes, she placed warm food on the table in front of them.
Ethan, who began eating without any complaint, chewing happily: "This is great! It's fine if it's simple, as long as it fills my wretched stomach!"
Then he started talking to her nonstop. Asking her about the inn, about the village, about anything he could ask. She answered with short but detailed replies.
The woman said quietly: "My name is Maria. I run this place alone. I didn't plan for this, but I found myself here."
While the conversation continued between them, Niklaus sat silently on the chair, eating without any comment. His eyes were fixed, but he wasn't inattentive.
He was watching the place, studying the atmosphere, listening without appearing very interested in the conversation. But he wasn't entirely immersed in the quiet, because something else caught his attention.
When he lifted his gaze, he noticed a small child—a girl, maybe six years old—standing in the corner. She was looking at him in silence, her eyes wide with innocent curiosity, but she didn't speak.
He didn't know why she was looking at him. But for a moment, he felt that she saw something in him that no one else had seen. And that bothered him greatly. So he looked away from her, even though he felt a strange feeling toward this child.